“I—” she tried to think. “Yes. Maybe.”

“Goatsfoot,” he said grimly. “It has to be. That’s why you’re getting hit and I’m not.”

“Goatsfoot? That—” She sat up slowly, blinking tears away. “That’s the stuff that scrambles Gifts, isn’t it? I thought it was rare—”

“Only Thoughtsensing and Empathy and yes, it is rare in most places. It’s not common around here, but it’s not rare either, and it’s been a wet spring, just what goatsfoot likes. The damned fools must have gotten hold of a lot and just chucked it in the food without checking beyond seeing that it was edible.”

She was able to think a little clearer now. “This is going to make anything I read pretty well worthless for the next couple of days, isn’t it?”

He grimaced. “Don’t even try; it’ll make you sick. Those damned fools were just lucky they didn’t have a Healer overnighting there! If you can ride, I think we’d better go back—”

“I can ride, if we take it easy. Why?”

He had already turned Tantris’ head back the way they had come. “What if they have more of that stuff—and a Healer as a guest tonight?”

“Great good gods!” She let Rolan follow in Kris’ wake.

It wasn’t more than a league back; they hadn’t traveled far before the effect of the fungus hit her. She fought off successive waves of dizziness and disorientation, and was vaguely aware that they’d stopped and Kris was giving someone a sharp-tongued dressing-down. She caught frantic apology; it seemed genuine enough—what her Gift was feeding at her was anything but a reliable gauge. Waves of paralyzing fear, apprehension, guilt—followed immediately by waves of delirious joy, intense sexual arousal, and overwhelming hunger.

Finally, another “blank” moment, and she drew a shuddering breath of relief.

“Little bird?”

She opened her eyes to look down on Kris standing at her right stirrup.

“Do you want to stay here? I can go back to the signal tower and get them to send a message that you’ve been taken ill—and whose fault it is.”

“No—no. I’ll be better—better away from people. You can shield; they can’t. I won’t fall off; Rolan won’t let me.”

“If that’s the way you want it . . . ”

“Please—” She closed her eyes. “Let’s get out of here—”

She heard him mount; felt Rolan start off after him. She didn’t open her eyes; the disorientation didn’t seem so bad when she could keep them closed. And she was right; as distance increased between herself and the village, the worst of the effects decreased. She felt a second shield snap up around her—Kris’—then a third—Rolan’s—