"Well, you should have asked Eve to do it. Or at least to watch in case you faint."

Lynia blinks, and cranes her neck to look up at Teresa. "Eve left a bit ago. She's not here."

Teresa frowns. That's unusual. Eve giving up time she could have spent with Lynia?

She shakes her head, and squeezes Lynia more tightly.

Squirming. Why is everyone so intent on crushing her to death today?

"Regardless, you could have gotten hurt. I am not going to let you get hurt. Come with me."

She releases her sister from her arms, takes the glass from her and sets it on the counter, and keeps hold of Lynia's wrist. Drags her along, up the stairs to the towers.

She doesn't protest. There's no point fighting Teresa.

When they reach the bedroom that is nominally Lynia's, the one where all three of them most often spend their nights, Teresa takes her sister by the shoulders and pushes her gently inside.

Lynia goes in, turns to face Teresa, and frowns at her. She is blocking the door.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you know why Eve left?"

"She didn't say." Lynia looks down, and fidgets uncomfortably. It's only an impression, and she doesn't want to assume, and she doesn't want to violate Eve's privacy in case her assumption is correct, and she doesn't want to make it sound like it's Teresa's fault, but --

Concealing things from Teresa isn't going to work anyway.

"I...think she's feeling bad. I mean, you -- you know how hard it is for her."

Teresa draws her lips to a line. "I see."

Now why would that cause her to depart and go God knows where, instead of cuddling with Lynia until she feels better as usual?

"I mean... Look, Sis, you were being really harsh with her yesterday. I don't think it's any surprise that what you said hurt. If it was me, I'd..."

But Teresa would not say anything harsh to Lynia. Not unless it was purely to protect her. She loves Eve dearly, but her sister is another matter.

"Perhaps," she says. "Well, I am going to go and find her." She tilts her head. "Apologize, maybe. But you will be staying here, and you will not be putting away any dishes, or doing anything else that will get you hurt. I'll release you once I'm home again."

An outstretched hand. "Teresa, wai--"

She presses her hand to the control, and the door slides shut. She seals it with her city code. No one but her will open it. Not Lynia, and not Eve.

She has food and drink and facilities, and a comfortable bed. She will be fine for a couple of hours.

Now, to locate Eve.

She takes her telephone, wrought of beautiful glass in the shape of a snail's shell, from her pocket as she returns to the ground floor. Will Eve respond to a message inquiring as to her whereabouts?

She will.

She's out toward the edges. The old city. She doesn't say what she's doing there.

(She'd really prefer not to reveal her location at all, but when Teresa sends you a message, you don't leave her hanging.)

Will she meet Teresa in forty-five minutes at the bar just west of 7th Street?

She will.

Well, that was easy enough. Now Teresa will just need to figure out what's actually wrong.

And how serious a threat it poses.

It is night, and Eve is at the edge of the city. Near the wall.

This is a poor place, but it was rich once, long ago. Before spire-salt. The streets are of cobblestone, and the buildings are tall and gaunt and vaulted, built of wood and granite: the beams shrunken by the years and pulled taut against the bricks, as if the flesh of the houses has shriveled upon the bone.

Above, the stars glitter indigo in a velvet sky. The moons are out, both of them, but of each only a faint sliver shows. The streetlights, of thin white oil-flame, cast shadows about the street. There are living things in those shadows. Eve does not fear them.