"We'd end up captured, back in these cells without our comforts, and one or two of us roasted on a spit for our troubles," Glain broke in. "Jess is right. Take our time. Note the obvious. Look harder."
Dario sighed. "I like the obvious. It's easier."
Khalila was still drawing. She colored two last squares in solid black. Jess leaned forward. Both were close to the wall, one at the far eastern end, one at the far western. They mirrored each other. "And these?" he asked.
"I don't know. But something. They were marked with red on his map."
Glain said, "The western one is a barracks room. I haven't managed to scout the eastern one yet. It's at the end of the fields behind city hall. Too exposed. It looks like it could be a barn, though I've seen few enough farm animals. Possibly some kind of storage."
"Don't risk it when they're too alert," Thomas said, and Glain glanced at him and gave him a smile that was only half-mocking.
"Do you think I'm afraid of risk, Thomas? Have you met me?"
"If you want the guards distracted, I can help with that," Morgan said. Jess didn't know what she meant until she brushed fingers over the back of his hand, and he felt a wave of weariness break over him. It didn't feel unnatural, just the accumulation of days and weeks of the terror and stress they'd been under, and before he could stop himself, he felt a yawn coming on. He clenched his jaw and suppressed it, and sent her a disbelieving look. She gave him a sweetly crooked smile. "We're all tired. Even the guards. Hardly takes more than a brush of fingers to make them less alert. Glain, let me know when you need the distraction." She brushed fingers over his skin again, and he felt the weariness lift like a cloud blowing away.
He felt chilled by it, not heartened. Is she getting stronger? Askuwheteau's warning, Wolfe's predictions . . . none of it felt good. "Morgan," he said, and took her hand. Skin to skin. He didn't think she was using any of her quintessence on him now, but if she was, he wasn't certain he'd be able to tell. He bent his head closer to hers and whispered, "You need to be careful. Slow down."
She pulled back in surprise, and her eyes found his. She didn't ask what he meant, and he supposed she already knew. "Would you?" she asked him. "If you knew you could help? I know you, Jess. You'd run until your heart burst in your chest if you felt it would save the rest of us. How can you ask me to do less?"
"Because-" He wanted to say something, but this wasn't the time. Wasn't the place. "Because we'll need all your skill at some point. Don't waste it on small things. Promise me."
///
Her jaw set in a way he was coming to know well, a look he was certain her tutors in the Iron Tower had learned to their regret.
Khalila blew gently on the map to dry it, and then carefully rolled it up and looked around. "Jess," she said. "Where can I hide it . . . ?"
He went into his cell and took a small piece of metal from his pocket. It was about the size of a coin, with filed protrusions on all sides; he'd spent half an hour crafting it in the workshop, between making wooden models of gears. It was the sort of concealable tool that all smugglers and thieves used, and he plied it to loosen the screws of his bed and slip one of the rails loose. It was hollow. He put the map inside and screwed it together again.
"Why do you get to guard it, scrubber?" Dario asked, frowning. "Who made you Archivist?"
"If it's discovered, he will be the one blamed," Thomas said. "He's protecting you. And all of us."
"No," Jess said. "I'm just the one with the clever little screwdriver." But Thomas was, of course, correct. Jess was the one with the precious Brightwell immunity. Best any trouble fall on him, because Glain was right: Burners would be looking for an excuse to call them traitors, and make examples.
At least he had a better chance of staying alive, in that case.
"So what now?" Morgan asked.
"You should rest," Jess said, but she shook her head.
"I only wanted to see that you're all right. I'm going back to the doctor's house to stay with Wolfe and Santi."
"I'll walk with you," Jess said. "The more they see us doing normal, unremarkable things, like visiting our sick comrade, the better our chances of doing something remarkable later. We should all go."
He wanted to see Santi for himself, and he wanted to be sure Morgan arrived safely back at Askuwheteau's house.