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“Acc…accc…cuufff…” No longer did he pale when he coughed—he was pallid all the time.

“Let Bostric finish those joins,” I suggested.

“I just came down. Are you trying to push me out again, Lerris? I’m the shop-master. It’s my business, and no outlander will tell me how to run it.” He glared at me, even as he had to support himself on the bench. “Acc…accc…acuuufff…”

“I’m not trying to push you anywhere. Bostric is your apprentice, and he’s here to help you. If I can help him learn, fine. But how can he help if you insist on doing everything?” I pressed a touch more order upon his system, but only a touch. He was so fragile that anything more would have done more damage than the coughing.

“Papa…” added Deirdre. When she talked to her father, her voice was firm, gentle, no matter what the pain she held inside.

“All of you…you all want to put me away…” Even as he protested, Destrin let Deirdre lead him up the stairs.

I laid down the plane and motioned to Bostric as soon as Destrin was out of sight. We looked over the bench Destrin had been resting against, rather than working upon.

“Can you clean this up and finish it?” I asked.

Bostric studied the seat plate. “How would you suggest I fix this?” He pointed to the beginning of an off-center hole, probably angled when Destrin started coughing.

“You’ve got one or two choices—fill it and reset. Or cut the size and redo the spokes. Make it more ornamental…”

Bostric licked his lips nervously.

“Go ahead. Destrin can’t finish it.” I didn’t know how accurately I spoke.

Whhssttt…

Deirdre stood at the stairs. “Lerris…?” Her voice was almost matter-of-fact. That she stood there at all told she needed something. Resourceful in all things, from running the accounts to developing her own cushioning business to running the shop and household food budget, she had asked nothing—except once. Yet behind the quiet facade, I had begun to understand, lay a strong will.

“I’ll be right there.” Catching Bostric’s attention, I said, “Destrin and I need to discuss something. If a customer should show, just ring the bell, and I’ll be right down.” Then I followed Deirdre up the stairs. If she hadn’t been so upset, I almost would have smiled at Bostric’s hidden appraisal of Deirdre.

“Papa…he’s moaning, and he doesn’t know who I am…” The seaming work she did was neatly laid on her table by the rear window. She probably earned more from the sewing than Destrin did from his infrequent benches, and saved more than that from her handling of his accounts.

Bostric would do better than he knew, and I only hoped I had the time to help him be more than she knew.

Destrin lay upon the wide bed, eyes closed, breathing raggedly and quickly, a bluish tinge to his fingers and a grayish look to his face. His eyes opened. “Kyren…where’s…girl…”

“I’m here, papa.” Her thin voice was low.

“Kyren…so…cold…”

As I reached into that frail and wasted body, the burning, the pressure seared me, and I had to grasp the bedpost, even as my senses touched the knotted heart, easing a cramp here, letting the blood flow and strengthening what I could, the parts that had yet enough firmness to strengthen. It took a long time, gently as I had to work, and I didn’t remember sitting down.

“Lerris…Lerris…” A cool cloth touched my forehead.

My head was not splitting, but a dull ache and a great tiredness encouraged me not to move.

“Something to drink? Redberry?” I asked hoarsely.

Deirdre brought me a cup. A few sips and I felt almost normal, if light-headed. I eased myself out of the chair and tiptoed over to the bed. Destrin’s color was no longer grayish, only pale, and he slept. I nodded, but wondered how much longer I could hold him together, and whether I should, recalling the pain I had felt in touching him. My eyes blurred for a moment.

“Lerris?”

I had forgotten Deirdre was standing beside me.

“You saved him…again.” Her voice was neutral.

“Yes.” I shook my head. “I don’t know, Deirdre. I don’t know. He hurt so much.”