Jacob was sitting on the side of Elisabeth's bed, processing her words. He knew the canal, and had been there before. The brick walls either side varied in height with the bank, and with the towpath on the eastern side. In some parts, the wall rose higher than the bank, shielding the surrounding areas from the water in case of flooding. He remembered Elisabeth in her entranced walk, standing with her back turned to the church to look down the narrow alley leading to the canal. It was where her father had left her while climbing the tower, and where she had watched him fight for his life and loose. If he had hidden the journal in the canal wall, it would be there, close by the alley. It made sense; Elisabeth had tried to make him search along the canal, pointing away from the church. Moreover, Elisabeth's father had not left her to hide the journal. He had hidden it close to her, and gone to get an overview and find a safe way out.

There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Cutler entered the room, carrying a pitcher of water. "If she is running a fever, we need to keep her temperature down," she said, collecting the washbasin and putting it on the small table. Jacob rose from his seat on the bed and filled the basin for her. Mrs. Cutler started folding down the covers. Elisabeth looked frail, her fevered face and limp body a stark contrast to the headstrong countenance she usually demonstrated. "I should have been able to keep you safe." The thought clawed his insides.

"It might be better if you leave."

Mrs. Cutler's words brought him back to reality. He was trained not to reveal his emotions, but the thought had caught him off guard, and Mrs. Cutler had noticed. She caught his eyes and sent him a stern smile.

"I will take care of her," she said.

Sitting down on the side of the bed she wet a cloth and started cooling Elisabeth's face and neck. Jacob gathered his blades and left the room. He had to finish the mission and retrieve the journal, and keeping occupied would distract his mind off Elisabeth. "Don't let your personal feelings compromise a mission," he thought darkly, remembering his father's words. "Rather: use the mission to supress your personal feelings."

Once more, he trekked across the rooftops towards Limehouse. He considered to seek out Evie before going, but decided against it. He craved the solitude and silence of a lone mission, letting his mind focus on nothing but finding the journal. Moreover, he wanted it finished. Although the Templars had left the area last night, he expected them to be back. By coming there with Elisabeth yesterday, Jacob had practically confirmed the journal was there. As long as they had not located a hiding place in the bell tower, they would surely soon widen their search.

Nearing, Limehouse Jacob noted numerous Blighters in the streets. There were far too many of them for it to be a coincidence. The Templars were back to continue their search, and were adamant to keep Jacob and his sister away from the area. A stern, lopsided grin spread across his face. As if, a few Blighters was going to be enough to keep him away.

He surveyed the church from a distance. Several figures were moving around it, clearly searching the exterior for the journal. Blighters were guarding the gates to the churchyard. Jacob kept to the roofs and the shadows, closing in on the area while staying out of sight.

Stealth was not his strongest side, not caused by lack of skill; Jacob just did not see the point of it. He would often start out a mission stealthily, but if something happened, a captured Rook being beaten or Blighters exploiting children, or any other incident he could not idly stand by and watch he would expose himself and teach the Blighters a lesson they sorely needed. If things got bad, he could fight his way out and outrun any stupid Blighter. Really; what was the fun and excitement of a mission if he could not to use his fighting skills. This time, however, there were no distractions and Jacob wanted the mission finished.

The towpath and the canal ley deserted. In the distance, on the viaduct of the Blackwall railway line, a train was slowly crossing the canal. The cargo train was on its way towards the docks with goods, and the rumbling noise it made blocked out all other sounds. Jacob waited for the train to pass before letting himself drop to the towpath. As he started searching along the canal wall using the eagle sense, the world's colours faded into black and white. The low placement of the towpath meant he was shielded from view, but it also meant a great disadvantage if he was discovered. Jacob did not intend to stay down there for long, and searched the wall efficiently. A little further along, he saw a white glimmer near the top, and quickened his pace. Something lay hidden there in a cavity in the wall. Quietly he climbed to the top and crouched down. The top of the canal wall was level with the bank and the alley leading to the church. Jacob knew the distance to the guards by the gate was short, but the corner of the nearby building blocked their line of sight.

The top stone in the canal wall was loose, only held in place by the snug fit. When Jacob moved it, there was a scraping sound, and a deep thud, as the stone fell to the towpath beneath. It was loud enough to carry a short distance and alarm the guards by the gate. They would soon be there to investigate its source. Jacob quickly reached into the hollow wall and felt the smooth surface of an oilcloth wrapping against his fingers. He drew out a small package, and knew he had found what he wanted.

In the alley behind him, footsteps were approaching. He had to move if he was not to be discovered. Jacob had noted the number of enemies in the area and this was not the time to pick a fight. He ran along the canal, scaled the viaduct and hid behind the adjoining building as the guard reached the canal. Jacob unsheathed a throwing knife. Finding the gaping hole in the wall, the Blighter turned to sound the alarm, but no sound crossed his lips. Instead, there was a whet 'chuck' as the throwing knife hit him in the neck, and he crumbled to the ground. Jacob took advantage of the window of opportunity and ran along the viaduct away from the area. Before anyone else came along, he would be long gone, well on his way to find Evie on the train.

Jacob had not been back to the train for weeks, not since he and Henry sought out Evie together. As he entered, Evie looked up from the parchments she had been studying, curious to see him there. Then she noticed the parcel in his hand and drew her breath in surprise. "You found it!" she said astounded.

"Yes, I found it. Cole did not hide it in the tower, he hid it in the canal wall, close by the alley where he left Elisabeth," he said.

Then he relayed how he had found the journal. Jacob understood his sister's elation, and was happy for her. She was devoted to the cause, and sitting idle did not suit her. Finally, she had new clues to follow and could continue her work. However, he could not find any joy in the situation. Now that the mission was ended and the journal recovered, he found it hard to keep from worrying over Elisabeth. His thoughts travelled back to the base, and he saw her fevered face no matter how much he tried not to. The image of her lying unconscious against the pillows would not leave his mind. She seemed so frail, and he feared her life was slipping between his fingers.

"It is my fault". The surge of pain he felt had him draw his breath sharply.

Evie was watching him. He had been pacing the floor of the railway carriage, blindly absorbed in his worry over the girl. She had spoken to him, but he had not noticed. The journal lay untouched on the table in front of her and the joy she had expressed just minutes ago was gone, replaced by a worried look.

"Jacob, what is it? How is she doing?" she asked, ashamed that in her eagerness over the journal and new clues, she had forgotten about Elisabeth.

"Not too good. When I left she was running a fever."

Both knew what it meant. Any wound could go bad, and it usually started with a fever. The girl's life depended on whether or not it broke and the next couple of days would be critical. Jacob braced himself for his sisters scolding.

"Jacob, don't blame yourself for this," Evie said.

They were not the words he had anticipated coming from his sister. She usually rolled her eyes at him and scolded him for every mistake he made, and he would let it wash over him or pick a fight with her, depending on what suited his mood. Now he had anticipated a lecture, and been ready for a fight. The surprise he felt turned to anger.

"You can't mean that! I should have been able to stop her; I should have been able to keep her safe. She trusted me. Why don't you tell me off like you usually do?"

"I have been telling you off, because you did not care about the consequences of your actions, Jacob," she said calmly. "Now I see you do."

Her usual annoyance with him was gone. Maybe it was because her mind was at ease from having new trails to follow, or maybe it was a form of gratitude. He had aided her in finding new clues, as she had asked, even if it was no deliberate choice of his. In any case, she had taken the time to open her mind, and now she was seeing right through him, just like she had when they were children.

For month's he had missed his sister and the bond they shared; the way they used to understand each other before coming to London and the fierce but friendly competitions they used to have. She had become absorbed with her work, and her nuisance with him had brought out the worst in him. He had gone into the missions trying to provoke her, being reckless and rash, to the point where she could not see any of the good he was doing.

He had wanted her to see him, but he was not ready for this: for her to see his heartache and fear and take pity on him. He needed her to be angry with him so he could take his frustration out on her. Fuming, he turned around and left the railway carriage. He would find relief from his inner turmoil as he usually did; by trekking the roofs of London, letting the physical exertion empty his mind.

Jacob returned to the base in the afternoon, to find Mrs. Cutler was still by Elisabeth's side, cooling her fevered skin. The covers were folded down, the sleeves of the night shirt rolled up and the collar buttoned down to cool as much skin as possible. He could see Mrs. Cutler's concern with the girl, deep furrows lining her forehead. When he leaned over and felt the girls burning forehead, Mrs. Cutler said, "She has been out all day. I have not been able to wake her, and she has taken no food or drink."

Her voice was trembling and it unnerved him deeply. Mrs. Cutler was not easily unsettled, but she knew as well as he did, that getting Elisabeth to drink was essential. Without it, the fever would burn her out and she would die.

"Then lets wake her," he said.

Pain had been part of Jacob's life for as long as he could remember. He knew it well, as a consequence of the training he was put through, but also as the knowledge of how to put pain to use; to hit a specific point to stun the senses, or keeping a captive in check by the twist of an arm. Inflicting sharp pain could also be employed to wake an unconscious person. He knew it would leave a nasty mark for a few days, as he put his knuckles against Elisabeth's chest. Rubbing the skin hard against the bone underneath with his knuckles, she flinched and opened her eyes. Getting an adequate amount of water into her was a joint venture, Mrs. Cutler spooning water in her mouth, Jacob supporting Elisabeth and keeping her from relapsing into unconsciousness. By the morning, she would be blue and green, but it meant nothing.

Her fever broke at dawn, Jacob learned the next morning as he came by her room. The woman watching over her was on her way out, but stopped in the doorway to talk to him.

"She is resting, but I think she is waiting for you," she said, "make sure you don't keep her up for long, she needs to sleep." Then she left.

Elisabeth was dozing as he entered. She looked pale and drawn, but the fevered redness of the skin was gone. He put his hand on her forehead, needing to make sure the woman was right, that the fever had really gone. Her skin was cool against his palm and he felt relieved as he sat down on the side of her bed.

His touch woke her and she looked at him with matte eyes.

"Did you find it?" she asked.

"Yes, I retrieved it last night. It was hidden in the canal wall, just like you said."

He did not want to upset her, but felt there was one more thing she needed to know.

"Your father did not leave you to hide the journal. He left it close by and went to get an overview, probably to find a safe way out."

Tears welled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She had wondered why her father had left her alone in the alley, all those years ago. Why he had chosen to safeguard the journal over his own daughter. He hoped the information would put her mind at rest. She dried her tears, and tried to sit up, but instantly winced.

Without asking, Jacob reached for her cup and the bottle of gin. He had noted the lines on her face as he sat down and suspected she had masked the pain from the woman who watched over her. She had used it to stay awake, anxious to know the fate of the journal. He handed her the cup, and this time she took it and drank without hesitation, knowing it would bring relief. Leaning against the pillows, she closed her eyes, and Jacob left her room. The worst was over, now time and rest was all she needed to get her strength back. As he walked downstairs to breakfast, Jacob felt the tension he had carried the last couple of days leave his body. She was going to be all right.