When she awoke, nothing was the way it was supposed to be. Every morning for weeks, she'd woken up to firelight playing on red cave walls, the growls of chimaera in other caverns, the smell of cooking meat or piss or bad wine. The ground hard and rough against her shoulder blades, the air cold and getting colder.

This morning, when she woke up, she mostly just noticed that everything was soft. She was lying on a mattress - a real one, like the feather beds she'd stacked in her flat in Prague - with pillows cradling her head. The bed was covered in sheets and blankets and still more pillows, all soft and finely woven, in shades of red and gold. The light, at least, was similar: still firelight, though this time from candles and one flickering oil lamp in the corner of the room.

She was in a room. A real one, with a door and windows with heavy velvet coverings. With a sigh, she pulled herself upright to get a better look at her surroundings.

Wallpaper, a four-poster bed, a cushy armchair in the corner. And through the door in the corner - a bathroom. A real one. She was sure she could see a shower.

Stepping lightly on the tile floor, she padded around the room. She wasn't entirely confident she was really awake, but if this was a dream it was the nicest one she'd had in months, and she was in no hurry to wake up. She poured herself a glass of water from the sink - a working sink, a working faucet - and splashed her face until it felt almost clean.

From beyond the covered windows, she heard the call of the muezzin, lilting and strange and comforting, at the same time. So she was back in the human world - funny, she didn't think of it as home anymore - probably in Morocco. But how?

The door to the hallway creaked open, and she jumped and spun into attack position. Her reflexes had gotten better and better the more people tried to murder her.

It was Akiva. He stood just inside the door, wings glamoured and face drawn.

It was Akiva.

"What's going on?" Karou demanded, dropping her hands but not her stance.

Akiva set down the bag he was carrying and stepped just inside the room, closing the door behind him. "I brought you something to eat," he said, ignoring her question. "And some tea."

"Where am I?"

"In Marrakech, back in your - the human world."

"Why?" Karou could feel her face getting hot, but she didn't care. Who did he think he was? What had he done to get her here?

He looked at her evenly. "You fainted," he said. "You and Zuzana were performing a resurrection, and you fainted. She tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't respond. Since she can't fly, she asked me to take you back here, to a real doctor. Chimaera battlefield medicine mostly involves letting people die and resurrecting them, but she didn't think that was ideal for the resurrectionist herself."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "So did you take me to a doctor, or just stash me away in a hotel?"

"It turns out that you're a bit of a celebrity," he said, nodding towards a crumpled piece of paper on the nightstand. Karou picked it up: it was the front page of a newspaper with her face on it. The headline: Satan on Earth? Of course. "So I brought you here instead. If you still hadn't woken up in a few hours, I'd have taken you, but your friend thought that you needed a few hours of sleep and something to eat. It seems she was right."

"I sleep," Karou said, grumbling. "I eat."

Akiva arched an eyebrow. "Your friend told me she hadn't seen you eat in three days, and that every time she told you to eat, you said you were too busy."

"I am too busy," she snapped. "And I'm too busy to take a vacation, or - whatever this is. Thanks for the effort, but there's work to do."

He just looked at her. "Sit down," he said, and the tone of his voice changed. It was softer now, lower. "Eat something. Please. Your work is important, but it won't help anyone if you're dead, or if you faint every time you perform a resurrection."

As much as she hated to admit it, he was probably right. She hadn't been sleeping well, or eating much - or at all - and it was taking a toll. She got frustrated more quickly, and everything seemed to take longer. She walked over to him and picked up the bag, and the smells that wafted up out of it - Karou had been eating dried meat and rice for months, and this smelled like the best food she could imagine. She took out package after package of food - falafel and couscous and lamb and tagine, more food than she could possibly eat in one sitting, or even three.

"I wasn't sure what you liked," he admitted shyly.

"Then I guess you'll have to eat some of it."

He protested at first, but she could tell he was hungry and it didn't take much convincing - the food smelled heavenly. He sat down across from her, carefully keeping his distance. Their hands brushed when they both reached for a piece of pita, and he pulled his hand back like he'd been scalded. "Sorry," he said quietly.

She cocked her head questioningly. Sorry he'd touched her? She couldn't blame him. She had made it crystal clear that she blamed him for Loramendi, for Brimstone, for the thousands of chimaera who lay in the great cathedral beneath the city. She had told him, with every word and look and action, that she loathed him, loathed his touch - of course he would pull away.

They shared their food in silence, but every time she looked up his eyes were on her, careful, watching. Karou realized she hadn't looked in a mirror in a very long time. How bad did she look, that he stared at her so intently?

"You're not going to let me leave tonight, are you?" she asked as they packed away the leftover food in boxes.

He shrugged. "I don't really think I could stop you. But I wish you would stay here, at least for the night. Nothing is going to happen if you're gone for one night. Zuzana told me to tell you that she paid for this room herself, and she would take it very personally if you didn't use it."

At that, Karou actually laughed, and his eyes brightened to hear it. "I don't want to face her wrath," she said.

"I wouldn't risk it," he said solemnly.

"In that case, I'm going back to sleep."

Akiva nodded. "I'll go. I didn't mean to bother you - I just wanted to make sure you were all right, and had something to eat."

"Back to Eretz?"

He looked at her curiously. "Yes. I assume you know the way back, when you're ready."

"Of course." Karou bit her lip. "But - would you stay?"

For a long, long time, he just stared at her.

"You don't have to," she said in a rush, unable to wait out his silence. "I just - I'm used to having people around when I sleep. On guard, I guess. You don't have to stand guard, of course you have things to do - I'm sorry," she finished lamely. "I shouldn't have asked."

Akiva shook his head. "I'll stay."

...

Of course he hadn't been able to speak. He had felt terribly guilty about bringing her across the threshold while she slept; guiltier still about sitting in the room where she slept, tossing and turning. He wanted to get food for her, but that wasn't the real reason he left - he didn't want to face her fury when she woke to find him sitting in her room, watching her like they were still lovers. Like they weren't enemies.

So for her to ask him to stay - it was unimaginable, and it felt like a piece of the forgiveness he knew he could never earn.

Karou moved around him in silence. He heard the shower running in the bathroom for a long time, and above the running water he heard what sounded like crying, but by the time she came out her eyes were clear. While he was out picking up food, he had also gotten her another set of clothes - "I know you love her, but she smells terrible," Zuzana had told him - which she put on in the bathroom before she climbed into bed. Akiva stood awkwardly in a corner, watching her and trying desperately not to watch her.

"If you're not tired, you could watch TV," she suggested, flicking off the lights.

He just stared at her, and she quickly amended her suggestion. "It's the box in the corner. If you turn it on, there are shows on - I guess they'll all be in languages you don't speak, but you can usually figure out what's going on anyway."

Even after that explanation, he didn't really understand, so he assured her that he would try to sleep, too. He didn't mention that he was just as short on sleep as she was.

"Okay," she said, pulling the blankets up to her shoulders and turning her back to him. Her voice was soft, hesitant. "Good night."

"Good night," Akiva said, sinking back into the armchair. He stayed awake for a long time, waiting for her breathing to even out before he allowed himself to sleep.