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I tapped his forearm to indicate that he could remove the mask now. He opened his eyes and did so, only to replace it immediately with another mask. Oxygen this time.

“Do not say, ‘What about you?’ as you always do,” he said, straightening up. “I will treat myself. You rest.”

To my relief, he took a quick huff of the NanoRescue, then strapped on his own oxygen mask.

Knowing that he was taken care of, I let my tired eyes shut.

22

HALLUM

Iwatched Lualhati closely as she slept, monitoring her for signs of ill-health. I was fairly certain I’d administered her treatments quickly enough to prevent any permanent tissue damage or poisoning, but would not let myself look away yet.

After a while, I removed my oxygen mask. I had not been in the burning house long. I was not exhibiting any signs of damage, especially after breathing in some of that nano spray from Elora Station. I used some of the ambulance’s soothing antiseptic wipes to clean the soot from my face, ears, and arms. As I did so, I took in the damp, filthy state of Lualhati’s dress.

Thank the empire that she’d wet it, and her hair, before trying to get to the door. I had no doubt that the dress would have burned if she hadn’t.

Thinking about it, about all the things that would have happened if I had not gotten here in time, gutted me.

She’d told me to leave her there.

I wanted to wake her up just so I could tell her off for that. Tell her over and over and over again that my bones would be ash before such a thought would have even crossed my mind.

I would have happily left her boots behind, though. I’d finally managed to peel them off of her while she slept, and could happily go the rest of my days without seeing the things again.

But I wouldn’t throw them away. They were some of the only possessions left to her now.

When I felt comfortable enough with her condition to leave her side, I entered the driver’s compartment of the ambulance, taking it from the garage and closer to the house. I had to make sure that the fire would not spread to the shuldu barn. I did not think there was much chance of that, as the ground and trees were so waterlogged from melting snow. Rain began to fall, spattering the ambulance roof, which further convinced me that there would be no damage to the property beyond the house itself.

I landed the ambulance at a safe distance, observing the scene. The house was basically nothing but a blackened husk. Most of the roof was gone, collapsed or burned or both.

As the rain intensified, flickering orange receded. Smoke and steam billowed. And after that, not much happened at all. The fire was out. The smoke had all gone.

The house was a ruin.

There would be no salvaging it. Any of it.

It was no great loss to me since my shuldu were safe. I could rebuild here once the hospital was finished.

But I hated that all of Lualhati’s things were destroyed. She seemed to live her life cloaked in the comforts of all the things she’d collected over the years, like some kind of little bird that liked to weave all sorts of wondrous things into its nest. She’d brought it all with her into this new world. Because it was important to her.

And now it was gone.

I waited there for some time, making sure the fire was well and truly out. Then, I called Rivven, explaining the situation tohim and letting him know we would be spending the night in his saloon. He agreed to this at once, and promised that he and Shiloh would be ready.

He was true to his word. When I carried the drowsy Lualhati inside, they had food, water, and blankets ready.

“I’ve got a big tub of warm water set up in the kitchen, too,” Shiloh said. “If you two want to clean up.”

I thanked her, and she and Rivven both headed through the kitchen and up the stairs to their bedroom. When they were gone, I set Lualhati down to sit beside the large tub.

“Can you please put those out?” she whispered from behind her mask. There were several candles in here. I did as she asked, and thus cloaked the room in darkness. I could still see quite well, of course. But I knew that she couldn’t any longer.

She removed her oxygen mask and set it aside.

“I’d rather you kept that on,” I told her.

“The NanoRescue can help clear carbon monoxide from the blood,” she said tiredly. “And wearing the oxygen mask while I slept certainly helped. I’m out of danger now.”