Nathan hadn't been asleep when he noticed the sound of clacking wood echoing through the streets. Gee dozed next to him, her forehead pushed against his thigh as she bundled herself tighter in their moth-eaten blankets, Nathan sitting against the wall and studying the dark for danger. Horace's words played over and over again in his mind, and despite the exhausted ache in his bones, sleep wouldn't find him. They usually slept in shifts, crouched behind the wooden stage and sometimes, blissfully hidden inside the wooden shack beside it. Tonight was not one of those times, and Nathan wasn't going to wake her. He couldn't stand leaving his dancer so exposed when the target was focusing in on his back.

That meant, when he heard approaching clicking, he reached for his knife by his other thigh, shifting the blankets over Gee's face as she slept. His mind buzzed in quick guesses, and despite the familiar noise of his cane, Nathan couldn't help but imagine it was a Brother here for a show of loyalty. Nathan freed himself from Gee's side as Brady appeared twenty feet off, the visage of his face half eaten by scars doing little to comfort his nerves.

"What are you doing here?" the thief asked, and Brady jumped, his head flicking to him in the darkness. His feet had been silent on the cobblestones.

"Getting scared to death, obviously. Did I wake you up?"

"Yes. What are you doing here?" Brady leaned heavily on his cane, and Nathan found the weary lines cutting up his face, thin body shivering from more than the cold. Nathan imagined he looked just as miserable, but he tried to mask it with disdain for the loud sorcerer.

"I have a very bad feeling . . ."

He took some convincing, but Nathan agreed to the plan for Gee's sake – Brady didn't seem to have a quiet mode, and he could see her stirring from the sound of his voice. Besides, a part of him wanted to humor Brady's bad feeling, the same part of him that thought to learn alternative routes through a noble's house for an easy job. It was better being safe than sorry – that was how they ended up inside the cadet camp, listening to thick thuds and dark lessons muffled through heavy canvas. Nathan couldn't make out words, just that someone was talking, when a scream pierced the air. Brady lunged out of their hiding spot, but Nathan grabbed him by the arm and hauled him back to his side. He shook his head silently, and a second later, they heard heavy boots churning dirt and marching away from the tent.

Nathan took his knife and cut the canvas in one quick motion, Brady slipping under his arms. He was beside Matt in an instant, his hands finding the wound at his side. Matt glanced between them in a dazed panic.

"How–"

"No time, big guy. Up," Brady commanded, although Nathan was the one that pulled the cadet to his feet and slipped his arm around his shoulder. His weight was enormous, especially compared to Nathan's, but the one consolation was they were nearly the same height.

Brady took off his dusty blue cloak and shoved it into Matt's side as they walked, his hand twirling in the air and blood evaporating from the ground. Nathan was almost grateful he'd been convinced to bring him along, watching his attention shift to the tent as it stitched itself together. In a few minutes, there would be no trail and no hint of where the maimed cadet had gone to. That might give them a few hours to get out of town before the manhunt begun. Nathan wasn't sure why Matt was bleeding out on his hip, or why a commander had taken him out of bed so early in the morning to beat him, so he didn't make any predictions on what Matt's superiors would do when they found him. So far, they had tried to kill him, and that was enough evidence for Nathan to insert himself.

Matt was doing an expert job at keeping his grunts of pain to a minimum as they limped through camp, to the point that Nathan glanced at him frequently to make sure he was still conscious. Each time, he found the same determined strength set into his eyes that Nathan had seen in the library, when he'd been devoted to this place. Possibly, his devotion had shifted.

The cadet camp was built beside the edge of town, so it was easy to limp the injured cadet from the front gate to cover behind nearby hovels, protecting themselves from a quick glance from the training grounds. Nathan would've liked to get further away, except he noticed he was listing to one side as Matt's legs stopped supporting his weight. It took all his meager strength to keep Matt's head from smacking the ground as they fell.

Brady rounded the corner, flicking away blood from the dirt and freezing at the sight of Nathan over Matt's pale body. His entire pant leg was red, Brady's blue cloak a poor excuse of a bandage, and his chest rose and fell in short bursts. If he'd spent any less time with a living skeleton the past week, Brady would've been alarmed to see how deathly he looked.

Instead, he ran to his side and slid to his knees, cane disappearing in an instant and his hands moving away the cloak and Matt's torn shirt. He took a deep breath before positioning his hands in the air, grimacing and drawing them slowly away from the cadet.

Matt let out a strangled cry, his back arching in pain as Nathan watched the hole in his side reform, just like he'd witnessed in the cut tent.

"You can heal?" Nathan asked in astonishment. He didn't know a lot about magic, but he knew healing was a whole science unto itself. If every third peasant on the street could sew up his buddy, that damned hospital wouldn't be so prosperous, and maybe more faces from Nathan's childhood would still be around.

Brady chuckled darkly at his side, sweat pouring down his temples. "Nope! Just stopping anymore blood from coming out. We need George."

"Will Adam do?" Nathan asked, rising to his feet and glancing back the way they came for signs of life inside the camp on the hill. The nobles didn't live too far apart, but the Hesler estate was closer, and he didn't want to take any second too long. Matt had quieted, but he didn't look any stronger than before, face twisted into a grimace.

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Brady nodded and Nathan shot off through the alleys, his legs in a rage that he continued to demand energy from them, but still reliable as he snaked towards uptown. Just yesterday, he thought, I was sneaking into the Nattien manor. Now I'm going to knock politely on the Hesler's.

Which is not to say he didn't sneak into Adam's house as well. This early in the morning, and looking as homeless as he was, Nathan knew not to trust a disgruntled servant to deliver a message to the family. That's why he hid nearby after he knocked, crouched behind the stairs to the front door with a ball bearing in his hand. He threw it hard against the statue by the road as the front doors opened, hearing it ping off the stone and slipping behind the curious servant who crept forward to see what had happened.

In half a minute, Nathan was pushing through double doors he knew to be Adam's in the dark, his movement silent except for the click of the door back into place.

"Adam," he hissed, creeping in. The sun was beginning to color the sky light blue, but the drapes were drawn, and the room was nearly pitch black. "Adam! Wake up, you rich snob." His hands found a table and candlestick as his eyes adjusted to what little light there was, and he could vaguely see a pale shape ahead of him. The noble was the whitest thing he'd ever seen before, so he could guess what that shape was. He watched it stir in bed as he hissed again. Suddenly, lanterns all through the room lit themselves dimly, and Nathan sucked in a startled breath.

Adam instantly willed the lights to burn brighter, despite his protesting eyes. He was beginning to form questions when he noted the blood on Nathan's hands, his harried state, and the look of haste in his eyes. Soon, he was cramming himself into boots and slipping on the first coat he could find as Nathan led him back the way he'd come.

"Master Hesler!" someone said, and the boys turned to face the same servant Nathan had slipped behind. They ran past him as Adam shouted orders over his shoulder.

"You're not to tell my family I left! I'll only be at the hospital, it's an emergency. I'll be back by breakfast!" And they were out the doors.

~'~'~

Brady set himself up under Matt's head, stroking bloody fingers through his short-cropped hair in the only comforting motion he knew. He'd been watching Matt fight off unconsciousness for the past several minutes, running his mouth so there was something to focus on besides for the crawling pace of seconds. Each time he watched Matt's eyes flutter shut, his breathing beginning to slow, Brady would shock him softly and the cadet would wake up. He wove apologies into his constant stream of words easily, but it didn't help him feel better. One second, you're telling someone you trust him more than anything, Brady thought to himself, and the next you're zapping him every ten seconds. Then he changed his mind and said it aloud.

When Adam and Nathan finally reappeared, Brady didn't have the energy to laugh at Adam's attire. He was basically in pajamas, and his long dark coat barely made up for it, except he could've been in a rainbow dress and Brady wouldn't have noticed right away. Instead, he watched the necromancer crouch beside the cadet and fought away terror. He had barely seen Adam use his magic, but he'd talked about his family lineage a lot, and Brady didn't have the strength to ignore the images that sprung to mind. Zombies rising from graves, skin sucking to bone as lives withered away, dark clouds blotting out the sun; all these images flooded his mind as the dark noble set his hands in the air.

Brady had been hoping the display of his magic would assuage the fear, but instead he bit back a yelp as dark, greenish smoke formed at his fingertips. Adam's concentration was hypnotic, but Brady wanted to break it as he placed his hands on Matt's side and the cadet squirmed. He was about to say something when he felt Nathan's hand on his shoulder. The thief just shook his head silently.

In a few moments, Matt's cringing turned to relaxation as his skin began to recolor, a deep sun kissed tan that Brady hadn't realized he'd missed until it returned. This time, Brady didn't zap him awake as he watched his breaths level out, and Matt dozed fitfully in his lap. Brady steadied his trembling fingers by brushing them through Matt's hair, watching Adam carefully as he sat back on his heels, his focus blowing away in the wind.

"What happened?" he asked, his eyes lingering on Brady. Nathan answered as the sorcerer refused to open his mouth.

"Brady had a bad feeling, so we snuck into camp to make sure nothing bad was happening. Instead, we saw Matt get pushed around, beat up, and stabbed by a commander." Adam's face contorted in worry, and he lifted Matt's shirt as Nathan finished. Sure enough, the three of them spied green bruises over his ribs.

"I'm going to leave those for George," the noble admitted, laying down his shirt and standing up. "I'm not as good of a healer as him."

"I told you we should've gotten George," Brady joked, but his voice was raspy and quiet. Nathan and Adam shared a glance.

"He was too far away. Besides, Adam got the job done, didn't he?" Brady grunted affirmation, but he didn't look up at the two boys standing beside him. "Should we take him there now?"

Adam shook his head, lightly touching Brady's shoulder. "Brady has a room rented uptown. Let's let him rest there, and we can gather everyone while he sleeps. I'll send for George as soon as I get back." Brady moved back at his touch as Adam crouched down to stir the cadet and he and Nathan carried him through town together. It was easier with two, but Nathan felt a small bit of pride at watching the noble struggle like he did. Brady gathered up his bloody cloak and studied the blood stain on the ground, but it was too much blood for him to simply will away. They would have to leave their mark here. All the help he could provide was walking himself behind the bigger boys, limping but denying himself his cane. He studied Adam's hand on Matt's back and reminded himself of the skin he'd held in his own hands many times.

As soon as they reached the door to his inn, Nathan excused himself to go find Gee. Brady seemed to blink and he was gone, slinking into shadows, but Brady's vision wasn't the best anyway. He opened doors on Adam's path until they laid Matt down in his bed, groaning but definitely alive. It was a good start. As Adam helped the cadet out of his bloody clothes, Brady ran water in the sink and dunked them, but his eyes kept straying to Matt's bruises. His chest was covered in them, his shoulders were purple, and his legs spotted marks like he'd caught some sort of disease. He felt hatred bubble in his gut for the man who did that to his friend.

"It looks like you're trying to set me on fire with your eyes," Matt huffed, but he smiled softly as Brady looked at his face.

"Not you."

"Kain doesn't hold back." Adam rose quickly before Brady got a chance to explode at that response.

"You need to rest, doctor-adjacent's orders. I'm going to wake George, get our stuff together, maybe put on real clothes. I suppose if we're not back in a few hours, assume we've been stabbed by our fathers or something." Matt huffed out a laugh, holding his ribs, but Brady stayed silent by the sink and scrubbed his nails over Matt's clothes. The noble left without another word to him.

"I'm sorry I got stabbed," Matt mumbled after a few minutes in silence, and Brady glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He was laying down, under the covers, with his eyes closed in a grimace. "I don't think this was in our plans."

"If you apologize for stupid things, they're going to start finding you," Brady spouted quickly, remembering an old adage from his home. The memory made him smile.

"My mother used to say something like that," the cadet said, softly. Brady realized he was falling asleep again. "'You attract bad things by thinking you deserve them'. I didn't like that saying very much."