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Sera looked up. “Bone grows.”

“Not after you remove it.”

For a heartbeat Sera stared at her.

Then one corner of the older woman's mouth lifted.

Kesta decided she might like her.

Dreven remained near the doorway while they worked. His horns nearly brushed a suspended lamp, forcing him to angle his head slightly beneath it. The position should have made him look awkward.

It did not.

Kesta tried not to notice.

Everyone entering the infirmary noticed him, however. Their gaze moved from their commander to the copper markings around Kesta’s wrist, and Kesta gradually realized the concern she saw had very little to do with whether Dreven might mistreat her.

They were afraid of what she might cost them.

A Kharovian woman with a wide burn scar crossing her chest stopped Dreven in the corridor. Her voice was too low for Kesta’s translator to catch everything, but several fragments came through.

“—condenser failing—”

“—Red Basin will demand compensation—”

“—another mouth, another conflict—”

Dreven listened without interrupting. His face remained still, although his tail lowered slightly with each accusation.

When the woman finished, he answered quietly.

“Reduce my ration first.”

Her expression hardened. “You think hunger makes this wisdom?”

“No.”

No excuse followed.

The woman stared at him, then looked past his shoulder toward Kesta.

Their eyes met.

Kesta expected resentment.

What she saw was exhaustion sharpened into calculation.

The woman entered the infirmary and set a cup beside Lina. “Drink slowly. My name is Kalla. I manage Ash Camp’s water.”

Lina reached for it.

Kalla caught the cup first. “If you spill it, I will dislike you personally.”

Lina blinked.

Then, surprisingly, laughed.

Kalla handed over the water.