Ahead of us, the crowds converged on a broad, two-storey building. The structure was plain for the Upper District, with white walls and a spireless roof of brown, wooden shingles. Large arched windows in the walls let in the light and kept out the smoke.

It took me a second for Castille's comment to click.

The victims of fire…

The Sisters would be overwhelmed with patients! Sin's distraction could backfire and lead to Isla's death.

Panic fluttered in my chest. I looked over my shoulder, trying to stare through the wagon's canopy.

"Dugan! How much longer can you last?!"

A long moment passed before his deep voice rang out through the canvas cloth.

"Not… long..."

Spirits below, just hearing him made me tired. I turned back to Castille.

"We have to hurry!"

"Aye, I know."

# # #

Dead bodies were laid out in rows on the lawn surrounding the building. Weeping family members walked among them, identifying their loved ones for cremation. The spectacle drew stares from onlookers seeking treatment and those drawn by their morbid curiosity.

A loose line of capital guards kept the latter at bay. Behind them, women in gore-splattered aprons flit in and out of the building's wide-open doors. They were followed by guards dressed in the livery of Luskaine's nobility.

So, the Sisters had shadows.

We moved as fast as we dared through the crowd, stopping at the line of guards who bristled as we approached.

"You there, halt!" A guard said.

I jumped off Dugan's horse to the sound of loud gasps from the crowd around us. The guards closest to me lowered their spears in my direction.

"Wait!"

I raised my hands.

"My friend needs healing!"

"Look around! Lotta people need healing," Another guard said.

He waved his spear from me to a line of people sitting off to the side. They had burns and bruises, but no injury as serious as Isla's.

"Get in line with the rest."

A third guard scoffed.

"His kind we'll leave for last."

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My anger flared.

"Her name is Isla! She's human and she's dying! We need help now!"

Castille dismounted her black mare, one hand on Dusk's pommel.

"Get a load of this one. Does that look like a human to you?"

"What's going on out here?"

The three guards stiffened. They shuffled out of the way for a stern-faced Sister who wore her grey hair in a tight bun.

"You are tasked with keeping the peace, not disturbing it," she said.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but we are keeping the peace. This elf here was trying to jump the line."

The senior Sister gave the guard a withering glare.

"This is a hospital, not a tavern. There is no line. We triage our patients, and we do not discriminate. If you have the coin, you have our service."

The guard slinked back, browbeaten by the elderly noblewoman. She turned to me, her experienced eyes taking in the quality of my clothes at a glance.

"While I'm sure you can pay our fee, don't bother. The Crown Prince is paying for the treatment of all those affected by this… unfortunate event. Now, pull your wagon closer and let's see to your friend. I warn you. We are overworked and understaffed. If her injury is minor, you will have to wait."

I motioned to Sim to move the wagon. He nodded, pushing his hat down to cover his face as the wagon rolled past the guards. He stopped the wagon at an angle, on the left side of the hospital's front entrance.

"Matron, may I join you?"

The Sister's stern face softened.

"You may."

A young man around my age walked up to her side, a white apron wrapped around his green wool tunic. He was the first male healer I'd seen among the Sisters. He didn't dress like a noble, but he looked like one. He had perfectly coiffed blonde hair, clever blue eyes and a slight smile on a face that was too handsome.

I hated him already.

A mean-looking veteran in a simple navy gambeson flanked him on his other side.

No livery? Interesting…

Castille and I tied our horses to the side of the wagon and met them at the back.

"Dugan, come out," Castille said.

Wood creaked, and Dugan's face emerged from our stockpile of supplies. He was deathly pale and gaunt as if all the moisture in his body was sucked out of his skin.

He lumbered out of the wagon, falling forward into Castille's arms.

The Sister frowned.

"That's dangerous. Any longer, and he could have become a revenant."

"Better me die than her," Dugan grumbled.

"How noble. The patient is in the back?"

"Yes," I said, a bit of panic in my voice.

The thought of losing them both was too much.

The Matron moved to step into the wagon, but was cut off by the young man.

"What's the meaning of this?!"

He ignored the Matron and Thor's startled whine as he cleared a path to Isla. The young man dropped to his knees, raising Isla's head in his lap and pressing two fingers against her skinless forehead. His eyes narrowed.

"Her pulse is weak! Matron, please bring another Sister!"

The urgency in his voice sent a wave of fear through us.

The Matron stiffened and ran to the entrance of the hospital in a flurry of cloth.

The young man took a breath and spoke.

"Lawrence… turn around."

His guard took a step closer, glancing from him to us.

"But-"

"Do it… Please…"

The guard grumbled, giving each of us a suspicious glance before walking back and turning to stare at the growing crowd behind us.

"You as well," he said, looking at us.

Castille crossed her arms.

"Not happening. Whatever healing you do, we see it."

The young man flashed a cocky smile.

"You might regret that."

He turned back to Isla and closed his eyes; his brows furrowed in concentration. He rested a palm on Isla's forehead, and with his other hand, he grabbed his wrist.

He took a deep breath, and the world breathed with him. The wagon creaked, its wooden structure bending in his direction. A soft breeze pushed me forward, and the air—no, reality warped around him.

For a single moment, he was the centre of the universe.

And then the spell broke.

He exhaled, releasing the tension in the air and a wave of energy that washed over us. New flesh rippled down Isla's face. Golden hair sprouted from her head and eyebrows.

A sputtering cough, and Isla's eyes opened. She blinked up at the blonde, handsome man looming over her.

"Brother?" She asked in a whisper.

Brother?!

And in that moment, all the clues fell into place.

Before us was the Crown Prince of Luskaine.

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