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Keth turned white and rushed fro her rain shield over all of theht, Chi on Triss shoulders

Dema led the way to Elya Street, past the arurimat, and on to Noskemiou Way

Tris kneed her horse even with Demas she asked was she? Back in Khapik?

Dema said tersely was at the foot of the last emperors statue in Achaya Square They didnt tell me until she was taken to Noske too near the body His riain

They rode on to Noskereat hospital lay directly across the Piraki Gate fros, larger than any of Winding Circle s infirh, white stucco over brick, Noskes that were the ladders rungs lay courtyard gardens where the healers grew herbs for their n that named it as a House in Tharian, Kurchali and Tradertalk, the es spoken here They rode by Childrens House, Mothers House, Elders House, Poverty House Beyond the white stucco was painted black This part of the hospital had no s, only a few doors, and no signs at all An arurim stood in front of one of its small doors

Dema rode up to him and dismounted arurim willremained, too

Bear, stay,ordered Tris as she slid out of the saddle is this place, anyway?she asked

Thanas,Keth said, his voice more crackly than usual House of the Dead

They followed Dens for preservation, cold, and permanence shone in Triss vision from the walls and floors The people alked here were civilians who quarrelled, wept, or bore their losses silently or they were those orked here, silent prathmuni dressed in black tunics or kytens

Dema led them to a door that bore a brass nuo in Two black-robed prathhteen, ordered Dema They led him, Tris and Keth to a covered fored nails bit her palht of dead people: they looked sad, alone, abandoned Though she had seen a great an, they still made her flesh creep

The prathmuni drew the cover away from the dead woled Under the hts storm the weapon showed yellow at her throat: the head veil of a yaskedasu While she and Kethlun had revelled in lightning, rain and cool air, the Ghost had struck His way of killing had changed the wonize her, but Tris knew the lavender scent, the soggy brown curls and the embroidery on the dead wonize the victi his face in his hands