“Dead? You mean, literally? She’ll be killed?”

Kit shrugged. “Brought back to the manor and locked in a room. Most likely starved to death. That’s the typical punishment for disobedience. Sometimes, a husband takes pity on an errant wife or a father on a willful daughter. But it makes him look weak in the eyes of his neighbors.”

Now Nolan looked at her, wrathful and amazed. “How can you talk like that?” he demanded.

“I’m only telling you the truth.”

He was on his feet, and he was actually furious. “As if it doesn’t matter,” he flung at her, and stalked away. She was left sitting there, staring after him.

In a few quick steps, he had reached the side of the runaway. In his hands, he carried the bags of fruit and fish that they had just purchased, and now he bent over her, offering them to her with silent gestures of encouragement. The woman had reared back at his approach—alien, blueskin, danger!—but he dropped to a crouch beside her, possibly to look less intimidating. Kit continued to stare. This passed all her experience, all her wildest expectations. Now, he was reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet, thumbing out a few bills, though there would be precious few merchants who would accept money from a woman’s hands. The gulden woman fell on her face before him, sobbing wildly, choking out thanks that he could not translate. Nolan rose to his feet and came swiftly back to the table where Kit sat.

“I think we’d better go,” he said stiffly. He would not look her directly in the face, and Kit realized, with profound shock, that he was still angry with her. “Our train will pull out in about fifteen minutes.”

She came slowly to her feet, trying to think of words. “Don’t you want to get more food?” was all she could come up with.

He turned away from her and started walking toward the track. “I guess we’ll just have to make do with what’s on the train,” he said. “Come on. We’ll be late.”

And she followed him, dizzier than she’d been since she first had her concussion, and wondered if she might, after all, be hallucinating now.

CHAPTER TWELVE

They traveled perhaps two hours in total silence. Afternoon tilted imperceptibly toward dusk. The white daylight hazed into apricot, individual particles of gold hanging suspended in the air. Nolan had, all this time, gazed out the window, unseeing, unmoving. Now he turned to Kit and began the inquisition.

“All right. Tell me about her.”

“Apparently anything I tell you will just upset you.”

“I want to know.”