"-lucky you were there, Isas. She most likely would have died. She still might, if she doesn't have the strength-"
"-she has the strength." That cold voice was absolute. "I will make sure she has the strength."
...
"-better take this magic, you stupid girl, because it's all I can do to help you, and if you don't, and you die, I'll never be able to tell you what was in your pox-rotted perfume-"
Sleep, Niva thought. Quiet. Still. Sleep.
...
"-will pay for prolonged treatment if she suffers brain damage or madness? Her father? Or Winding Circle? She is a novice there. Maybe one of them can-" There was a pause and some whispering. "Oh. I see. He has taken care of all of it?" More hushed words.
A cool hand brushed her forehead. "You are lucky, Niva, to have a friend such as him."
Niva, she thought, is that me?
And then the blackness swallowed her again.
...
Her eyes opened slowly. She was in a white room, under white sheets, with someone dozing in a chair next to her bed. Reaching over with one hand – that's right, I have hands; she studied them with faint interest – she brushed his dark hair out of his face. He woke immediately, staring at her.
He wanted to say something meaningful to her. Something to describe the agony he'd witnessed in her. Instead, what came out of his mouth was: "Plumeria."
Her jaw dropped in surprise. "What?"
He coughed into one fist. "Your perfume. I know the ingredients. The plumeria was to dull the cinnamon, I presume."
Her eyes were unreadable. "Yes. And some sage for tang."
Isas sighed, resting his head in his hands. "You've been asleep for nearly two weeks. We weren't even sure you would wake up." He tried to smile and failed. "I told them you would."
Niva's eyebrows snapped together. "Of course I would have woken up! I was happy there, finally, but it's not like it was dangerous. I'm sick of this stupid school, where people claim to do things for my own good but end up ruining everything!" She clenched her fists. "Why can't they just leave me alone?"
Now he frowned. "That is the silliest thing I've ever heard from you. If you don't like this school, you can leave it, although I'll think less of you if you do. You didn't have to tempt the gods by trying to become something you're not."
"I wasn't going to die," she said stubbornly. "I was just trying to feel what that tree felt. It was fantastic, all the years packed in those rings, rolled out for me to see and experience-" She stopped at the odd expression on his face.
"Perhaps those are our faults," he said at last. "I have too much restraint and you not enough. Niva, you must promise me never to do that again. Never."
She sighed and looked down. "I promise." They sat in silence for a few minutes.
Finally Niva spoke again. "But you have to promise me something, Isas."
His eyes met hers. "What is it?"
"You have to tell me how you figured out my perfume."
His smile was shaky, but it was there. "That's fine." He raked a hand through his long black hair. "And when we're done maybe you can figure one of my own creations."
She smirked. "As if I couldn't."