It was afternoon of the next day when they made it back to town. The lift groaned as it carried them up, still feeling like a solid metal accident waiting to happen whenever the afternoon breeze kicked up a bit too hard. Jane kept one hand on her aunt's elbow, steadying her against the motion and ignoring the Grand Archmage’s protests that she was more than capable of standing on her own.

  The town came into view as they rose. Jane’s chest ached at the sight of it. She hadn't been gone that long, really. Two days, maybe three. It felt like it had been weeks.

  When the lift clanked to a stop at the top, Otto was the first one out. He slid the gate open for the others. Jane guided Cecelia through, then turned her gaze towards the group that had come to find her aunt.

  They looked tired. They looked like people who had slept on rocks and eaten trail food and walked for hours through difficult terrain.

  More importantly, they looked to Jane like people who had done all those things for her and her family.

  In that moment, she loved each and every one of them. She wanted them to know that. Eventually, she would find a way to make sure they knew it.

  At present, though, she had an even higher priority.

  "Where's the nearest doctor?" she asked.

  "I don't need a doctor." Cecelia's voice was firm. "I'm perfectly fine now. The leg is healed. All I need is rest."

  "You aren't fine. You were unconscious for a day. You lost blood.”

  "Jane."

  "No." Jane turned again to face the others, refusing to listen to her aunt’s objections. "Thank you. All of you. I don't know how to make this up to you. I really don't.”

  She was rambling. The exhaustion had started to catch up with her even before they got back to town, and now that they were within striking distance of medical attention and safety, that exhaustion was shifting into a sort of brittle excitement. The words were coming out wrong, all tangled up with gratitude, guilt, and the constant knowledge that they could have been home days earlier if she had just noticed her aunt was missing before Frank and Deborah brought it up.

  “If there's ever anything I can do,” she went on, “anything at all, tell me. I don't know what that would be, but I'll figure it out. You have my word.”

  Otto looked at her. Then he looked at Frank. Then they both looked at Brit and Allen and Hugh. Something passed among them, some silent communication Jane couldn't read.

  And then, one by one, they started to laugh.

  It wasn't mean laughter, but it went on for a while. Otto actually had to wipe tears from his eyes. Hugh was grinning so wide that Jane could see his back teeth.

  "What?" Jane demanded. "What did I say?"

  They didn't answer. Otto clapped her on the shoulder, still chuckling, and walked off toward the market district. Frank gave her a nod and a wave before heading in the direction of the docks. Hugh hefted his enormous pack onto his shoulders and followed.

  That left Allen, Brit, and Cecelia. Allen and Brit were still smiling, though they at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed about it.

  "I don't understand," Jane said. "What was that about?"

  Allen spoke gently, the way you might talk to someone who had missed something obvious. "Jane, you saved the entire town. From a dragon. Less than two weeks ago."

  "What does that have to do with anything?"

  "You're standing there asking how you could possibly repay people for helping you." Brit shook his head. "After you kept us all from being washed off a mountain."

  Jane opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

  "That's different," she said finally.

  "Is it?" Allen asked.

  "Yes. Anyone would have done it."

  "Anyone couldn't have done it," Brit reminded her. "That's the point."

  Jane felt her face heating up. She looked at her aunt for support, but Cecelia was watching with an expression of quiet amusement that was no help at all.

  "Well," Jane said, because she had to say something, "I'm still thankful. Even if that's funny to everyone, apparently."

  "As touching as this is, I believe I was promised rest.” Cecelia squeezed her niece’s arm. “Jane, I’ll see you later. I’m going to my room at Frank and Deborah’s so I can get started on a much-needed nap."

  "No." Jane grabbed her aunt's arm again. "You're going to the doctor first."

  "I told you: I don't need it."

  "And I told you: you do." Jane started walking, pulling Cecelia along with her. "Allen, I'm sorry. I need to leave now."

  Allen held up his hands. "Of course. Go. Take your aunt to the doctor. I'll let the people who need to know that everything went well."

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  "Thank you." Jane meant it with her whole heart. "I'll find you later. I promise."

  "I know you will." Allen smiled at her. Despite everything, despite the exhaustion and the worry and the fear, Jane felt warm again. "Now go."

  Jane went. Cecelia argued the entire way, but she went, too. Despite being the Grand Archmage, she was also a limping, tired, middle-aged woman. She was in no condition to outrun her niece, no matter how much she might claim she was.

  The doctor's office was a small stone building near the center of town, unremarkable except for the carved mortar and pestle above the door. Jane had walked past it dozens of times without really noticing it. Now she pushed through the door with her aunt in tow and found herself in a quiet waiting room.

  A young woman looked up from behind a desk and smiled. "Can I help you?"

  "My aunt needs to be examined," Jane said. "She was attacked by a boar two days ago. The wound is healed, but she was unconscious for over a day. She lost blood, and she hasn't been eating properly."

  "I'm fine," Cecelia said.

  "She's not fine."

  The young woman looked between them, clearly trying to figure out which one to believe. Then her eyes widened slightly as she recognized Cecelia, and she was on her feet in an instant.

  "Right this way, Lady Cecelia. Doctor Millicent is just finishing with another patient. I'll let her know you're here."

  "That's really not necessary," Cecelia began, but the young woman was already gone, disappearing through a door at the back of the room.

  Jane guided her aunt to one of the chairs along the wall and sat down beside her. Cecelia gave her a look that was equal parts annoyance and resignation.

  "You're not going to leave, are you?"

  "No."

  "I'm perfectly capable of seeing a doctor on my own, Jane."

  "I know you are. But I also know you'll try to convince her that you don't need to be examined properly, and I'm not letting that happen."

  Cecelia opened her mouth, probably to argue, then closed it again. After a moment, she let out a long breath and slumped back in her chair.

  "You're just like your mother," she said quietly. "She used to fuss over me just like this. She was right, most of the time. I miss that. I don’t think I ever told her thank you."

  "She probably knew anyway."

  "Probably." Cecelia reached over and took Jane's hand, squeezing it once before letting go. "Thank you. For coming to find me. For putting together that search party. For all of it."

  "You would have done the same for me."

  "I would have. But that doesn't make it nothing." Cecelia was quiet for a moment. "I've spent so long taking care of you. It's strange, being the one who needs taking care of. I don’t exactly like it."

  "You don't have to like it," Jane told her. "You just have to let it happen."

  The door at the back of the room opened, and Doctor Millicent emerged. She was the same middle-aged woman who had cleared Jane for work after the dragon incident, but dressed more officially now. She took in her two visitors at a glance, seemingly unimpressed. Jane thought this was probaby rare among those who knew who Cecelia was.

  "Lady Cecelia," she said. "I hear you've had an adventure."

  "That's one word for it." Cecelia stood, wincing slightly as she put weight on her leg. "I've been told I need to be examined, even though I'm perfectly fine."

  "Hmm." Doctor Millicent's eyes moved over Cecelia with that same measuring quality Jane remembered. "You're favoring your left leg. Your color is off, too."

  "The leg is healed."

  "The leg may be healed. That doesn't mean you are." The doctor gestured toward the examination room. "Come along. Let's have a proper look."

  Cecelia obeyed, though not without one last glance at Jane that said very clearly ‘This is your fault.’ Jane smiled in return and settled deeper into her chair to wait.

  She was still sitting there twenty minutes later when the door opened again and Doctor Millicent emerged alone.

  "She's resting," Doctor Millicent said, before Jane could ask. "I've given her something to help her sleep. She's more exhausted than she wanted to admit, and her body needs time to recover from the blood loss."

  "But she'll be all right?"

  "She'll be fine. We’ll let her sleep for several hours, feed her, and then make her sleep again. At my best guess, she’ll be recovered by morning."

  Doctor Millicent sat down in the chair beside Jane.

  "She told me what you did. The healing spell. I wish I had access to that kind of magic, if I’m honest."

  "It hurts to cast,” Jane admitted. “At least, it hurts when I do it. But it worked."

  "It did. You probably saved her leg. Maybe more." The doctor was quiet for a moment. "She's proud of you, you know. She didn't say so directly, but I could tell. The way she talked about you."

  Jane didn't know what to say to that. She looked at her hands, studying the remnants of dirt under her fingernails and the small scrapes she didn’t remember getting.

  "You should go home and wash out all those scrapes before they get infected,” Doctor Millicent said gently. "Get some rest yourself. I'll keep her here overnight and make sure she actually sleeps. You can come back in the morning."

  "I should stay.”

  "You should rest." The doctor's tone brooked no argument. "You've done enough, Jane. More than enough. Now it's time to let someone else take care of things for a while."

  Jane wanted to argue. She wanted to stay, to watch over her aunt, to make sure nothing else went wrong. But the exhaustion was dragging at her, and the doctor was right. She had done what she could. The rest was out of her hands.

  "Thank you," she told Doctor Millicent, managing a small smile as she stood. "For taking care of her."

  —

  Jane's feet carried her home through streets that felt both familiar and strange. The cobblestones were the same ones she had walked a hundred times, but she seemed to be seeing them afresh. She was taking in details she had stopped noticing, or had never properly noticed in the first place. It was almost like a homecoming after a much longer journey, full of both comfort and an odd excitement. She bathed in the feeling the whole way home.

  Once she had closed the door to the bakery behind her, she began considering her plans for the next day . She could open the shop, she supposed. She could get up before dawn and light the ovens and measure ingredients and do all the things she had learned to do. The routine would be soothing, if nothing else.

  Then she looked down at the general all-of-her, stiff with dried sweat and forest debris, and found that she agreed with Doctor Millicent’s advice.

  I can let someone else take care of things for a while.

  Nobody expected her to open tomorrow. Word had almost certainly gotten around via Frank, Bella, and the general flow of news in town. After everything that had happened, nobody would even think to look for fresh bread from Jane's Bakery.

  She climbed the stairs slowly, her sore legs punishing her for every step. The bathroom was exactly as she had left it. The new soaps were still sitting in their places on the shelf. She pumped the water and heated it with a thought.

  The first bath was for getting clean. She scrubbed at the dirt under her nails and the grime in her hair, watching the water turn murky around her. She stayed until the water cooled, then drained it and started again. The second bath was for everything else. She sank into the fresh hot water and let herself go limp, her head resting against the curved edge of the tub, her eyes closed. The steam rose around her face, and she breathed it in, letting it fill her lungs.

  The water cooled again. Draining it one more time, she climbed out and dried herself off before putting on some light sleeping clothes. She didn't bother with her hair. She just let it hang wet against her shoulders and made her way to bed.

  Sleep came fast and dreamless, and Jane had never been more grateful for it.

  .

  !