Salidyn had never been so furious.

He'd thought he knew fury the first time his parents took his baby sister away to test her for new abilities, and he'd thought he knew it again when he'd run from a burning house that no one had bothered to save him from to find Ridani alone on the beach, crying and injured, all because of a stupid deal that their parents had made before she was born. A stupid deal that had orphaned them both. But all of that paled in comparison to this.

He couldn't remember which room belonged to the woman who'd let— no, encouraged Ridani sign her life away. His brain was still full of fog and things without names as he stumbled down the long hallway lit by flames that made the shadows dance in hypnotising patterns, promising answers if he'd only stop to listen.

"You shouldn't be out of bed."

She was there, the woman, standing right in front of him. How long had she been there? He hadn't even seen her coming towards him.

"What is wrong with you?!" Salidyn snarled, staggering to a stop with one hand braced against the wall. "She's a child! She can't sign anything!"

"I assure you," the woman said, eyeing him coolly, "that she most certainly can. And did."

"Then tear it up! It's— I'm her guardian, and I say no!"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid it's too late for that. Our healers are the only reason you're up and walking around right now at all."

"Then…then give it to me." Salidyn's desperation felt like a physical thing curling around his throat. "Put it in my name."

"We can do that," the woman said smoothly, but before Salidyn had a chance to feel relieved, she added, "however, since you are sick— and with something very peculiar, I might add— you will have to find someone willing to be your guarantor." Her eyes glittered. "I suspect your options are limited."

The desperation had his throat in a vise-grip, and Salidyn found himself struggling to breathe. His heart pounded against his ribs, and he leaned harder on the wall, trying to regain some sense of equilibrium as the hallway spun around him. He'd doomed her. He'd trapped her even more thoroughly than their parents. She was never going to be able to leave and it was all his fault.

The woman was talking. How long had she been talking for? Salidyn tried to listen, tried to breathe, but it felt like his chest was being crushed. He was sitting on the ground. The woman was standing over him, still talking, but she sounded like she was underwater. He was dying, he realised. He felt a surge of relief at the thought— at least Ridani would only have to pay for herself now— but that was quickly overcome by fear. He didn't want to die. He'd only just escaped his parents. Ridani would be alone. He'd be alone—

"Breathe."

The woman's voice finally penetrated the haze of panic. He tried to take a breath, fighting against his constricting ribcage, against the suffocating weight of dread. The woman laid a hand on his forehead, and he felt his chest loosen somewhat. He gulped in air. Let it out. Took another breath. Slowly, the racing of his heart slowed. He realised he was shaking, his tunic soaked in sweat.

The woman— she had to be a cleric— stood. Her face was still impassive, but he thought he saw a touch of pity in her pale gaze. He bristled.

"You can't change anything. Go back to bed," was all she said, before turning on her heel and striding away.

Salidyn pressed his sweaty palms to the warm stone floor, glowering down the hallway in the direction the woman had gone. It took him nearly a full minute to force himself to his feet, but he managed it. Dark shapes danced at the edges of his vision, something more than just shadows created by the torchlight. He ignored it.

"Salidyn?"

Ridani was running down the hallway towards him.

"Ridani! I told you to stay in the room!" The snap in his voice stopped her in her tracks. She stared at him, her expression equal parts concern and hurt. Regret flooded through him.

"Sorry. I'm tired." The shadows were trying to talk to him. He shook his head, attempting to dislodge words he could almost understand. "It's just…why did you sign that paper? The one the woman gave you?"

His sister looked puzzled. "To help you."

Salidyn stifled a groan of frustration. She was too young for this. How was he supposed to even begin to explain any of this to a seven-year-old? "If they try to get you to sign your name on anything else, come show me first, okay?"

"What if you're asleep?"

He sighed. "Wait for me to wake up."

"What if they need it right away?"

"Then wake me up. I don't know." Salidyn's whole body hurt. He leaned his forehead against the wall— which didn't help, because the stones here were warm all the time. "Just don't fu— don't sign anything. I'm serious."

"Okay." Ridani stared up at his face. "Are you okay?"

No. "Yeah. Just…not feeling well."

When Ridani turned as if to go for help, he added hastily, "I can walk," and she nodded and took his hand instead.

This was mostly true. Each step felt like reality was catching at his skin, his sister's hand in his and the ever-warm stone wall under his other hand the only things grounding him. He fell rather than climbed into bed, and felt rather than saw Ridani drape a blanket over him. He was still shivering. Ridani was piling more blankets on him. She might have even been talking, but he could feel his own thoughts fragmenting and couldn't make sense of her words.

It was only as he was lying there beneath a heap of blankets, his mind unwinding around him that he realised whatever the cleric did in the hallway to help calm him down was probably going on Ridani's bill.

Fuck.