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The deep of winter came without warning; a storm blew over one night and left the morning to deal with its aftermath. When Isla had looked down her frosted window, she could not even see their landlord's door. For days the street-cleaners worked, shovelling away until a sleet-covered road peeked between mounds of snow. So the city slept.

While Noi longed to be back out in the world, it was times as these Isla did not mind being housebound. Not that she had a choice, with her injury.

She stroke the salamander whom had taken its usual place on her lap. Often, the element was the only thing that could help. The slightest draft of cold air would assault her wound with the prick of a thousand needles. Nights were crueller; even with her window shut now that Whitebill had gone. The salamander would lay under her shift and burn as she slept.

Now and again, she would wake to Haana by her bed. Before she could ask, the girl would drape another layer of sheets over her and return to her pallet.

Funny how the tables have turned. Now she was the invalid and Haana the caretaker. Though not so amusing in the dark of night.

Waking up to Haana's shadow would bring her frenzied mind right back to that alley, and her hand would search for the blade under her pillow before her salamander chased the shadows away with a burst of firelight.

'Will it be all right on your own?' Noi's voice interrupted Isla from her thoughts. The handmaid was peering out the window, where no doubt she would see that the worst of winter had been cleared. 'I am thinking today we open. I will take Haana for her first day.'

Isla nodded absently. Beside her, the fire cackled.

'We will not be long.'

'It's fine, Noi. My parents didn't mind leaving me alone.'

'Mind your tongue. They did not die on purpose.'

'They did leave me in that carriage on purpose.'

'That is what you think?' Her handmaid snatched her cloak so roughly, they heard a tear. 'They left you with me alone, because I am so useless I only can conceal one other person beside myself.'

'Noi –'

'They thought I was their best chance of keeping you safe. I cannot even keep you at home!'

'Noi! You make a fine warden! I'm sorry I mentioned it.' Isla sighed. Looks like being confined indoors for so long isn't doing anyone good. 'Take your time. Enjoy your day out. Haana would delight in the snow. We never had any in Surikhand.'

'Thank the deities for that.' Noi raised the sleeves to inspect its damage.

'I can mend that for you tonight.'

'With your condition? I think not.'

'I don't stitch with my feet, Noi.'

'I will stop by the seamstress on our way home.'

Isla's response was drowned by a thundering of footsteps. Haana came racing from the bedchamber, blood streaming between her fingers where she held it over her face. 'What is happening to me?' Her voice was thick with the sound of nasal congestion.

'It is a nosebleed,' said Noi, fishing out a cloth from her pocket, 'and it should stop if you hold this to your face like so.'

'A nosebleed?' Haana snatched the cloth and did as instructed. 'But I have not been struck!'

'Winter strikes as hard as any man.'

'Here.' Isla took her furs and draped it over Haana's shoulders. 'You need to warm yourself. It will not do to walk in thin garbs – even indoors.

'How do you survive this year after year?'

'I might not, with this hip.' Isla limped back to her seat. 'Hot water and steam will ease it a little. I shall go to the bath house today.'

Noi's lips stretched to a thin line. 'They charge enoughto purchase provisions worth two whole turns of the week!'

Isla shrugged. Only a few swan remained in the pouch under her bed; she had meant to keep them for the book at Scholar's Way, but not all the volumes in Aldir's library could numb the aching in her hip.

Noi grumbled the length of her morning preparations, but Isla had long learned to shut off the noise. Noi's idea of a good wash was a wet cloth and a bucket of lukewarm water, which they could take in the small wash room they shared with the Hirdii couple downstairs. 'If you must really go, at least wait until noon bells.'

'As you say, Noi.' The streets would be busy, then, and there was always safety in numbers.

Noi left her with a few more warnings, Haana reluctantly trudging behind under four layers of clothes. Isla sighed in relief, her back protesting as she staggered towards the kitchen cabinets.

Noi's whiskey. Noon was several hours away, and she had to cope with her pain one way or another. May as well. The tea already tastes like sewage.

Isla was swaying by the time the noon bells struck. She made her way to the bath house, hardly maintaining a grip on the basket containing her wash cloths. The footpath rolled ahead in pairs.

What a sight for Sir Edric's men. She wondered whom amongst the amblers around her could be their provisional guard. There was a man standing by the corner, the bulk of his shoulders clear and shapely even beneath his cloak. Isla liked the look of that one.

He smiled as she walked by; or he was simply returning hers. Isla could not think straight, and she was sure she was giggling like a fool. If she collapsed now, would Sir Edric's men carry her home? Surely they were expecting to take care of assassins – not a drunken girl. That should give the neighbours something to talk about.

Thankfully the bath house was not far. It was set into three row houses accommodating two large pools; one for women, the other for men, and a reception house in the middle to separate the two. In this area did Master Galen take Isla's payment before waving her to a door on the left.

An updraft of steam greeted Isla the moment she stepped inside. The pool was set in its centre, walled in by large pebbles and a porous wooden walk board. The water gave off the slightest smell of sulphur – doubtless a by-product of the ifrit that kept it heated – and a thick, white cloud hovered above its surface before vanishing into fine tendrils that curled towards the high ceiling.

Three women were unwinding in one end of the pool, but for them it was empty. Isla tiptoed towards the edge of the water farthest from them, conscious of the monstrosity on her belly as she shed off her garments and underclothes.

It was pleasantly hot when she lowered herself, and even though the cloud was not so thick once she was inside, it masked her nakedness well.

Still the women's eyes were upon her, their whispers rising above the hiss of steam. She sunk into the depths until the water took her whole and all she could hear was the drumming of blood in her ears.

When she came back for air, the women had gone.

And good riddance. Isla launched herself off the poolside, floating farther into the deep. The water cleared her head, its heat tickled her wound. This is what life should be about. A hot bath in the dead of winter.

Nothing else mattered. Even the thought of the remaining silver-servant somewhere out there could not trouble her. She had her knife in her wash basket, and Sir Edric's men without.

She closed her eyes, thinking back on her journey from Cannersly when she had unleashed her theurgy. If she could only release it upon will, she would need no man's protection. How had she done it? What had she even done? It had been the first time in so long that she made such a burst, so well had she suppressed her theurgy ...

Her hiccups had come almost every day when she was younger. She would suffer a sudden bout of headaches, and the next thing she knew, so too would everyone around her. It had been a few turns into her manifestation before the hiccups disappeared entirely. Her mother had been so relieved, she baked her the coconut cream cake normally reserved for special occasions.

Isla's stomach growled.

Don't tell me I need to give myself a headache before I can summon my theurgy.

Was that what her ability was? The gift of headaches?

She laughed drily, the sound bouncing in the empty chamber. She did not need theurgy to give someone a headache – to that, Noi would happily attest.

A cold draft whistled through the steam. Isla sunk back into the protection of the water and turned just as a lady wobbled through the door. Even behind the haze, Isla could see she was sweating profusely. Clearly she had not dressed for the hot pools. She stopped by the poolside with a torn look about her that made Isla think of a disgruntled bullfrog. 'I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave.'

Isla startled. 'The fee is for indefinite use.'

'Within reason.'

'I've not been a half hour in the pool.'

'We have other customers.'

'It's large enough for a haarem of us, and I don't mind sharing.' Ah, but they do. Isla followed the woman's unabashed gaze – she could not possibly see her scar under the white cloud, even with those large, bullfrog eyes of hers. The other guests must have complained of it. Isla sniffed in indignance. 'It isn't contagious.'

'It doesn't matter, you're unsettling the others.'

Unbelievable. Isla waited for her theurgy to set, for the pains to assault her head, but nothing came.

For the better, she decided. She did not really wish to harm the bullfrog. Isla swam to the side and pulled herself out. At least her hip no longer troubled her. Water dripped from her untied hair, thick and now long enough to hide her breasts. Not that it mattered. She was in no mind for modesty. 'My money isn't worth any less than theirs.'

'You can return after dark,' the bullfrog croaked. 'The pools will be empty, then. We won't charge you more for it.'

'So I can bathe in their piss? Wise Father forbid, I wouldn't want their ignorance to infect me.' She dried and dressed as fast as she could.

Her hair was still damp when she pushed her way out the door. The three women whom had come before her were still waiting by the admittance house. Girls, Isla corrected herself. They were barely older than Haana.

Isla cast the most scathing look she could conjure. Only one of them was bold enough to meet her eyes. She had half a mind to stop and tell them what was what, but she was coming down with a headache, and she longed for her seat by the fireplace.