“I am.”
“More successfully.”
The healer’s expression did not change, but one of her hands curled into the blanket. “I can close the skin. I cannot stop what is opening it.”
Marrow glanced at me once. “The Council’s instruction is explicit.”
“So is this.” The administrator held the annex in front of him. “Delphine Moreau remained in active Tower intake while Zenith Hall recorded her case as resolved. Sadie Corwin was transferred under a sealed directive, and the name of the person who received her was removed. Your requests for that record were denied twice.”
The muscles beside Marrow’s mouth tightened.
“You knew the records were incomplete,” she said.
“I knew access had been restricted.”
“You asked three times.”
“The third request was yours.”
“And now we know why neither of us received an answer.”
Delphine made a small sound behind her teeth. The black lines reached the edge of her wrist.
The healer pressed both hands over them. Light flared beneath her palms, soft gold against the harsher silver of the water channels. For one breath, the branching stopped.
Then the gold went out.
The healer staggered. A reader caught her before she struck the floor.
I moved toward the bed.
The steward seized my shoulder.
“Marrow,” the administrator said.
He looked past the blood and the healer being lowered into a chair. His attention stayed on Delphine’s face.
“Clear the room,” he said.
My heart kicked hard enough to hurt.
“Marrow—” one of the readers began.
“Take the healer to the preparation room and find the restorative tincture. Both of you.”
“And the prisoner?”
“Resident,” the administrator said.
Marrow did not correct her. “Remain outside the door.”
The readers exchanged a glance. The steward’s grip stayed on me until Marrow looked directly at his hand. Then he let go.
They carried the healer out between them. The steward followed. Marrow stepped into the corridor last, still holding the annex.
“The restriction remains in force,” he said.
“Of course,” the administrator replied.