Nodecia stood transfixed by her father's pale appearance. She hadn't seen anyone so white since the Bleeding Plague had drained Rubien, and he teetered on the edge of death.

"I. Asked. You." Obeth took a step with each word. "Did. Anyone. See. You?"

Obeth spoke deliberately: softly and slowly. His words burned like hot coals, forcing Nodecia to retreat, taking shaky steps backward to her cot. The question felt like a threat. With everything else she had done, if she admitted to being seen, she was sure her punishment would be more than an ungrateful and capricious escort.

Nodecia shook her head forcefully.

"Don't lie to me, Deci. I can't protect you if I don't know the truth. All I do is try to protect you, but you seem determined to get yourself in trouble."

"I...I had to help him. He was. He was going to die." Nodecia replayed her father's words in her head as she fumbled her own. Obeth promised protection, but his words stirred anger all the same.

She stopped, squared her shoulders. "Would it have benefitted you and your brothers if he had died? Does it benefit you when any of them die? Ryklash had to turn away a mother and a sick child today with a few meelo blades. Meelo blades!" Nodecia recoiled. "Ryklash could have healed that fever within minutes, but she had to send the mother to the back to pluck up the herbs like a thief. Then she threatened the poor woman to keep her mouth shut. We can't live like this. We weren't meant to live like this. With all that we are bound by a leash which you tightly hold." Nodecia took a breath. "Our necks are chafed, and we are dying."

Obeth put a finger to his lips, then went to the door. He listened, then called out, "Hello? Who's there?" He moved to the window, threw it open, peering into the dark he called again. "Who's there?"

No one answered, so he pulled the window shut, marched over to Nodecia, and stopped just short of her exhaled breath.

"Did Ryklash see you?" he asked.

Beads of sweat peppered Obeth's white brow. Nodecia wanted to but knew she couldn't lie. Obeth knew the answer; he just needed her confirmation. Fear and anxiety twisted a tight knot in Nodecia's stomach, fear and anxiety that wasn't her own. One of the side effects of being a Soother. She couldn't always ignore the emotional state of those closest to her. At the Temple, she openened up to ailments; with Obeth, her body seemed tuned to his. It didn't take much to read him and sense the physical symptoms of his emotional stress. His blood flow increased and his belly acted contrary to its normal functioning. She could feel, not heal his altered emotional state. She could only ease his symptoms.

Nodecia swallowed hard against the vomit climbing up her throat. Nodded.

"Good. Use that against her if you need to. Don't trust anyone. Not even your sisters, Deci."

"Beeba? What's wrong? You're scaring me."

Obeth smiled. "It's fine. I just want you to be careful. That's all." He closed the few inches that separated them and wrapped her tight in his arms.

Nodecia bit her tongue, trying to stifle her sobs; still, she crumpled against his chest. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed her father's embrace until she'd let him hold her. Obeth's chest pounded against her despite his whispers of assurances telling her that everything would be alright. She tightened her grip around him and gave in to the violent rocking that accompanied her now free, flowing tears. It wasn't OK. She let herself be held and held her father, waiting for his blood pressure to normalize, waiting on something inside him to match the stillness of his voice. Anything. Eventually, she gave up and finally released him. The following day she awoke to Obeth's empty cot.

She studied the Obeth-sized dimple in the blue fabric wrapped around the wooden support. The material wasn't as taut as hers. She hadn't noticed that before. Hers was firm against her back, affording her a comfortable sleep. By the look of Obeth's, she could tell that his weight would have brought it closer to the wooden beams of the floor. More a hammock than firm support.

She washed, dressed, and ate with her eyes glued to the spot, studying the dimensions of the indentation until it appeared too small to belong to her father. Still, she watched it. She eyed it until the sun shone through the window above the cot, throwing bright light into the room. She watched it until a voice called her to the yard. When she got to the door, Dinian stood with his hands wrapped across his chest; his eyes swept from left to right across the yard, and he tapped the ground with his foot, stirring red dust. Nodecia went to him and accepted his escort to the Temple. She had planned to apologize for whatever had made Dinian choose darkness and hunger over her warm dinner and hut, but at that moment, the injury of the boy from the fringes wasn't her concern.