I woke to the heat of a crackling fire. The fire pit was the only source of light in the room; the usual ambient luminescence of the house had been mercifully dimmed. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed firelight until this moment.

  I was in the sitting room, laid out upon a sofa. A thick blanket had been placed underneath me, and it was with some faint disgust that I realized that my hands were speckled with dried blood. Jacque’s blood.

  Nadine and Olrick sat on the other side of the fire, huddled together and speaking in hushed voices. With some application of will, I began casting my language spell.

  “…can’t make sense of it,” Olrick said. “She’s been a doctor this whole time? How’d we miss it?”

  Nadine shook her head. “I wish I knew. But the [magic] we were [casting]… I [performed surgeries] like that in [training?], but that took a full room of [mages/healers?] working together. The way she [added aether] to my spells was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. And to do all of that without a [necklace]…”

  There was that word again. “Necklace.” I’d learned words for all manner of jewelry, including several for different kinds of necklaces and pendants. But this particular word, I realized, referred to the kind of necklace that the Panzeans used to channel their magic.

  It was also a homonym for a major organ. I had noticed this in studying Nadine’s medical texts, but hadn’t marked the significance before this moment. It was not a “necklace,” but a “Heart.”

  They noticed me—which was hardly surprising, as the movement from my spellcasting had caused the blanket to rustle—and Nadine came around the fire to sit next to me.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, peering at me in the low light. There seemed to be sincere concern in her eyes.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but a painful rasp issued forth instead. Olrick hopped up, said “I’ll fetch you a drink,” and darted from the room.

  Nadine placed a hand on my shoulder and helped me sit up. “I want to thank you for what you did. Without you, Jacque would have lost his leg.” The firelight flickered over her face, casting deep shadows over her thoughtful expression, and Olrick returned with a clear crystal glass.

  “I’ll just be in the other room if you need anything,” he said, hovering over me as I took a sip. “All right then.” He backed away bashfully, then made his exit.

  “Not that I mean to be ungrateful,” Nadine said once he was gone, “but we really do need to discuss what happened, and your…situation.”

  I nodded, throat still too raw to speak.

  “So, I know I’ve asked you this before, but about Arix…” She forcefully exhaled, as though she’d been holding her breath. “No, you don’t want to talk about that, do you?”

  I nodded again, grateful that she wasn’t pushing the matter. Maybe the existence of magic in Panzea warranted a reexamination of my policy of secrecy, but it wasn’t something I was in any state to make a decision about. I still haven’t, to be honest.

  “That’s fine, I suppose. Like I said, we owe you…” She reached out to the side table and picked up a small box. “I have a present for you.”

  I opened it. Inside was a small, white stone on a gold chain: a Heart.

  “It hasn’t been [attuned] to anyone. Ah, that means that nobody can use it yet. It’s just a pretty rock for now.” She lowered her head so that we made eye contact, pulling my attention away from the necklace. “If you don’t want people to ask questions, you must wear this at all times. Do not let anyone believe you are [Heartless]. And absolutely do not let anyone believe you are a Heartless who can use [magic].”

  Setting my glass aside, I picked up the necklace and watched as it twinkled in the light. “What we do from now?” I asked her.

  “Let’s not decide anything until we’ve both had some sleep,” she said. “In the morning, I’ll want to ask you about those [spells] you used. I didn’t think there was a [mage] alive who could still cast those. At least, not outside of the Great Houses…” Her eyes took on a distant, unfocused aspect. “And the way your [spellwork?] [???]…joined with mine. That kind of [teamwork spell??] usually takes weeks of preparation, but with you, it was so…[easy? effortless?].”

  She shook her head, speaking again in a brighter tone. “Like I said, we don’t need to decide anything tonight. Wash up and go to bed.”

  Nadine helped me to my feet and I shuffled to the bathroom, eager to clean the blood from my hands. I didn’t think I would be able to sleep; my mind was so full of ideas. My fatigue was greater, however, and a dreamless sleep claimed me soon after returning to my room.

  ***

  Deep though it was, my sleep was unfortunately short-lived. Though the voice was muffled by the estate’s thick walls, it was eminently grating, a high, reedy voice that I had only heard once before.

  “…will not be kept from my patient!” It was the voice of the man from the party, the one with the red lips. I leapt from my bed, stopping just briefly to ensure that my robe was secure. “The [bored??] will hear of this, I promise you!”

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  His shrill shouts sounded from just outside my door. I opened to find that no, in fact, he was shouting at the door to the neighboring guest room. As I poked my head out, he turned to me.

  “You had something to do with this, didn’t you, Lady Shawllean?” Spittle flew in my direction as he shouted, and I recoiled in disgust. “I heard all about it, how you hovered over him and…[wiggled? shook?] your [claws?] at him!”

  “Doc, I get you’re all stirred up, but it’s four of the morning.” Olrick, wearing nothing but a rose-colored dressing gown, stood behind the shorter man and wrung his hands together. “Can’t this wait a few more hours?”

  “I have rights!” Siltstrom turned on Olrick, jabbing him in the chest with his finger. “I know Mister Ordine is in one of these rooms. [Produce?] him [right away]!”

  A faint voice issued from the door next to us. “Please, come in.”

  Siltstrom threw the door open and barged in. Nadine, who had been keeping to the rear, pushed past Olrick into the room. I followed after her.

  “Doctors.” Jacque lay in his bed, head tilted up to look at us. His bed sheet was pulled up to his neck, and while he looked much better than before, his face still had an ashen pallor to it. “Forgive me for not standing.”

  “I came as soon as I received word,” Siltstrom said, pulling up a chair next to Jacque’s bed and pushing the blankets aside. Jacque’s leg was bare, save for a white cloth wrapped around his thigh. “Let’s see what they did to you…”

  “That’s not…” Jacque grimaced as Siltstrom unwrapped the bandage, revealing a thin scabbed-over line where Nadine had made her incision.

  The doctor leaned in close, stroking his chin.

  “They say your leg was crushed,” Siltstrom said. He prodded the muscle by the cut, eliciting a yelp from Jacque. “That seems [unlikely] to me…”

  “Please don’t disturb my [needlework??],” Nadine said firmly. She had thrown the silver-white coat of her profession over her nightgown. “Jacque needs his rest. Anything you have to say can wait until the sun is full.”

  Siltstrom persisted in poking and prodding at Jacque’s leg. “On the [opposite?]. I [insist] on removing my patient from this [???]-house right away.” He glanced up at her briefly, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what sort of [???] you’ve done to him, but Jacque needs a real doctor.”

  “Doctor Siltstrom, please, I am fine here,” Jacque said weakly. “My leg… It really was crushed, you see. I thought I was going to… That they would…”

  Siltstrom shook his head emphatically. “You, my dear Mister Ordine, are being [deceived]. The injury you are describing is beyond [???] magic to heal—certainly beyond Doctor Seaborne’s ability to heal in a single day.” There was a certain venom to the way he said Nadine’s name.

  Clearing her throat, Nadine spoke up: “A few days ago, I would have agreed with you on that. I was sure we would have to [amputate], actually.” Her voice was shaky; she paused to collect herself before she continued. “It was Why’s idea…I think. We [used/cast?] [unknown phrase; name of spell?].” She looked at me. “With her help, we were able to [medical jargon].”

  Siltstrom scoffed with nostrils flared. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you before, Mister Ordine. This ‘Why’ is clearly a [charlatan?]. I didn’t expect Doctor Seaborne would join in the [trick??], however.”

  He continued, glaring at me as he spoke, but I was momentarily distracted from my language spell. I shall not record what happened next in any detail; let us say that my recollection of the next minute is hazy. Whatever it was that may or may not have transpired in that minute, everyone in the room understood, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Nadine and Jacque were telling the truth by the end of it.

  Perhaps I am more persuasive than I give myself credit for.

  The room was quiet for a moment more after arriving at this epiphany. Jacque’s faint voice broke the silence.

  “Doctor Siltstrom, your [services?] will no longer be required.” He let go of the doctor’s arm, tilting his head to look past the man. “Nadine… I trust you will take me into your care?”

  “Of course,” Nadine answered from her spot by the door; she kept her distance, hesitant to get any closer to Siltstrom.

  “This is absurd,” Siltstrom said stiffly, dusting off the front of his coat as he stood. “Even if… That is, somehow you…” He shook his head.

  “I know exactly how [able/capable?] you are, Doctor Seaborne, and this is beyond you. No, this whole situation has her [traces?] all over it.” He jutted his chin in my direction. “Can you really see my patient’s treatment through on your own?”

  “I’m not on my own.” Nadine crossed her arms over her chest. “Now, if that’s all, my patient needs his rest.”

  Siltstrom snorted, then made his way out of the room. He stopped in front of me to scowl. I staggered back, fearful that he might lunge at me, but Olrick quickly interposed himself.

  “I’ll see you out, friend,” Olrick said, grabbing Siltstrom roughly by the shoulder. Shaking himself free with a grumble, Siltstrom continued on his way, with Olrick close behind.

  “We should let you get some sleep,” Nadine said, to which Jacque replied with a faint grunt. Once we were out in the hall, she closed the door behind us and gave me a searching look.

  “We have a lot to talk about,” she said. The confidence and bravado she had projected when facing Siltstrom had drained from her face; now she just looked tired. “But that can wait until morning. Or afternoon. You look like you could use a [sleep-in].”

  ***

  And now you’re caught up to the present. This latest bit happened last night (or rather, early this morning), and it is evening as I write this. Nadine never did find a moment to have that conversation with me. Tracking Jacque’s progress and meeting with her usual patients certainly took up much of her time, though I imagine a part of her also isn’t sure what to say to me yet. I certainly wouldn’t know what to say if I were in her shoes.

  Last night, she mentioned that it would take a room full of mages to accomplish what the two of us did together. My Spellweaving is perhaps slightly above average, but I’m no prodigy among mages. Do Panzeans possess less magical willpower than Guntao people? Or is the power of their spells inhibited somehow by their reliance on those odd necklaces of theirs, those Hearts?

  Further, I would like to note that Olrick assumed that I’m a doctor. This implies that they don’t have any art like Spellweaving here, and that each Panzean only has access to the magic they were born with. I believe that posing as a doctor will be to my advantage—it is doctors who are vying for an audience with Lord Valia, after all, and he is the key to retrieving your body. But there are dangers to this approach. So long as there is a Panzean mage on hand to create a spark of healing magic, I can weave it into any healing spell I desire. (Once I’ve learned the art, that is.) But if there is no healer from whom I can borrow magic, then I shall be quite powerless to treat even the smallest of scrapes.

  I’m much too tired to make any decisions tonight. I still need to consider the implications of all I’ve learned, and how I’ll need to revise my beliefs about Panzea on top of everything else. For now, I think I shall lay in bed with my pillow draped over my side.

  If I close my eyes and hold very still, then I can dream that it is your arm, solid and strong, keeping me safe.