She hiccupped a few times, then breathed in deep. Her body relaxed and she fell into an exhausted sleep.

The sickness nestled in my chest, causing me to suck in noisy wet breaths. I couldn’t pull enough air into my lungs. Goose bumps raced across my skin as a sliver of fear touched my heart. I hadn’t healed anyone this sick before. Would I be strong enough? Had I waited too long to help Fawn? My own cowardice would kill me. Fitting.

The effort to breathe consumed my energy. Black and white spots swirled in my vision as I fought to stay conscious. Even though my body healed ten times faster than a regular person’s, I was quite aware that it might not be fast enough.

Luckily, this wasn’t that time. The crushing tightness around my ribs eased a fraction. I concentrated on the simple act of breathing.

Mavis woke me in the morning. I had fallen asleep with Fawn still in my arms.

“How did you get her to sleep? She hasn’t stopped crying in days,” Mavis said.

Still groggy, I searched for a good explanation. “My tuneless humming must have bored her.” My voice rasped with phlegm and set off a coughing fit.

“Uh-huh.” She peered at me with a contemplative purse on her lips.

“Her fever broke last night,” I tried between coughs.

Unconvinced, Mavis gently lifted Fawn and transferred the girl to her crib. “You should rest, as well. You look…”

I waved off her concern. “Nothing a couple of hours of sleep won’t cure.” But my legs betrayed me as I staggered to my feet. Moving with care, I headed toward the door.

When I reached for the knob, Mavis said, “Avry.”

I froze and glanced over my shoulder, waiting for the accusation.

“Thank you.”

Nodding, I hurried from the room. The climb to my place drained all my strength. I hacked up blood as the sweat poured from my body. I needed to grab my escape bag and leave town. Now. But when I bent to retrieve the knapsack from under the bed, a wave of dizziness overwhelmed me. Instead of fleeing, I collapsed on the floor.

A part of my mind knew I only required a few hours of sleep to recover, while another part planned the quickest route out of town. A third part still worried. With good reason.

A fist pounded on the door hard enough that I felt the vibrations through my cheek. Waking with a jolt, I scrambled to my feet. A male voice ordered me to surrender. Darkness filled the room and pressed against the windowpane. I had slept all day.

Unfortunately, this situation wasn’t new to me. I scooped up my escape bag and exited through the back door. Pausing on the landing, I scanned the area. Moonlight lit the wooden steps. No one blocked them. Hurrying down, I shouldered my pack and ran through the empty alley that reeked of cat urine.

A figure stood at the alley’s southern exit so I turned around. Except the northern route was also blocked. The only way out was through the tight space between buildings to the street where there would no doubt be more town watchmen.

The crash of a door echoed off the bricks. Upon my landing, a man called, “Do you have her?”

The two in the alley closed in. Guess I would take my chances. I darted through the narrow opening and right into a waiting town watchman’s arms.

Voices yelled, “Don’t touch her skin.”

“Take her pack.”

“Cuff her quick.”

The drowning sickness had rendered me too weak to put up much of a fight. In mere seconds, my hands were manacled behind my back. My three years on the run had ended. It was hard to tell if fear or relief dominated. At this point, both had equal sway.

The captain of the watchmen yanked my shirt off my right shoulder, exposing my healer tattoo to the crowd. It appeared as if the entire town had gathered to witness my arrest. As expected, they gasped at the proof of the monster in their midst. And to think, I had once been proud of the symbol of my profession—a simple circle of hands. From a few feet away, it resembled a daisy with hand-shaped petals.

I scanned faces as the watchmen congratulated themselves on their catch. Mavis and her husband stood among the gawkers. He glared and approached me, dragging Mavis along. She wouldn’t meet my gaze. Little Fawn clung to her mother’s leg.

“It doesn’t matter that you saved my girl’s life,” the husband said. “Your kind is responsible for millions of deaths. And the gold your execution will bring this town is sorely needed.”

True. Tohon of Sogra placed a bounty of twenty golds for every healer caught and executed. I suspect the plague killed one or more of his loved ones. Otherwise, why would a powerful life magician care? The disease certainly didn’t care, eliminating people without rhyme or reason.

Right before I was escorted to the jail, Fawn waved bye-bye to me. I smiled. My empty, pointless life for hers. Not bad.

Inside the town watch’s station house I endured endless rounds of questions. They wanted me to turn over my healer cohorts. I almost laughed at that. I hadn’t encountered another healer in three years. In fact, I’d guessed they had been smarter than me and had found a nice refuge to hide in while they waited for this current madness to pass.

I refused to answer their ridiculous queries, letting their voices flow past me as I concentrated on Fawn’s healthy face. Eventually they removed the manacles, measured me for my coffin and locked me in a cell below ground level, promising tomorrow would be my last day. I had an appointment with the guillotine. Lovely.

At least the guards left a lantern hanging on the stone wall opposite my cell—a basic cube with iron bars on three sides and one stone wall. Equipped with a slop pot and metal bed, I had the space to myself. And no neighbors in the adjoining cells. The bedsprings squealed under my weight. My lungs wheezed in the damp air thanks to Fawn’s stubborn sickness.

I wasn’t as terrified as I had imagined. In fact, I was looking forward to my first solid night’s sleep in three years. Ah, the little things in life.

Too bad, I didn’t even get my last wish.

Chapter 2

A low cough woke me from a sound sleep. Instincts kicked in and I jumped to my feet before I realized where I was. In jail, awaiting execution.

“Easy,” a man said. He stood near the door to my cell. Although armed with a sword, he wasn’t wearing the town watch’s uniform. Instead, he wore a short black cape, black pants and boots. The lantern’s glow lit the strong and familiar features of his face. I remembered him from the crowd that gawked at my arrest.

I waited.

“Are you truly a healer?” he asked.

“You saw the tattoo.”

“For a town on the edge of survival, twenty golds is a considerable sum. I’ve learned that desperate people do desperate things, like tattoo an innocent person. Is that what happened to you?” He leaned forward as if my answer was critical.

“Who wants to know?” I asked.

“Kerrick of Alga.”

I’d thought he was a town official, but the Realm of Alga was north of the Nine Mountains. If he wasn’t lying, then he had traveled far from his home. “Well, Kerrick of Alga, you can go back to your bed and rest easy. The watchmen caught the right girl…and by tomorrow this town will be safe once again.” Which wasn’t entirely true. At twenty years of age, I wouldn’t call myself a girl, but woman sounded too…formal.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Why do you care?”

“It’s important.” He sounded so sincere and he stared at me as if I held his fate in my hands.

I huffed. What did it matter now? “Avry.”

“Of?”

“Nowhere. It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

“It does.”

“Of Kazan. Happy?”

Instead of answering, Kerrick clutched the bars with both his hands and leaned his forehead against them for a moment. I had thought he felt guilty about my impending execution, but his recent behavior failed to match.