“Sorry about that,” said Nurse Trudy. “Augustus is very good at his job but he has literally no other skills.”

“Proof that there’s such a thing as too much power levelling?” I said.

“You get it,” said Nurse Trudy. “This place has never been better organised but we have to keep him away from donors, parents, and patients because he is incapable of taking a hint about anything.”

“So how come Henning is a Doctor and you’re a Nurse? Do they not let women be Doctors in Moonstone?” I said.

“It’s not like that,” said Nurse Trudy as she set off walking, “They’re different career paths. We’re both HEALER types but the Nurse skills focus is on patient care and the Doctor skills focus is on diagnosis and cure. For acute healing needs you want a Doctor, for Chronic or long term healing needs you want a Nurse. If you’re planning to get injured you need some potions from an Apothecary. For first aid, midwifery and end of life care you want a Witch. Of course in the countryside it tends to be all Witches so it’s no surprise you don’t know the difference."

I followed her to a long, airy room full of beds and children. At the far end of the room was a younger woman wearing the same white uniform as Nurse Trudy. She was seated between two occupied beds with all her attention focussed on the children in the beds.

There were a few other occupied beds in the room but most of the children were sitting on the floor in a large group. Some played with wooden toys. Some were drawing or colouring in. There was one older girl, who looked about twelve, sitting on a pile of cushions and reading to some of the smaller children.

The children looked mostly okay but even if I hadn’t been in a hospital I would have known there was something wrong. The fair skinned children were too pale with flushed cheeks and clammy foreheads. The darker skinned children had a greyish tint to their skin. There was one Beast-kin child. Or should that be pup? Cub perhaps? Whatever the correct term, he was lying on the ground colouring something in using waxy chunks in a selection of bright colours. I assumed that was the local equivalent of wax crayons. His nose was dry and cracked, he was panting and listless and he made me feel achy and too warm just looking at him.

“This is just one of the wards,” said Nurse Trudy. “We try to keep children who fell ill at the same time together. It helps us to compare how the Fever is progressing. So many of the records from previous outbreaks have been lost that we’re not sure how long it should take for them to recover. We have detailed records from the last outbreak and some notes from the previous one. We’re not even sure that the Fever progresses the same in every outbreak. That’s part of why the Rotveil Diary is so useful. That and it helps us to get closer to a start date for this outbreak.”

That reminded me of something. I was sure someone had mentioned a start date before. “Why does the start date matter so much?” I said.

“Because the Fever is only the first phase. The second phase follows soon after. It is less predictable but it’s usually violent,” said Nurse Trudy

“Could that be why Rotveil was deserted?” I said.

“Hard to give an opinion before I read the diary for myself,” she said, tapping the book and then putting it in one of the pockets of her blindingly white apron.

“Excuse me, Sister Luschin?” It was the younger nurse at the end of the room, the one sitting between the two occupied beds. So not everyone called her Nurse Trudy then.

There was a certain urgency in the younger nurse’s voice that worried me. What worried me even more was the speed with which Nurse Trudy responded to her. I followed in her wake as Trudy skirted the children playing on the floor and headed to the beds.

When we approached I realised that these weren’t really beds. They were more like bed shaped cooling devices. There was a boy in each bed, wrapped up in blankets that gave off a faint blue glow. Each blanket had on it, somewhere easily visible, a brightly glowing mark in the shape of a stylised flame. The boys looked alike, they had very similar features and both were pale with a high red flush. The hair I could see peeking out from their head wraps was blond. Both of them looked extremely unwell, but the indicator marks on the blankets told very different stories.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The boy nearest us was hot enough that I could feel it just standing next to his bed but the indicator marks were mostly green or yellow. The boy in the bed nearest the window was so hot that I was half convinced that I could see a heat haze shimmering above his face. His indicators were mostly orange with a couple of reds. One ticked over into red as Nurse Trudy went to his bedside.

“We’ll have to move him,” said Nurse Trudy.

The younger nurse stood up but Nurse Trudy shook her head. “No, you stay here. I’ll move him. Tommy might take a turn if he realises we’ve moved his brother. He might need you.”

Nurse Trudy pulled a purple, palm sized gem from one of the pockets on her apron and slotted it into a socket on the headboard of the bed. The bed rose a couple of inches into the air and levitated there. She then pushed it out of the room as if it was on invisible casters.

She talked constantly to the boy in the bed, “Don’t worry about the movement, Barney. We’re taking you on a little trip to cool down a bit more.” It seemed like she was talking as much for the other children as for Barney because his eyes were closed and I seriously doubted he was in any state to worry about anything.

As the door to the ward swung shut behind us she said, ”We’re going to take you to the Cryo Room.” She pushed the bed along to a set of sliding doors at the end of a corridor. “I’m sure you’ll find it very interesting. Master Armstrong is the greatest expert in Runic magic outside the Dwarven mines, and the only one in the world specialising in Ice Runes. I remember you said you wanted to learn more about Runic magic. I think Petra can get the doors for us.”

I slid the doors open to reveal a tiny, plain room with no windows, lit by glowing wall panels. It reminded me of a lift*. When I slid the doors shut behind us there were a series of glowing runes that I knew to be numbers on the inside of the door.

“Basement please,” said Nurse Trudy and one of the runes changed colour.

I could feel the drop but it was as smooth as any lift I’d been in back home. There was even a soft bell sound when we stopped.

I slid the doors open on a subterranean passageway lit by more of the glowing wall panels. Nurse Trudy pointed to a set of double doors marked Runic Engineering. I held the doors open and Nurse Trudy pushed the bed into the room beyond.

That room was not something I had expected to see in a hospital. It was one part blacksmith, one part laboratory and one part super-villain lair. It had been a cavernous room once but now it had a huge metal box in the middle and a bunch of benches up against the exterior walls.

“Who have you brought me today?” said a booming voice. The person who owned the voice was surely a Dwarf. They were a head shorter than me with ruddy skin and a magnificent red handlebar moustache that grew into their equally magnificent sideburns. Their hair was long, red and braided. They wore a white garment that reminded me of a lab coat and that barely contained bosoms as magnificent as their facial hair.

“This is Barney,” said Nurse Trudy, “We’ve been trying to keep him cool on the ward but he needs a bit of extra cooling. I wondered if you had space for him in the Cryo Room?”

“Of course I have,” said the Dwarf. They sounded jovial but their face betrayed them. Their forehead was creased with worry and they looked like they might cry at any second. “Just let me get my gear on and we’ll get you inside, my boy.”

The Dwarf struggled into a heavy fur coat and over-boots and then put on huge fur lined mittens. They opened a wide pressure door in the side of the huge metal box, releasing a blast of frigid air, then pushed the bed inside. Moments later they returned, closed the door and handed Trudy the purple gem she’d used to levitate the bed.

“Is he going to be okay?” I said, now that I was fairly sure that Barney couldn’t hear us.

The Dwarf looked down. “Probably not,” they said, seeming to shrink as they struggled out of their protective clothing. “The Cryo Room only has a survival rate of one in four.” The Dwarf went over to a viewing window in the side of the box, staring into it with a look of something close to desperation.

“Which is a miracle,” said Nurse Trudy. “Without the cooling beds Barney and his brother, Tommy, would have been dead more than a week ago. Now Tommy has maybe seven chances in ten and Barney has one in four. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

I joined the Dwarf at the viewing window. There were six beds in the box, in each bed was a child, swaddled in the cooling blankets, with most of the indicator runes showing orange, even in the glacial chill of the Cryo Room.

“So if the probabilities hold, four or five of those children are going to die in spite of everything you’ve done?” I said.

“If the probabilities hold,” said the Dwarf. I felt that knowledge settle into me like a weight in my chest. As it did so I felt something shift in my mind. I didn’t suddenly remember things that I had forgotten but I did feel a growing dread that there were gaps in my memory and things that I remembered but had somehow overlooked.

“I’m an Outlander.” I said. “How can I help?”