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From out of nowhere, storm clouds rolled in and snow started to fall hard.

Damn, the Scribe Virgin was good.

As V headed off through what was now nearly a blizzard, he imagined a white light of protection around both him and the man in his arms.

“You came!”

Marissa smiled as she shut the door to the cheery, windowless patient room. On the hospital bed, looking small and fragile, was a seven-year-old female. By her side, looking only somewhat larger but much more breakable, was the young’s mother.

“I promised last night I would visit you again, didn’t I?”

When the young grinned, there was a black hole where her front tooth was missing. “But still, you came. And you look so pretty.”

“So do you.” Marissa sat on the bed and took the young’s hand. “How are you?”

“Mahmen and I have been watching Dora the Explorer.”

The mother smiled a little, but the expression didn’t touch much of her plain face or her eyes. Since the young had been brought in three days ago, the mother had seemed to be on some kind of numbed-out autopilot. Well, except when she jumped every time someone came into the room.

“Mahmen says that we can only stay here a little while longer. Is that true?”

The mother opened her mouth, but Marissa answered, “You don’t have to worry about leaving. We need to take care of your leg first.”

These were not wealthy civilians, probably couldn’t pay for any of this, but Havers never turned anyone away. And he wasn’t going to rush them out.

“Mahmen says that my leg is bad. Is that true?”

“Not for long.” Marissa glanced down at the blankets. Havers was going to operate on the compound fracture momentarily. Hopefully it would heal right.

“Mahmen says I’ll be in the green room for an hour. Can it be shorter than that?”

“My brother will keep you there only as long as he has to.”

Havers was going to replace her shinbone with a titanium rod, which was better than losing the limb but still a hard path. The young would need more operations as she grew, and going by the mother’s exhausted eyes, the female knew this was just the beginning.

“I’m not scared.” The young tucked her tattered stuffed tiger in closer to her neck. “Mastimon is coming with me. The nurse said he could.”

“Mastimon will protect you. He is fierce, as a tiger should be.”

“I told him not to eat anybody.”

“Wise of you.” Marissa reached into the skirting pocket of her pale pink gown and took out a leather box. “I have something for you.”

“A present?”

“Yes.” Marissa turned the box to face the young and opened it. Inside, there was a gold plate about the size of a tea saucer, and the precious object was buffed to a high shine, all mirror bright, gleaming like sunshine.

“That’s so pretty,” the child breathed.

“This is my wishing plate.” Marissa took it out and turned the thing over. “Do you see my initial on the back?”

The young squinted. “Yes. And look! There’s a letter like as in my name.”

“I had yours added. I’d like you to have this.”

There was a little gasp from the mother in the corner. Clearly she knew what all that gold was worth.

“Really?” the young said.

“Hold your hands out.” Marissa put the gold disk in the girl’s palms.

“Oh, it’s so heavy.”

“Do you know how these wishing plates work?” When the young shook her head, Marissa took out a little piece of parchment and a fountain pen. “Think of a wish and I’ll write it down. While you sleep, the Scribe Virgin will come and read it.”

“If she doesn’t give you your wish, does that mean you’re bad?”

“Oh, no. It just means she has something better planned for you. So what would you like? It can be anything. Ice cream when you wake up. More Dora?”

The little female frowned in concentration. “I want my mahmen to stop crying. She tries to pretend she doesn’t, but ever since I…fell down the stairs she’s been sad.”

Marissa swallowed, knowing full well the child hadn’t broken her leg like that. “I think that’s fine. I’ll write that down.”

Using the intricate characters of the Old Language, she penned in red ink: If it would not offend, I would be grateful for