“What’s wrong with him?” Elaine asked as she studied the scrawny boy leaning on the wall next to Estelle. His feet were shaking, and he was as pale as a sheet, swaying left and right as if he had too much to drink. There was dried blood in his hair and on his left hand, which he held close to his body. “Demons,” Estelle replied curtly. Elaine was just about to ask how come they were still alive and mostly unharmed, but Estelle didn’t give her the chance. “Where is your sister?” Elaine frowned, not sure what to make of the question. Estelle didn’t seem like the type of person who would care if Isabelle lived or not. But she didn’t seem like the type who would help a wounded servant boy, either. “She is on one of those boats,” Elaine replied with more confidence than she felt. She had to

