The little boy with the broken arm waited at the back of the bank lobby while three grown men explained why Felicity ought to see them first. She could hear his teeth click every time somebody bumped him. He kept his good hand on the shoulder of a smaller silver fox cub, steering her out of the way even when it hurt. That settled the order for Felicity.
"Bring your little friend over here," she told him. She took her jacket off and laid it on the counter so he could sit on something warmer than marble. "I need you to tell me where the sorest part is. Your friend can hold on to my tail if she'd like something to do with her hands."
The little girl took that job seriously. Felicity had to work with her tail held straight out behind her and a child solemnly smoothing the fur in the wrong direction. Across the counter, Victor set the boy's arm while Felicity kept the pain down. Then she let her light close around the break. She took it slowly, with a pause to check his fingers. For a cub who looked about six, the little fellow had a startling amount of power under his skin. She made a point of checking whether he was frightened before she asked him to loosen his grip. When the boy could turn his palm up, the girl laid her hand in his and he could finally give it a squeeze.
She sent them to a padded bench in sight of the desk with something to eat. Voss brought over a slate for the names of the others. She'd asked him for something they could wipe clean. There were only so many times she could bear to put a line through the name of somebody hurt, however nicely things had turned out.
A thickset wolfhound rested his foot on her crate. He had a swollen knee and an impatient wife who thought the people who'd slept outside deserved the same as the people upstairs. Felicity had some sympathy for that until his wife started telling Voss how many hours a day the little healer ought to be made to work.
"Just do the knee, sweetheart," the man said. "It's what pearls are for."
Felicity looked up with his kneecap cupped in her hand. The man hadn't asked her name, but he'd found a word for her that made three of his neighbors look away. "My name's Felicity. If you'd like to take it from the top, I'll happily have another go too."
The wife huffed. The man looked past Felicity at Voss, who had quietly added his own name to the slate under the man's, turned it around and put his finger on the word please. It was turning out to be quite hard to stay unpleasant while a wolf twice your size gave you a remedial reading lesson. The man managed the request himself. Felicity eased the swelling, gave him a strip of cloth to wrap the knee and called the next person.
By evening she'd treated a dozen injuries. Three broken bones had taken most of her strength, including the boy's arm. There were people for whom she could only bring down the fever or make a clean dressing, and it bothered her to send them away with so little. By the time she reached the stairs her knees gave out. Voss sat down with her on the bottom step, getting an arm around her soon enough to make it look as if she'd meant to join him.
"I'm guessing pearl was some kind of compliment in whatever filthy game that man used to play," she said, letting her head rest on his shoulder. "Although I'd feel better if it meant I got to live in a box until somebody rich bought me dinner."
"In a game some of the old crew played, a pearl was a rare healer you could own. People carried the word over." Voss checked the lobby. "I think he liked being able to call you something his wife couldn't object to."
"Funny, because I'm getting rather tired of being the person who's supposed to make that less embarrassing for him." He handed her a piece of bread and left his shoulder under her head. When Victor arrived, he brought a cup of water and took the empty seat on her other side. Neither asked her for one more thing. It was a fine minute while it lasted.
The matron's voice carried up the stairs. Somebody had closed the slate for the night, and she wanted it reopened. Victor went down to the desk. This time Felicity finished her bread, put the cup in Voss's hand and followed him because she had something to say for herself.
"They've got supper and beds," the matron told the lobby. "We've got people waiting while those men keep her upstairs. We all have a claim on what's in this building."
"Then start with the blankets," Felicity said. She could feel her voice wobble but she kept going. "Anybody cold can take one. For healing, you ask me. You can wait your turn, and if I say I've spent all I can, you can take that for an answer. I'm the one who nearly went headfirst down those steps."
The matron reached across the desk for her wrist. Victor caught the woman's hand and held it flat against the counter. "She just told you how to ask," he said, and released her as soon as she let go. Felicity felt the cool edge of the slate under her thumb. She turned it facedown herself.
Later, Rhys shared his bread with her near the vault door, asking quietly why she kept at it until her legs quit. She'd been an only child. In the houses she'd lived in, adults always had something more urgent to do, and a child who could save them trouble was welcome in the kitchen a little longer. She told him that much. "You matter here," he said, and she wanted very badly to believe he understood what that meant.
Voss found a cupboard upstairs that the little foxes liked better than the crowded lobby. From the vault she could hear their voices grow quiet as he left the door open a crack. She fell asleep with her tail resting across his warm forearm. When she woke again, he still had his hand there, but he was looking at the dark stairs. Somebody below had started asking what time the wolf came off watch.