One hour and a great deal of promenia later, Aix's new alumna was out of danger and resting peacefully in true slumber instead of a fevered delirium.

He straightened from their bedside, back popping in protest, and nodded at the five youths seated on the floor along the far wall. "Questions, young lifeholders?" he asked.

Cithara, his oldest alumna from the Garden Group, frowned. "Shouldn't we go to another room to talk, Aedificanti? They need to rest undisturbed, right?"

Aix smiled. "You have an instinct for patient needs," he praised. "However, I have placed our young friend here in a deep healing sleep. They will not rouse even if we invite the entire Regum Chorici  to rehearse in this bedchamber." He patted his sleeping alumna's hand--as promised, Radix did not stir--then glanced back at his other students, lifting his brows.

The children glanced at each other. Cithara offered an encouraging nod to Bacca, the Princeps Lifeholder's granddaughter. The girl darted to her feet in eagerness, folding her hands behind her back and rocking on her heels. "Aedilis, why did you use so much promenia?" she asked.

"That is a good question," Aix said. The girl beamed and sat back down. "Does anyone know the answer?"

Bacca's older brother shoved his hand in the air, eager as always to compete with his sister.

"Yes, Messio?" Aix encouraged. He pulled the coverlet up to Radix's shoulders.

"The patient's body can't fight off illnesses the way a Lightholder's can. So you needed to use more promenia to make up for what their immune system cannot handle by itself."

"Very good," Aix praised. As a precaution, he passed another wave of promenia through Radix, seeking lingering traces of the illness he'd just purged; the virus, smaller than promenia, could sometimes escape notice. It liked to lurk within cells, sometimes shedding its protein coating and hiding within the body's hereditary mechanisms.

The students dutifully observed, their promenia trailing his own like ducklings.

"Why is a Pyrrhaeus not able to fight off illnesses as we do?" Vitis, an Empowered from the Princeps Forgeholder's Epulae Factorum curia, asked.

"Because--" Messio began, breaking off as Aix held up a hand.

"Let's allow others to have a chance," he said as he withdrew his promenia from the dark dampness of Radix's lungs and, having seen no trace of the virus that had sickened them, released the particles back to their unkeyed state. The bedchamber hummed with the silent golden hymn of pure possibility as the young lifeholders did likewise. "Does anyone else have an idea?"

The Empowered nonbinary youth from the Rex's Curia Regis flung an arm into the air, their angular face full of exaggerated boredom.

Aix sighed. "Yes, Vinealis?"

Their lip curled. "The Pyrrhaei can't fight off illnesses like we can because they can't do anything as we can. They're Pyrrhaeus. Worse than Lightless. Worse than sub-Lightless. Inferior. Defective."

Aix restrained the urge to scowl. Vinealis was likely just parroting something they'd heard their elders say, but Aix would give no space to such bigotry in his classroom. He met the youth's brown eyes with his steel-gray gaze. "You will not say that again," he said firmly, ignoring the child's dropping jaw. The youth had likely not been spoken to in such a manner before. Aedilis Nubila had been quite low ranking compared to her pupils; Aix was not.

He turned aside and allowed the shocked child space to process their chastisement, nodding instead for Bacca to speak as the youth once again darted to her feet.

"The patient grew so ill because they are Pyrrhaei," the Princeps Lifeholder's granddaughter said. "Like Lightless and sub-Lightless Promethidae, Pyrrhaei do not possess prometus. They do have immune systems, just as we Lightholders do, but without prometus their immune responses against some illnesses are ineffective. If the patient was Empowered or Trueborn, they'd likely just suffer a mild ague. But without a Lightholder's prometus, their body was swiftly overcome by the virus and succumbed to pneumonia."

"Very good, young Promerenti," Aix said. "A fine answer to some very good questions." He held up a hand. "But does anyone know the most important question for you to ask? The most vital answer for you to seek?"

Cithara frowned. "Do you mean the patient's history?" She glanced at the other students. "He's always going on about how important it is for a physician to get a thorough history. Onset, allergies, prior conditions, those kinds of things"

Aix chuckled. She was right; he was oft drilling his students about such and it was a pleasure to see that one of his alumnas remembered. "These are good questions for any physician to ask," he affirmed. "But recall that you are lifeholders, not just physicians. You likely will one day have responsibility for the public health of several communities. And so, does anyone know the most important question for a lifeholder to ask?"

The children glanced at each other. Bacca shrugged at Messio's arched brows. Even Vinealis roused from his sulk enough to look intrigued.

When none answered, Aix held up one finger. "The most important questions for a lifeholder of your station to ask at a time like this is where did the illness come from and where else has it spread? And that, young people, is why I must conclude our lesson early. I must visit the royal wing to seek some answers, and you cannot join me. Class dismissed."

<>

"I can't believe we're letting him do this," Cercitis murmured.

Astricus squinted at his wife's lips, struggling to make out the lifeholder's words over the howling subterranean wind. The Quintus Conatus forgeholders overseeing their basecamp had rigged up a promenia-powered gale mill here in the ice cave to repel any rogue promenia that might penetrate this far underground. A matching mill performed the same function on the tundra's surface. The frozen wind tunnel was almost deafening but far better than the sound of cracking or falling ice if the dangerous particles managed to bypass the surface protections and drift this far down unhindered to rip the cave apart.

"Me neither," Astricus said after a moment of puzzling out her words. He wrapped an arm around his wife's slender shoulders, the way he knew she wanted to hold the slight boy talking calmly with a group of other Silvula Salutis alumnas a few feet away. He felt the same desire. But neither of them could hold their foster child in this dangerous place. Not here, where no one knew about their connection to "Domi" or could be allowed to suspect the boy was anything other than an abandoned child reared among Pullati.

"It's not your fault," Lumen, Dae's new Trellis expert said. He smoothed his fur-lined clivia blues, awkward in the heavy Germinating garments. Astricus and Cercitis at least had prior experience in the field; this was the Trellis expert's first venture outside a palace or domus. No wonder he looked out of place, but he had insisted on coming, both to assist Daedalus as well as to lend his expertise. "You tried to dissuade him," the man went on, full lips touched with blue. He needed to adjust his prometus for the cold or he'd soon be shivering like the Pullati workers. "I tried. Even Praetor Cerasus tried. But his--" He broke off, catching himself at Astricus's warning glare. "--But the Princeps Worldholder approved this foolishness."

Astricus sighed. "Even if the Princeps forbade him, he'd still be here. Probably curled up in someone's luggage or hiding in a supply cart." He snorted under his breath, remembering the time the boy had hidden for three hours to avoid a dancing lesson at the age of seven. He managed to elude an entire centuria of panicked Electi before they finally found him practicing his breathing inside a wardrobe, serene even in his defiance.

Daedalus was usually an obedient, dutiful child, but in the rare times he insisted on his way, it was hard to deny him.

And so here they were, in the night-side, in the Blightlands, deep beneath the earth to shelter from clivias, frigid temperatures, and roiling clouds of golden rogue promenia. The bioluminescent ice cave where they were gathered was large enough to comfortably house a camp of maybe one hundred people and had been used by the nomadic Quintus Conatus curia for generations. Instead, two hundred and fifty people were crammed down here together in the eerie blue and violet illumination emitted by the tiny worm-like ice bestias tunneling through the cave walls. Nightsiders. Daysiders. Even a half-trained Pullati work crew.

Astricus watched anxiously as his foster son's aedificans said something to Daedalus and the other worldholder alumnas, pointing first to Dae's lips--blue--and then gesturing at all the children until the alumnas nodded.

Cautiously, Astricus summoned promenia and slipped halfway into the Caeles, nudging the boy.

Daedalus flicked him a glance but answered immediately, his mindvoice in the Caeles sounding like he was standing right next to Astricus instead of across the cave. "Yes, Altor?"

"You're too cold. Adjust your prometus," Astricus said, careful not to move his lips as he projected his mindvoice within the Caeles.

Daedalus shook his head. "I am well, do not worry. I am just now feeling the need to modify my body temperature."

Astricus frowned. That was strange; he'd needed to adjust his own prometus three times already for comfort. And the poor Pullati gathered with them looked miserable.  They'd been given clivia garments, the heavy Germinating tunicas and paenulas lined within by promenia to help make the clothing even warmer, but Lightholders had to rely on their prometus for extra warmth.

"Well," he said, "keep an eye on it." He paused as the gray Caeles mists rippled. Wavered. Grimacing, he waited for them to settle anew. The Quintus Conatus worldholders had built a precarious Trellis isle high in the night-side sky. But it was still under construction and with all the rogue promenia around, they would have to rebuild it before First Glare. "Our bodies need a little extra help thermoregulating out here," he added when the Caeles stabilized.

"I know," Daedalus reassured him with a small smile even as the boy pretended to study the glowing ice wall, which glimmered like quartz crystal fused with sapphires and amethysts. "Aedilis Serenitas said the same thing and told us to watch over each other and the Pullati. I shall be fine."

"Alright," Astricus said and dissipated the Caeles with a sigh. His nerves could not be so easily dispelled. Eternal Radiance, he hated this.

"Alright, listen carefully," their crew leader, a Quintus Conatus worldholder wrapped in swathes of deep blue and snow-white clivia like a nonbinary person said. Nightdwellers had their peculiar ways. Her promenia-amplified voice rose above fifty night-side technicians and the howling gale securing the Corridor. "We will proceed through the ice cave in rank order. Aediles at the front. Then other adult Lightholders. Then alumnas. And Pullati at the back. You will obey those before you and protect those behind you."

"Serenitas won't be with Dae-Domi?" Cercitis gasped, but her voice was too soft for the crew leader to hear over the subterranean wind.

"We will not be clearing all rogue promenia from the area today," the crew leader continued. "Just widening the safe path to the ruins. Remain alert, do your duty, and we will reach Eiulatus Vorago by First Glare."

Astricus shivered. First Glare, not Dimming. There would be no Dimming here once they left the protection of the Trellis isle. Just perpetual darkness divided artificially by clocks and the rhythms of their confused bodies until First Glare, the daily appearance of the smallest of the Devouring Eyes.

"Let's go," the crew leader commanded and led the way toward the surface, away from the camp and safety.

<>

Domi glanced at the window, grimaced at the glaring light that only made his headache worse, and sneezed.

"That's the third time in an hour," Valens grumbled, putting down the thumb-sized chunk of crystal Domi had tried shoving a keyed promenia particle into.

"I'm fine," Domi grumbled.

"I'm fine," Valens mocked, with an exaggerated sniffle followed by a snort.

Domi's eyes narrowed. He didn't sound that gross. "It's just allergies."

"This is a weird thing to lie about, Alumna," his aedificans said, shaking his head. He reached out a hand. "Just let me see."

Domi shrank back, glaring. "I'm fine." He wasn't. He felt worse every minute, his body heating uncomfortably. "Peritia said to expect it. Dae has to adjust his prometus to fight the cold out there."

"Still, you shouldn't be sweating. And you look pale. Just--" Domi shifted back away from Valens's outstretched hand again and golden eyes narrowed. "Fine."

For an instant, Domi felt relieved. The obnoxious man was giving up. He didn't need to have every lifeholder in the palace descend upon him like crows.

Then Valens held up a hand and Domi felt an uncanny tugging in his veins as he tried to lean back on the breathing rug. His body refused to move, face and chest feeling glued to an invisible wall as something seemed to press up against his skin from the inside, holding him fast. He shuddered in revulsion at the sensation and glared at Valens as the man slapped a hand to his forehead whether he wanted it or not.

A haze of black glitter drifted around him, seeping from his skin like smoke.

"What did you do to me?" Domi grumbled, blinking under the pleasantly cool palm as his face heated in embarrassment. Caught. "I outrank you."

His aedificans's lip curled as the man dropped his hand. "You're registered as my alumna again. I can draw your prometus for examination." He shook his head. "You have a fever. Why are you being an idiot?"

"A better question," a new voice cut in, "is where he caught this bout of idiocy." Aix stepped into the bedchamber. "Given that he is undertaking the rite of Solitude and shouldn't be near enough to anyone to fall ill."

Domi felt heat rush into his face that had nothing to do with a fever and everything to do with when, how, and with whom he had caught it. "I, ah..."

Valens flicked a glance at the window and rolled his eyes as the Trellis flared brilliant green in response to the memories winding their way through Domi's mind whether the boy wanted to think about the kisses right now or not. "I have a good idea," his aedificans grumbled and shook his head at his alumna. "Sidus? Or Radix?"

Domi smiled sheepishly. "Both."