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Like his mentor, Raphael rubbed his hands together. Unlike his mentor, he laid them directly over the break on Marc's thigh, his brows furrowed. "I feel it," he murmured. "Moirin! Lend me your energy."

I tried.

I cast about for the twilight, fumbling. Breathed in and out. I couldn't find it. The room was too tight, too close. There was too much stone around me, too many books and man-made things, too many eyes watching, too many expectations.

"Moirin!" Raphael's voice rose. "Now!"

"Wait!" I turned to the surly lad. Bao. "May I?" I asked him. The staff he leaned on was made of wood. Unfamiliar wood, flexible and segmented, carved with runes and bound with steel bands, but wood nonetheless. I touched it unbidden.

He nodded reluctantly.

It remembered its origin. Groves of slender trees swayed in the sunlight. I breathed in its faint scent and took that half-step into the world beyond.

I breathed it out, my hands settling atop Raphael's. Everything I had, I gave to him to use. Everything.

Warmth surged between us.

"Oh!" Marc de Thibideau's back arched; then he settled. "Oh," he said in a wondering tone. "That's better. So much better."

I sank to my knees, drained. Behind my eyes, I saw only a sparkling darkness. I bowed my head and leaned it against the couch. "Will he heal?"

Raphael beckoned. "Master Lo?"

The two of them examined the young lord together. "His flow is much improved," the Ch'in physician murmured, then said something in his own tongue, an unintelligible stream of strange consonants and rising and falling tones. The surly lad Bao stooped and helped me to my feet, giving me his staff to lean on. I rested my cheek against the wood. "See here," Lo Feng added. He guided my hand to touch the warm skin of Marc's bare foot. "Only minutes before, it was cold."

"I see." I gave Marc's foot a feeble squeeze. "See, my lord? You'll not be a cripple."

He regarded me with awe. "You are a miracle worker!"

"No." I shook my head. "But if I was able to help, I'm pleased."

"It is a wondrous gift," Master Lo Feng said softly. "Would you do me the honor of discussing it with me?"

"Aye," I said. "Only not today." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Bao looking fidgety without his staff. I handed it back to him, wavering a bit.

Raphael caught my elbow. "It wearies her."

"Of course." Lo Feng gave me a bow. "Lady Moirin, perhaps we may arrange a time when you are recovered." For the first time, he smiled. It was a lovely, gentle smile. "I look forward to the pleasure of your company."

I summoned a tired smile in return. "And I yours."

* * *

CHAPTER THIRTY

Upon returning to Raphael's townhouse, I went straight to bed and slept clean through until dinner. If Daphne hadn't shaken me awake, I might have slept through dinner, too. I stumbled downstairs to find Raphael in high spirits.

"Here." He plunked a small purse on the table before me.

I hefted it. "What's this?"

"Half of my fee from today." He grinned. "I reckon you more than earned it. I'd give you the whole of it if I thought you'd accept it."

"I wouldn't." I pushed the purse toward him. "And you've already been overly generous."

"Keep it." He pushed it back. "My sense of honor demands it. Besides, you'll need money for a patron-gift tomorrow."

I blinked. "Patron-gift?"

"At Cereus House," Raphael clarified. "It's customary to leave a gift of money or jewelry for your adept. That's how they make their marques. Until they do, they're beholden to their House."

I felt foolish. "Marques?"

"A tattoo of the insignia of their House." He inclined his head and tapped the nape of his neck. "From the base of their spines all the way to here. It's an old custom, somewhat to do with Naamah scoring her lovers' backs with her nails in the throes of passion. You didn't notice Jehanne's?"

"No." I rubbed my eyes. "I didn't notice Jehanne's. How much is it customary to leave?"

"At a minimum, ten percent of the fee." Raphael shrugged. "Beyond that, the sky's the limit. Moirin,