**Jack's POV**
The relief I felt when I saw her across the meadow was so overwhelming.
She was safe, she was here, she was mine.
Now as I look at her, laying limply in my arms, I feel panicked. North is searching through books, trying to find something, anything, to save her.
"North," I warn.
"I am trying Jack." He says in a rushed voice.
"North, the sand Pitch and I had made was a new creation. Nothing in there would help her." Malachi interrupts.
North sighs and sets the book down on a stack of the others he'd flipped though.
We were all surprised at how well the guardians reacted to Malachi telling us how he'd worked with Pitch. The guardians didn't seem to care; he saved November and that was enough.
I stare at her face. She is breathing softly and her eyes are closed. She looks asleep but I know she isn't. She's in too much pain to even attempt to try anything.
"Let me see her hands," North says.
I sit November up, her head on my shoulder and and her arms in her lap. North stands in front of me and softly touches her arm. She whimpers and jerks her arm away.
"I wouldn't touch her, warmth doesn't feel well."
"What about cold?" I ask.
Malachi shrugs. "I never paid much attention to Pitch when he told me about how to cure it. I wish I had.. but I think he said something like, 'cold will drag the sand out,'" he stares at me. "I could be wrong- it may be 'cold will not drag it out', I honestly don't know. It's all I've got."
I stand up and nod at Malachi. Then I walk down the hall to our room I lay her on the bed and she opens her eyes. I pick up her arms and look at them.
Her skin is light pink and the wounds the sand created are skinny and jagged. The sand is black, tinged with red. The wounds stopped bleeding but she is still in pain. I place my hand over her wrists. Her skin is burning with heat.
She sighs in relief after a second. I smile.
"Does it feel better?" I ask.
She nods.
I lean forward and kiss the top of her head.
We sit there for hours, my hands moving up and down her arms. She's not in pain anymore but her arms haven't healed.
Why? What am I doing wrong? There has to be something that will help her. Anything! But I know that nothing I can do will help her.
"November I'm sorry.. nothing is helping." My eyes fill with tears and she weakly lifts her hand and places it on my cheek.
"It's okay," she mouths. I shake my head.
"This isn't okay." I whisper. Then I look at her arms. Suddenly I get an idea. What if Pitch knew we would try cold to drag the hot sand out off her arms? Pitch didn't know Malachi would be on our side. Maybe we could use heat to get it out of her.
"I'm going to go find Malachi," I tell her. "I will be right back." I kiss her forehead and walk out the room.
I find him sitting in the window sill in the globe room. He is igniting flames up his arms, watching smoke hit the ceiling. "Malachi," I say and I walk up to him.
He looks up at me. "Hey, is she better?" He asks.
"No," I whisper. "She's gotten worse." He swallows and nods.
"Malachi. I was thinking. What if Pitch knew I would try to save her? What if cold won't heal her?" He stares at me.
"So what are you saying?" He asks, looking me in the eyes.
"I am saying that we need to try heat."
He takes a deep breath and scratches the back of his head.
"Alright we'll try it."
