Chapter 16. Smoke in the Veins

The orphanage hearth guttered down to glowing embers by the time the sickness found her. The room’s corners lay shadowed and cold, only a faint orange haze clinging to the soot-blackened rafters. Aeryn had slipped between damp blankets, her limbs chilled, her breathing steady—until the heat ripped through her chest like a brand suddenly ignited. It was no ordinary fever. It did not come on with a shudder or a cough but with a pressure so intense it felt as though molten iron pooled behind her ribs, seeking escape.

She woke drenched in sweat; the sheets beneath her clammy with damp. Her pulse thundered in her throat, a frantic drumbeat echoing through bone. She tried to draw a deep breath, but each inhale rasped like hot breath between parched lips. The low murmur of the other girls—soft snores, the creak of bedsprings—did nothing to steady her. As she pushed herself upright, the dormitory walls refused to settle into focus. They spun, a carousel of indistinct shapes and drifti