Page 25 of Legacy Ascended

"You're alive."

"I'm alive."

She nods once, but her chin trembles, and she covers the bottom half of her face and doesn't take her hand away for a few seconds.

"Right," she says. “Can I do anything for you before you get back? Anything at all."

"I am bringing someone with me. Her name's Elise. And she has records from before Fourth House was destroyed.” Can you get a place ready for her?"

"Yes." She's already writing. I can hear the pen.

"We are going straight to the infirmary," Declan says. "We'll be there. Sophia's making a list of food and I've stopped trying to stop her."

"It's not just a list," Sophia says from off-screen, "it's an itinerary—"

I hang up smiling, which I did not expect to be doing tonight.

Jon drives us, and he has Doc's folder and Doc's instructions and no intention of handing either to anybody. I'm in the second row with the seat let back and pillows wedged between my left arm and the door, and Doc checks the arrangement herself before she'll shut it. Torres is beside me with my legs over his lap. Ander takes the front.

Soren drives the car behind with Elise and the records and Luke, who is going to be on the phone to Luftis for the next two hours and has been told he isn't touching a steering wheel while he does it.

We go over the stone bridge, and I hear the boards under the tires, and my hands close on the blanket.

"I heard the stone when they drove me in," I say.

"Yeah?" Torres says.

"Just saying it out loud so it stops being a thing in my head."

He reaches over and drops the window an inch on his side. Cold pours in over my socks. He doesn't ask if I'm all right, and puts his arm along the seat beside me.

Further down the valley Jon hits the central locking out of habit, and my fingers are on the handle before I've decided anything.

Ander reaches back without turning round and unlocks them.

"Would anybody object," he says, "if they stayed off?"

"Nobody objects," Jon says.

Somewhere on the long descent, I surface out of a doze to hear Torres and Ander arguing about how long I’m allowed to stay in bed.

“A week,” Torres says. “Minimum.”

“A week of bed rest will make her weaker.”

“She was shot.”

“In the shoulder. Her legs remain functional.”

“Thank you, Dr. Ardent.”

“I’m not claiming to be a physician. I’m saying that once the infirmary clears her, short walks will improve circulation and prevent unnecessary loss of strength.”

There’s a pause.

“You looked that up,” Torres says.

“I already knew it.”