Noam didn’t sleep well that night.
The next day was worse. Four patients died, but six more were brought in to take their place, spreading the ranks of doctors and cadets even thinner.
Bea, at least, still lived. She woke up for a little while around noon and managed to drink some soup, spooned into her mouth by Taye, but she vomited it up an hour later. Noam tried doing more magic tricks, but she couldn’t stay awake for them. Noam’s stomach cramped; she’d smiled the day before, if weakly. Yesterday’s hope had dried up overnight, leaving a crawling feeling in its wake.
Noam touched Bea’s forehead with the back of his hand, and Taye said, “She’s really hot, isn’t she? I think her fever’s getting worse.”
Her skin burned. Noam drew his hand away and sat down in one of the empty chairs.
His entire body felt heavy.
This was how his father died. In a red ward, leaking blood and magic from every orifice. He’d read that the symptoms of magic were what they were because it wasn’t like a regular virus at all. People’s bodies just weren’t meant to host magic. And if his mother hadn’t hanged herself, she would’ve died this way too.
Only maybe not. Maybe, just maybe, Rivka Mendel would have survived. And she’d never been as antigovernment as Brennan or his father—she might have stayed by Noam’s side the way no one else had.
“Is she okay?” Taye said abruptly.
Noam turned to look. Bea’s whole body had gone rigid, spine arced off the bed. Her eyes were open but rolled back, exposing glazed whites. “Shit,” Noam whispered, just as Bea’s body relaxed, then seized again, rhythmic contractions that rocked the cot back against the canvas and threatened to spill her thin body onto the floor.
“Wait—” Taye started, but Noam was already on his feet, dragging the IV stand out of the way so Bea wouldn’t hit it as she flailed.
“Bethany!” Noam shouted, casting his gaze out, hoping it would land on Bethany but unable to spare more than a second looking. On the bed, Bea shook violently, her jaw clenched and hands clawlike.
“Should I hold her down?” Taye asked.
“No. I mean, I don’t know, maybe...no, no, actually, that won’t help. Um. Make sure she doesn’t hurt herself on anything?”
And then Bethany was there, kneeling on the floor next to Bea’s bed, face bloodless. Her hands didn’t shake, though, as she pushed a syringe of clear fluid into Bea’s IV line.
“I sent someone for Halsing. It’ll be a while. She’s outside the air lock,” Bethany said. Her free hand twisted around a fistful of bedsheets. “But. I don’t think...It doesn’t look good.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Taye yelped. “She’ll be fine. We just need to wait for the doctor.”
Bethany didn’t look convinced, but she shut her mouth.
They hovered there, useless, as Bea shook and choked for air. She sounded awful, like her throat was convulsing the same way as the rest of her body, horrible fleshy noises, her mouth gaping open and lips rolling inward. Bethany turned Bea on her side at one point, in case she vomited, but nothing came out except spit.
Bea was still seizing when Halsing arrived, Noam crouched down at her bedside and holding on to her sweaty little palm. He could barely bring himself to look at her.
“How long has she been like this?” Halsing said.
Bethany shook her head. “Too long. Fifteen minutes, at least.”
Halsing’s mouth was a straight line.
“Is she going to be all right?” Taye asked. His tone seemed forcibly even, like he was trying hard to seem unaffected.
“I doubt it,” Halsing said. No sugarcoating.
“Can’t you do something?” Noam retorted. “Where the hell have you been, anyway? Achildis dying, and you’re off doing what?Help her!”
Halsing brushed her gloved fingertips against Bea’s temple, wiping away a bead of perspiration. “I wish I could, but it’s regulation. I have to spend my resources on those who might survive.”
Painfully, perfectly logical. After all, this place couldn’t support mechanical ventilation. Noam knew that. Bethany knew it too; Noam saw it in the lines between her brows and the set of her shoulders as she leaned in over the bed, like she thought proximity might keep Bea alive.
“Her IV bag is empty,” Noam said. His voice sounded like it came from far away, hard and angry. “I’ll get her a new one. We can at least spare fluids, right?”
Halsing hesitated, but then she nodded. When Noam returned from the supply closet, she and Taye had both moved on to other patients, leaving Noam and Bethany to watch Bea.
