Sereva was still talking, nervously, as if she couldn’t stop herself. “I can’t imagine why they brought you here, but that arrogant doctor—or whatever he is, I’m sure he doesn’t have an actual degree—he wouldn’t let me move you to a real hospital. So I said, then I’ll have to stay, I’m not leaving her there alone all night with people who can’t be trusted to care for her—”

“The gulden have superb medical training facilities on Gold Mountain,” Kit said faintly. Her brain squeezed against her skull with an insistent pressure; surely her head was about to shatter. “They produce marvelous doctors.”

“Well—maybe for their own kind—everybody knows that their blood is just a little different from ours—”

“It is,” Kit agreed. She closed her eyes, hoping to ease the pain a little. “It’s weaker. More vulnerable to disease. But their bones are stronger. Other than that—not much difference.”

“You may say that,” Sereva said, “but I don’t believe it.” She may have added more, but Kit did not hear it. She curled in upon herself, trying to ease both the pressure in her head and the pressure on her heart, and fell asleep once more.

*   *   *

In the morning, except for a nagging headache and a leaden pain throughout the left half of her body, Kit felt relatively normal. Clear-headed, at least. She was hungry, though when they brought her food, it suddenly did not seem like a good idea to eat it. However, when a nurse told her she couldn’t go home till she’d kept food down for at least six hours, she ate about half the meal, and she actually felt better for it. Late in the afternoon, a gulden doctor came in to examine her—not the one from the night before—and pronounced her well enough to leave.

“But I’d have her checked by her own doctor in a day or so,” he advised. Sereva answered with a sniff and a look that meant I certainly intend to! but Kit smiled at him warmly and thanked him and the hospital staff for their care. They took a limo to Sereva’s, for Granmama did not feel well enough to watch the invalid, and the boys came rushing out to help her to the door.

“Here, Kitrini, lean on me! I’m so strong!” Bascom exclaimed, tugging her arm over his shoulder and putting a hand at her waist.

“Kitrini, you look terrible!” Marcus informed her, dancing before them up the wide walk. “What’s a concussion? Does it hurt? Will your brain burst open?”

Kit laughed weakly. “I don’t think my brain will burst open, but I wouldn’t swear to it at this point. Bascom, a little slower, please? My ankle hurts.”