"He still doesn't understand," Orliff sighed. "Can we give him a name? He may not remember anything. Who he was, where he lived—nothing."

"Let's call him Niff," Noff smiled. "A combination of both our names."

"That's good," Orliff grinned. "Niff," he tapped the little common on the shoulder. "Niff."

"We're calling him Niff until he remembers who he is," Noff informed Darvul later. "I believe he understands, now; we keep calling him that every time we feed him, and I think he responded the last time."

"Has he attempted to speak?" Darvul walked down the hall toward Niff's room with Noff.

"No, master. Perhaps it is too early, still. He hasn't attempted speech."

"Niff, how are you feeling?" Darvul sat on the edge of Niff's bed. Niff was awake at least and staring up at him. Niff had blue eyes; Darvul could see them clearly in the light from the window. They watched him with curiosity, but Niff had no reply to Darvul's question.

"Darvul," Noff pointed to his master. Niff blinked at Darvul.

"Do you think he understands?" Darvul asked his assistant.

"I think he knows Orliff and me, now," Noff replied. "It can't hurt to try, can it?"

"No," Darvul smiled at Niff. "We're very happy you're awake," he said.

* * *

The news was a heavy blow to Gabron. He remembered the little Queen after three hundred years of forgetting. Forgetting anything was unusual for him—Gabron remembered everything of his nine thousand years as vampire. Three hundred years earlier, he'd erected a bronze monument in the plaza where the Solar Red temple had once stood. It memorialized all the vampires who died defending Refizan from the Solar Red priests and the Ra'Ak. The quote at the base of the monument was Lissa's—he remembered that now. The words were her tribute to his child, Briden, who'd been dragged into sunlight and burned to death. I will hold your name in my heart as I strike down your enemies, she'd written on the sidewalk where Briden died. It was now an anthem to vampires across the Reth Alliance.

Erland Morphis, the Karathian Warlock, brought the news of Lissa's death to Gabron. He'd met Erland shortly after the vid images of Lissa fighting off the Ra'Ak on Refizan had gone out to other worlds. Erland had known where to seek him, somehow. Gabron hadn't been surprised; Karathian Warlocks had their own subtle ways of obtaining information. He also posed no threat to Gabron or his vampires; Erland maintained a high level of secrecy.

"It was a terrible blow to me as well, my friend," Erland sipped the wine that Gabron provided. Gabron still owned and ran brothels with the Refizani government's blessing, even if the common population had no idea they were run by vampires.

"We had hopes that she would take us all to the vampire world," Gabron muttered. "It was a promise made to us, long ago." He didn't tell Erland, although Erland may have guessed anyway, that he'd loved Lissa when he met her three centuries before. Now his hopes were gone, causing Gabron to sigh deeply.

Chapter 3

"Niff, let us see whether you can walk," Noff held both of Niff's hands in his, trying to coax the small common off his bed. Darvul had allowed a small amount of solid food the day before, and the little common was improving in many ways.

Nineteen days had passed since the attacks, and the volcano had slowed down in its eruptions on the Southern Continent. Regardless, common refugees from the southern areas were still trickling into Veshtul looking for work, asking to help rebuild the city. Niff, however, seemed oblivious to all of it, though Noff and Orliff had begun telling him bits of information each day, hoping that something would spark a memory in their patient.

Niff blinked at Noff, his blue eyes wide, and then turned his attention to the floor, which lay a short space below his bare feet. They'd kept the little common dressed in loose pajamas while he convalesced. Niff seemed to be examining his clothing as well.

"Come," Noff pulled gently on Niff's hands. Niff slid off the bed. Darvul said the leg was better and Noff was gentle with the broken wrist. They were going to remove the bandage around the ribs the following day; Darvul hadn't found evidence that the cracked ribs would be a problem, but he didn't want to take unnecessary risks.

Niff was now standing on the floor, wobbling a little on his feet. "Don't worry, it's normal," Noff assured him. "Now, take a step for me." He backed up a step and Niff followed, watching his own feet while Noff kept a firm grip on his hands. Noff took another step back; Niff followed, his legs trembling slightly. Noff wanted to hug his patient—he was doing so well. Darvul stepped into the room while Niff was walking and smiled.

"Better than I expected," he nodded happily. "Still no attempt at speech and no indication that he understands us when we speak, but he does seem to know what we mean when we mimic something."

"He still blinks when the light is bright in his window," Noff said, taking another step backward. Niff was following now, doing his best to remain upright as he walked.

"A common effect from a blow to the head. It may clear up with time. We must be content with what we have at the moment," Darvul observed. "Turn him around and only hold one hand. See if he can make his way back to the bed on his own."

Noff turned Niff around slowly, before letting go of the splinted hand. Niff gave him a questioning look before making his unsteady way toward the bed.

"Very good," Noff breathed as Niff awkwardly seated himself on the bed. "Now, we will lift your feet," he placed Niff's feet on the bed and covered them with the light sheet and blanket. "Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat or drink?" He mimed the actions to Niff.

Niff blinked twice and then mimed drinking only. Darvul laughed. "I'd say that deserves some juice at the least."

"He understood me!" Noff was quite happy as he trotted away to find juice for his patient.

* * *

"Wash your hands, Niff, we're going to roll bandages," Orliff was working with the little common today; Noff had been forced to take a day off; Darvul insisted. Niff obediently washed his hands with soap and water, drying them on the towel Orliff provided. Orliff was quite surprised at how quickly the little common accepted his mimed instructions, although Niff couldn't seem to understand anything anyone said to him. He wasn't deaf; Darvul determined that earlier. He'd deliberately dropped a pot outside Niff's room, causing their patient to startle and jump in his bed. Orliff and Noff had both witnessed the reaction. Niff hadn't uttered a squeak when he'd jumped, so they'd still had no luck at getting any sounds or words from him.

"Now, begin the roll tightly, like this," Orliff showed Niff how to begin. Niff watched carefully, reproducing Orliff's actions on his own roll. "Very good," Orliff encouraged as he and Niff rolled bandages together until they had a full basket. All their supplies were depleted, so Orliff brought out bark to boil afterward. He and Niff worked on that most of the afternoon. The comesuli physicians had little of the pain relief left and Orliff was happy to receive the shipment of bark. He and Niff ground herbs together to use in other medicines; Orliff found that Niff's fingers were strong and nimble as he worked, grinding herbs in a marble bowl with a steel pestle. "You are doing well, Niff," Orliff smiled as the herbs were reduced to usable powder. Niff was quite thorough in his work.

"How is our patient doing?" Lady Mayarok walked into the room. Niff drew in a breath and stopped grinding, staring in surprise at Lady Mayarok instead. She was tall—taller than the commons around her, but most High Demons were tall. Dark hair was intricately braided and piled atop her head and a gentle smile lit her features as she examined the small, injured common that Darvul had described to her.

"Niff, this is Lady Mayarok, Lord Fredevik's mate. She will not harm you." Niff blinked at Orliff for a moment before returning to his task.

"Darvul tells me this one may be mentally damaged from a head injury," Lady Mayarok observed, seating herself beside Niff at the table. Niff ignored the scrutiny and continued his work.

"We aren't completely sure of that; he understands if we show him things—he only has trouble processing information if it is spoken. His hearing is fine; we have checked it. And he hasn't attempted speech. Darvul says this can happen."

"I will be staying at the palace until the Raona gives birth," Lady Mayarok sighed. "Fredevik is quite concerned over the Raona's children. She's pregnant with twins and I have never heard of that before. As I have given birth so many times, Lord Fredevik desires that I stay and instruct the Raona on her first."

"I heard the Raona was with child but did not realize it was twins." Orliff was very interested, now.

"We will require physicians. Might you consider helping? Darvul and his assistant have already been invited to come. You may bring this one with you; he can perform menial tasks at the palace, I'm sure."

"I will discuss this with Darvul and my master. Of course, I would be pleased to come and help tend the Raona."

"I will see that she asks for you personally," Lady Mayarok smiled indulgently at Orliff. "Do not delay; I would like you to come in the next two days, before the Raona becomes ill in the mornings."

"We have herbs that will help," Orliff nodded and smiled at Lady Mayarok. "They will settle the stomach without affecting the children."

"Good. My physician at home did the same for me." Lady Mayarok rose to go. She had High Demon guards posted outside the room and they fell in with her the moment she left the infirmary's stillroom.

* * *

"Lady Mayarok asked me to come, and my master has already given permission if you will consent to take over my training while we are at the palace," Orliff begged Darvul to take him.

"Of course," Darvul smiled at the young one. Orliff was in his thirties and would come to his full adulthood in three years. He would also receive his physician's certification then if he finished his training. "Pack your clothing and supplies; Lady Mayarok is sending a coach for us tomorrow afternoon. Now, we must go out and find clothing for our patient. He cannot wear bedclothes inside the palace."