The sun rose, sparkling and bright as always, into Numair's blinking eyes. He supposed he must have fallen asleep at some point, his head against the cool stone wall. The fire was mere embers now. Immediately he glanced at Daine. She was still asleep, but no longer shaking and muttering, at least. When he felt her forehead, she was still dangerously hot. And she hadn't eaten since noon yesterday, he imagined – they had to get nourishment in her somehow. At least she can drink, he remembered, so he tilted the cup of water to her mouth.

When the liquid touched her lips, her eyelids fluttered. Her mouth opened and she drank the water greedily. Numair wiped away a drop that had spilled onto her chin and set aside the empty cup. "More?" he said, and Daine nodded. There was still one more full cup, and Daine drank all of it. Even then, her voice was raw when she finally spoke.

"What… what happened?" she asked, coughing. Weak as it was, her voice still sent a wave of relief through Numair's tense and sore body. At his feet, Kitten perked up.

"You were not 'fine' last night," he said, worry giving his voice a dry edge. But seeing her confused, cloudy blue eyes, he melted back into sympathy. "You passed out in the courtyard. The animals all went mad, which is how we knew to go after you and bring you here, with Baird."

She nodded to show she understood. "What's… wrong with me, then? I'm still…"

"We don't know yet, magelet." With the hand that wasn't holding hers, he cupped her cheek, a habit of his that Daine had pointed out quite recently, actually. Apparently he always did that when he was worried about her. She noticed this time, too, and smiled wanly. "Anything else you can tell me about how you feel?"

"Weak all over," she muttered. Her eyes closed, and Numair was afraid she'd pass out again. "I had… dreams…"

"Fever dreams," Numair said. "Stay with me, Daine. Anything else? Did you do anything yesterday that might have gotten you sick?"

"No… I just… with you, then some riding, and I healed some animals who'd been hit by immortals… bleeding, scratched me…" She tilted her head toward her left shoulder. Numair moved the blankets and her sweat-soaked tunic to reveal a few red, swollen scratches. But Daine is part of the People, too. She doesn't get infections from their claws.

"My mouth… tastes like blood," she said, opening her eyes again. "Fair strange."

Daine would always be Daine. Numair would have smiled if her words hadn't made him so uneasy. "I need to go get Baird, magelet. I'll be right back. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried," she said. "I know you won't let nothing happen to me."

"I won't let anything happen to you," he said automatically. But he didn't know if she heard, for her eyes were closed again. Before letting her hand go, Numair kissed it gently, then rose and knocked on Baird's door, who entered at once.

"Any changes?" he asked.

"She started muttering in the night. Fever dreams. Some scratches on her shoulder. She woke up a second ago. Oh – and don't be surprised, but there are a number of animals in the bed with her."

"Did she recognize you when she woke?" Baird asked as he inspected the scratches.

Taken aback by the question, Numair blinked and had to search for his response. "Y-yes."

"Good. Sometimes fever can do funny things to the mind." He rested his hand on her forehead, a suffuse greenish light spreading underneath Daine's skin. For all his power, Numair had no trace of the healing Gift. He would have traded everything to be able to help Daine as Baird was now. "What else did she tell you when she woke?"

"She said she was weak all over, and her mouth tasted of blood," Numair reported.

Baird's sharp eyes flicked away from his patient. "Blood?"

Numair nodded. Baird's tone, one of unwelcome surprise, gave Numair the chills, despite the warmness of the room. He watched as Baird opened Daine's mouth and looked inside. "No blood. She doesn't seem to have bitten herself. It could be caused by a dry mouth, but I see both cups are empty…"

A knock sounded on the infirmary door, and Onua entered with a bowl of broth in her hands. "How is she?"

"No different, and we're no closer to figuring out why."

Onua sat down in Numair's vacated seat. "Can she take some broth?"

Baird nodded. "It would do her good."

Carefully the K'miri woman tipped small spoonfuls of broth at a time into Daine's mouth. She sighed. "Horse Lords, I hope this passes soon. The horses are jumpier than I've ever seen them. Not to mention all the rest of the animals, too."

"It's like we've all forgotten how to function without her," came another voice from the doorway. Thayet and Jon had returned. "Shall I send that message to Alanna?"

"Please," Baird said. He turned to bring the fire to a blaze once again, then placed another warm cloth on Daine's forehead. "I'm going to search her body for infection again, with my Gift. Fever is the body's way of fighting off infection, and I'd hoped that it would work, as it's the most natural and usually effective mechanism we have for staying healthy. But as it hasn't, I'm going to try and find the source, and perhaps then I can eliminate it there. But it's not guaranteed." He looked up at all of them, his gaze sympathetic.

"We'll leave you to it," said Onua. She set aside the broth and spoon. "Come on, Numair. You won't be any use like this. Take a bath, get some rest. You'll only get in the way of Duke Baird's healing like this, and you know it."

He did know it, but that didn't make it any easier to take. Leaving Daine's side was always difficult, but this time was perhaps the hardest of all.

"I'll take very good care of her, Master Numair, I promise you that," said Baird.

"I know you will," Numair said, and he kissed Daine's forehead before following Onua and the others out the door. Kitten remained behind. Numair was so weary that he didn't notice the K'miri's sharp eyes on him.

"Go," she said sternly. "Bathe, sleep. You know you'll be the first to hear any news of her."

"Thanks, Onua."

Once back to his quarters, he did as the horsemistress recommended. Bathed and dressed in clean clothes, he did feel a little calmer, though he still paced around his room for some time. If only there was something I could do, he thought furiously. She'd only been sick a day, yet he was already feeling the loss of her usual witty remarks and their extensive time together like an open wound. We have all forgotten how to function without her, he thought. I certainly have.

Feeling slightly like an impatient child, Numair sent a spell to Baird's infirmary, a small but high quality listening-spell that lingered invisibly in a corner. This way, he really would be the first to hear if anything happened. With his own magic warm by his ear, Numair finally consented to lay down and get some real sleep, his dreams filled with fear for his student and friend.

Days passed with very little change in Daine's condition. Her fever had gone down enough for her to not be in as much immediate danger as she was that first night, but they were still pushing liquids on her, and she shivered violently if they removed any blankets or let the fire burn down. Every now and then, she would come to. Numair had been at her side in almost all her lucid moments – to be fair, he was at her side for as long as he could get away with – but they were becoming fewer and fewer, and less and less lucid.

Alanna arrived from Pirate's Swoop a few days into it. Daine was awake when she came in, and happy to see her friend, but didn't seem to have the strength to speak.

"Don't worry," Alanna said gently, shooing Numair from his seat. She took Daine's hand, and Numair saw a flash of purple flame. "I have something for you." She produced a sloppily made drawing of a bushy-haired girl next to a dragon. "Thom drew it. Quite the artist for his nine years. George and the twins send their best to you as well."

Daine could do no more than smile weakly.

Baird entered. He and Alanna conferred, all business, despite the fact that they were old friends. Numair felt incredibly useless, which was not a feeling he enjoyed. At least he felt like he was helping when he held her hand as she slept. Baird had told him she was quieter when he was around.

"Will she be able to handle it?" Alanna asked. "I think we need to do it, but…"

"If we raise the fire…"

"Do what?" interjected Numair, having lost track of their conversation, too deep in his own thoughts.

"Alanna's going to inspect her body physically as well as magically, just in case," Baird explained. "But that would mean exposing her, no blankets, and she can't be that cold for long."

"Numair, perhaps you could perform a heating spell from outside the room? Maybe doing it over a distance and through a wall would ensure that she doesn't burst into flames because of your power."

Numair winced at the thought. "I can do it. I'll be careful."

He had only been standing outside the infirmary, maintaining the warmth spell, for a few moments before he heard Alanna curse. "Baird! Get in here!"

If Baird was invited, Numair figured he was, too. He burst into the room to see Daine covered by a blanket, but her bare shoulders open to the air; her old clothes lay folded at the foot of the bed. At once Numair noticed what had made Alanna shout out. The little cuts that Daine had shown him were more than just red now. They were wildly inflamed, puffy and discolored, black and blue and green. Numair had never seen the like. All the magic Alanna and Baird administered didn't make a change. Creams and poultices were no better.

"These are no normal scratches," Alanna said through gritted teeth. "Numair, do you know how she got these?"

"She said – she said they were from some animals she was trying to heal in the woods. But she's immune to infections from animals, we know that." They still looked skeptical. "I am positive of this. It's not an animal-borne infection. I would never say anything that jeopardized Daine's health, you know that."

"I believe you," Alanna said at last. "No normal infection looks like this, anyway."

"Why was she trying to heal the animals?" asked Baird, studying the swelling. "What was wrong with them?"

Numair struggled to remember her words. If only I'd been with her when she was doing it, I'd know. I should always be with her. It was a foolish notion, but a tempting one. "I think she said they had been attacked by immortals."

"Which immortals? Stormwings, hurroks?"

"She didn't say."

"What're you thinking, Baird?" Alanna said cautiously. Baird sat back, rubbing his face with his hands.

"It's only an idea. And it's hard to be sure with so little information. And there hasn't been a case in centuries, since the immortals left, so I only know of it from books - "

"What is it?" growled Numair, his heart banging, though he refused to let his raw nerves show. He tightened his fists at his sides.

Baird looked him square in the face. "It could be unicorn fever."

Alanna frowned. Numair thought hard. Unicorn fever… unicorn fever…

And then it hit him. He had read about it ages ago, just a passing mention in a book about diseases of old, and if not for his extraordinary retention of written material, he never would have known such an obscure tidbit. Unicorn fever was an incredibly rare disease contracted when the blood of a unicorn somehow entered the bloodstream of a human. Fast-acting fever debilitated the person and exhausted their immune system, and the infection was then free to attack the mind. It was typically fatal, Numair recalled. Typically fatal.

"If I'm right, she probably contracted it if the animal that scratched her had also scratched the unicorn, winged or no, and had its blood on its claws. Even a tiny drop can infect a human, especially one Daine's size, in no time at all. Everything fits – the fast fever, the delirious dreams, even the taste of blood in the mouth. In fact, that is the strongest piece of evidence. Every text on the disease I've read says that as it is born of blood, the person infected will taste nothing but blood."

"Can you heal her?" Numair asked, not looking at either of them. Only at Daine.

"I… Unicorn fever hasn't been seen in centuries. There was never a cure, and… and few fought it off naturally."

"Can you heal her?" he asked again, and he supposed he was shouting, because he suddenly felt Alanna's magic pressing against him, which had to be a warning.

"Calm down, Numair," she said, and though she was over a foot shorter than him, her crackling purple eyes made an intimidating sight nonetheless. "This is no time to forget yourself. This is Daine. If anyone can fight through this, she can. But what we need you to do is not panic. You need to leave us to our work, and if you could scour your bookshelves for anything that might help us, that would be greatly appreciated."

She's right. There is something I can do. Acquiring a purpose greatly cleared Numair's mind. Instead of focusing on his fear, he focused on the task at hand, and it was able to largely drive thoughts of Daine from his head. Books had always been able to consume him.

He wished Tkaa were here, with his vast expanse of pre-Human Era knowledge, but the basilisk was off studying in the great library of Sir Myles of Olau. No matter how much Numair engrossed himself in his searching, every now and then a memory or an image of Daine would flash through his mind. Her smiling face when he taught her something new, or when she met one of her friends; the way she felt in his arms when he held her back in the emperor's palace in Carthak. Each time that happened, he had to push the book away and breathe deeply for a moment to clear his head again.

Only she could make the strongest mage in Tortall so useless, he thought dryly. He felt a small creature rubbing against his feet, and glanced down to see Kitten, standing hopefully on her hind legs. Kitten had been at Daine's side almost as much as he had.

"How're you doing, Kit?" he said as he lifted the dragonet into his lap. "Missing her? I am, too."

Kitten trilled and nudged his chest, but Numair patted her down. "Stay still, Kit. I've got work I should be doing… work that will help Daine."

At that, Kitten listened to him, curling into a patient ball on Numair's lap. Her weight was a warm comfort. As he read, he stroked her smooth scales; it helped him focus. The next book… it'll be in the next book… the next one…

In the brief moments she came to, Daine's head was full of clamoring cries of concern from the People. I'm all right, she told them all, though even the mind-speaking, usually thoughtlessly easy, cost her strength. Please don't worry about me. You're making all the two-leggers nervous.

They all wished her good health and strength. Every night a different set of furry creatures would crawl into her bed and warm her, though she didn't always know they were there. But she did know he was there. Almost every time she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was his smiling face, though it was becoming blurrier and blurrier in her mind. Numair's hand would cup her cheek, and she'd try to smile, then drift off into the horrors of her fever dreams once more.

She was back in Carthak, in the Hall of Bones. But the friendly skeletons of the creatures of old were not there anymore. She wandered through the empty room, but no matter how far she walked, she never found the door. She started to run. Something was chasing her, she could feel it, but every time she turned around there was nothing behind her, so she ran faster, faster, faster.

Shapes materialized around her. Dead shapes, but not the kind of dead she had once brought back to life. These were corpses. Corpses of ones she loved. She saw Cloud, charred and skeletal and broken; Kitten, a mess of blood and bone; Brokefang, human swords and spears through his chest. She saw people, too, with flesh rotting from their faces, but somehow she still recognized them. Onua, Alanna, the king and queen, even their children. Sarge and the Riders. Everyone she knew, everyone she loved…

Right in front of her loomed another. This one was taller than the rest. Black, anguished eyes stared through her soul as blood dripped over every inch of his swarthy skin.

Numair.

"No," she said aloud, though she didn't hear herself. She tried again. "No! No! NO! NOOOOOO!"