the stethoscope, and shoved it beneath a pile of netting—just in case the medik wanted to listen to Nina’s belly.
Matthias handed over the bag. “What are you looking for?” he asked, using his bulk to block the medik’s view of the bottleboat as Kuwei’s body was swapped for the corpse they’d stolen from the morgue the night before. As soon as Sturmhond had gotten Genya out of the church, she’d stopped beneath the bridge to tailor the corpse’s face and raise its body temperature. It was imperative that it not look like it had been dead for too long.
“A sedative,” said the medik.
“Is that safe for a pregnant woman?”
“For me.”
The bottle man shouted a few more coarse words at Rotty—Specht was clearly enjoying himself—and then the fishing boat was past Zentsbridge and sailing along, moving faster now that they’d left the most crowded part of the canal. Matthias could not resist a look back and saw shadows moving behind the stacked wine crates on the bottleboat. There was still more work to be done.
“Where are we going?” said the medik abruptly. “I thought we were headed to the university clinic.”
“Waterway was closed,” Rotty lied.
“Then take us to Ghezendaal hospital and be quick about it.”
That was the idea. The university clinic was closer, but Ghezendaal was smaller, less well staffed, and bound to be overwhelmed by the plague panic, a perfect place to bring a body you didn’t want looked at too closely.
They glided to a halt at the hospital’s dock and the staff assisted Rotty and Nina out of the boat, then helped lift the stretcher out as well. But as soon as they arrived at the hospital’s doors, the nurse on duty there looked at the body on the stretcher and said, “Why would you bring a corpse here?”
“It’s protocol!” said the medik. “I am trying to do my duty.”
“We’re locking down for a plague. We don’t have beds to give to dead men. Take him around the back to the wagon bay. The bodymen can come for him tonight.”
The staff members disappeared around the corner with the stretcher. By tomorrow a stranger’s body would be ashes and the real Kuwei would be free to live his life without constantly looking over his shoulder.
“Well, at least help this woman, she’s about to—” The medik looked around but Nina and Rotty had vanished.
“They already went inside,” said Matthias.
“But—”
The nurse snapped, “Are you going to stand here all day blocking my doorway or come inside and be of help?”
“I … am needed elsewhere,” the medik said, ignoring the nurse’s disbelieving look. “The rudeness of some people,” he sputtered, dusting off his robes as they left the hospital. “I am a scholar of the university.”
Matthias bowed deeply. “I thank you for your attempts to save my charge.”
“Ah, well, yes. Indeed. I was only doing as my oath demands.” The medik looked nervously at the houses and businesses that had already started locking their doors and sealing their shutters. “I really must get to … the clinic.”
“I’m sure all will be most grateful for your care,” Matthias said, certain the medik intended to rush home to his rooms and barricade himself against anyone who so much as sniffled.
“Yes, yes,” said the medik. “Good day and good health.” He hurried off down the narrow street.
Matthias found himself smiling as he jogged in the opposite direction. He would meet the others back at Zentsbridge, where hopefully Kuwei would soon be revived. He would be with Nina again and maybe, maybe they could begin thinking about a future.
“Matthias Helvar!” said a high, querulous voice.
Matthias turned. A boy stood in the middle of the deserted street. The young drüskelle with the ice-white hair who had glared at him so fiercely during the auction. He wore a gray uniform, not the black of a full drüskelle officer. Had he followed Matthias from the church? What had he seen?
The boy couldn’t have been more than fourteen. The hand he held his pistol in was shaking.
“I charge you with treason,” he said, voice breaking, “high treason against Fjerda and your drüskelle brothers.”
Matthias held up his hands. “I am unarmed.”
“You are a traitor to your land and your god.”
“We haven’t met before.”
“You killed my friends. In the raid on the Ice Court.”
“I killed no drüskelle .”
“Your companions did. You’re a murderer. You humiliated Commander Brum.”
“What’s your name?” Matthias asked gently. This boy did not want to hurt anyone.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you new to the order?”
“Six months,” he said, lifting his chin.
“I