The Alchemist by Paolo Bacigalupi Page B

welcoming her truth and weight. We started down the corridor that Pila had opened.
    Jiala gave a little cough and wiped her lips on her sleeve. “Truly?” she asked. “There is a place where you can use magic? Even for my cough?”
    “As sure as balanthasts,” I told her, and hugged her tight. “We only have to get there.”
    Another blast of blue flame lit the night, and we all forged onward.

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