The night passed, as it always did on the train, in a choppy blur of motion, color, and disorientation. The train’s infrequent halts would jar Kit into a sudden moment of panic, as she woke from some fragmentary dream to wonder frantically where she was. The stations outside her window were a jumble of flashing lights, shadowed bodies and muffled cries of question and farewell. Ah. On the way to Gold Mountain. Then the train would ease forward again into its rhythmic, pacifying motion, and she would close her eyes and try to recapture her dreams.

Whatever drugs Nolan had given her had instantly mitigated the pain in her foot, but they had caused her brain to go loose and hazy. For she could not concentrate at any of the stops they made, could not marshal her thoughts and plan her strategy. How was it possible she was guiding this man to Gold Mountain, taking him straight to Chay’s door, with no more information than he had given her? She must think what to say to the gulden leader. He would find her gullible and ridiculous; he would be incredulous to learn how quickly she had agreed to Nolan’s proposition. She must find words to explain her terror and her subsequent actions, but she could not concentrate. Her mind fogged over. She was asleep again.

In the morning, she woke groggy and irritable, having slept poorly and feeling a dull pain start to chisel away at her ankle bone. Nolan, apparently, had visited the market stalls while she drowsed, for he had brought an assortment of breakfast foods back to their seats and was already munching on a pastry.

“Are you hungry?” he asked when she was awake. “Does any of this appeal to you? I could go back for more.”

“Give me a moment,” she said and struggled to her feet. In the women’s necessary room, she cleaned herself up as best she could and tried not to be too horrified at the dull, slaty color of her skin. She could stand to go a day without washing her hair, but only if she braided it tightly back from her face, and she had nothing to tie it with. A murmured request to a gulden woman who eyed her with frank curiosity netted her a gaily striped ribbon that in no way matched her mood, but it would have to do.

“Thanks would I gladly give to someone who offers me such charity,” she said formally, and the woman smiled and ducked her head.

When she returned to her seat she felt marginally more cheerful and quite hungry. She ate everything Nolan had bought her, but was less eager to swallow the pills he handed her to take with her meal.

“I think I’ll skip the pain medication for now,” she said. “It makes me too drowsy.”

“Fine, your choice, but take the vaccine anyway.”

“I thought I took one yesterday.”