“I should go,” she said. Anden suggested she phone the house and have bodyguards come pick her up. He didn’t like the thought of his cousin going out alone given the threat of ongoing violence, nor the idea of her exerting herself further, but Shae argued that they couldn’t risk any Green Bones in the clan Perceiving Ayt in his apartment. Anden still frowned with concern, but Shae’s breathing and heartbeat were both normal enough that he called her a taxi and gave her a travel thermos of tea with a tincture to help her respiratory system.
Once the Weather Man had departed, Anden turned off the television. He could not bear to see the photographs of Kaul Hilo and Ayt Mada on-screen with the words MISSING underneath them, not when the one lying on his sofa, the one whose life he might be able to save, was not the right one. He watched Ayt’s shallowly rising chest, her eyes twitching beneath her closed lids. He knew he ought to take a nap and regain his strength, but he didn’t think he could sleep. He was too amped up with nerves and worry, and it seemed ludicrous to fall asleep in the same room with his family’s worst enemy, no matter how little danger she seemed to pose. Anden sighed, and stretched out his jade abilities once again, sliding his own energy into Ayt’s body, encouraging it to speed up production of plasma and red blood cells.
Ayt sensed him. Her eyes slitted partway open and settled on Anden. “Do you remember when we first met, Emery Anden?” the Pillar asked hoarsely. “Gont Asch brought you to see me. You were a frightened teenager, but you conducted yourself like a man. I knew then that you would become an asset to the Kauls.” Ayt’s bloodless lips lifted humorlessly. “At different times, I considered having you killed. Now I’m glad you never forced me to do so.”
“You should save your strength, Ayt-jen,” Anden said. “There’s no need to talk.”
_______
Shae was gone all evening. During that time, Anden hurriedly drove to the clinic where he worked and snuck out two bags of IV fluid along with a tube and stand, wound dressings, and antibiotics. He did so as quickly as possible and without talking to anyone. Even though Ayt was asleep, the thought of leaving the Pillar of the Mountain alone in his apartment was so strange that he didn’t want to do it at all, but there was no choice. It didn’t matter how much of his own energy he Channeled into Ayt to mitigate the effect of her injuries, none of it would matter if he didn’t get fluids into her and stave off infection.
Ayt was still unconscious when he returned. Her skin was not as ashen as it had been, and she appeared to be breathing easier. Anden thought he ought to clean the blood off her, give her a new shirt to wear—but the thought of undressing Ayt made his mind recoil like a poked oyster. He set up the intravenous tube and said, “Ayt-jen, I need to start a drip, and also change your bandages.” Ayt did not open her eyes, but her aura gave enough of a stir to suggest she’d heard him and understood. He didn’t want to startle her awake and have her react to a needle jab in her arm by tearing his throat out. At the same time, he felt silly for still fearing her. She was a badly wounded middle-aged woman, not a demon.
Anden turned the television back on and watched the news while resting and regaining his strength in between bouts of Channeling. Footage continued of emergency workers and Green Bones digging through the rubble of the collapsed KJA building with headlamps and flashlights. Confirmed casualty figures were updated on the bottom of the television screen when they were received. A reporter managed to get in front of a grimy, sweaty Juen Nu and ask him if he still hoped to find his Pillar alive. The Horn of No Peak was normally a factual man, known for being clear-eyed and unsentimental, but he glared at the reporter and snapped that Green Bones didn’t rely on hope so long as action remained to be taken, and everything would go faster if the media got out of the way and let them work.
Anden picked up the phone. He dialed the number for the main house but stopped at the last digit, his finger hovering over the button, the dial tone droning in his ear. He pictured the rest of the family together in the living room, or perhaps in the sparingly used prayer room, waiting for news. Wen, even in the grip of unbearable dread, would still be calmly telling the children that their father wouldn’t want them to panic. Ru and Jaya would be scared and asking questions, but Niko would be quiet, holding his fear inside. Anden couldn’t think of anything to say to them that would be of any reassurance. Calling would only tie up the phone line when it needed to be kept free. And how could he bear to lie to his family, to fabricate an excuse for why he wasn’t at the house with them right now because he was secretly caring for Ayt Mada?