The healers do their best, but there are only so many of them. Cole is there to fill in the cracks, to offer comfort when there are not enough hands to give it.

He kneels beside Sina, folding the cold cloth in his hands over on itself.

"You said I could come and tell you when I got lost," he says. "But I'm only pulled along the paths where the others lost their way."

Her dreams, or the spirits creating them, are singing to him. His voice becomes a murmur as he leans forward to press the cloth gently against her temple.

"Sand bites at my feet, waves cold and green and endless. You need this more than me."