Pixel dashed out from where they were hidden and threw her arms out to hug Alden. Nate caught her at the last minute with his good arm and swung her away before she could hurt him. Alden favored his middle more and more with every step.
Sparks followed her, gesturing to the shadowed form of Brick and what appeared to be a struggling Juniper. Her bandana was gone but to Nate’s relief, she appeared unhurt. “She woke up and wouldn’t stop fussing. Brick gagged her. Didn’t have to tie her up. She’s weak as a babe.” She saw Alden, and her mouth thinned to a frown.
Nate held Pixel close. She peered up at Alden, her small eyebrows furrowed. “Alden. Are you sick?”
He stared at her for a long moment, as if he didn’t recognize her. A faint, hazy smile tugged at his lips. “A touch, princess. I need to sleep.”
“I know a sick-den near here,” Sparks said. “Ivy House. I went there when I was kicking chem. It’s like a med clinic, but the Servants don’t care if you’re registered. And they take the dying.” She looked away from Alden quickly. “I mean. . .people hurt real bad.”
Alden didn’t answer. His eyes had fluttered closed, and he listed against Reed.
“They’re not full anymore?” Brick asked.
Nate’s breath sucked in, afraid to hope for a way to get Alden help. “After the wreck, all the sick-dens were turning people away.”
Sparks scratched at her neck. “I don’t know. Only one way to find out.”
“All right.” Reed crouched and hefted Alden into his arms.
Alden went limp. The blood on his feet was black in the dim light. Nate wanted to cover him in blankets, hide him so no one could see the bruises and the angles of his bones.
“Why are you doing this?” Nate asked softly, the question only for Reed.
Reed turned his green eyes on Nate. Soft, inscrutable pain flashed there before he blinked it away and grimaced with the strain of carrying Alden. “Because he’s your friend.”
Nate’s fidgeting fingers ran over each raw circle at his wrists. The rain had washed the worst of the blood away, but the flesh was wet and ruined to his touch. His shoulder throbbed with hot, determined pain, and it pulled him away from the tangled rush of confusion and warmth Reed made him feel.
He turned to Sparks. “Show us the way.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sparks led them to a narrow street lined with brownstones in the neighborhood Nate had lived in with Bernice. Bin-fires in front of every house cast a faint glow. The group climbed stairs to a burned-wood sign on the door that read “Ivy House.” Nate smiled with a twinge of affection. His mother would have liked that name. But there were no creeping vines here, only a crumbling brick stoop.
It was the kind of quiet street the gang had avoided when scavenging. These were homes crammed full of families relying on subsidies from the workhouses. It was a relatively safe area, but Nate glanced over his shoulder. He couldn’t shake the sense that someone was following them, despite Sparks’s careful watch.
Children played on the street a few doors down, pushing a ball around with plastic sticks. Pixel watched them longingly.
“Sorry, Pix. You have to come in with us,” Nate said. He didn’t want to frighten her, so he left it at that.
“Sickness in there,” a woman said from the stoop next door. She sat barefoot, nursing a sleeping toddler wrapped in a yellow sheet. Her gaze settled on Alden, who sagged between Sparks and Reed. “The stillness calling?”
“I don’t know. They’ll take him?” Reed asked.
She shrugged. “That’s what they say. Long as they stay in there, I don’t much care.” She frowned at Juniper, who still wore Sparks’s bandana—across her mouth. “What’s that all about?”
“Addled,” Sparks said. “Took a handful of chem.”
“More than a handful, I’d wager,” Brick added.
After a moment of silence, the woman laughed, startling the toddler—who squawked at her breast until she coaxed it to latch on again. “That’ll scramble somebody up.” She sobered. “Hope it ends quickly for that one. Gods watch him.”
“Thank you,” Reed said. They hung back as Nate went to the door and knocked, nerves sharp. The last time they’d gone looking for help, they’d ended up in the Breakers’ hands.
A small peephole slid open.
“Why have you come here?” a soft voice asked.
“Our friend needs help,” Nate said.
