His heart sank like a stone. ‘Rico?’

‘He’s doing OK,’ she said, not meeting his gaze. ‘He lost a lot of blood, but he’ll pull through.’

‘Thank God.’

‘Polar’s stable too.’

Tom nodded, standing awkwardly beside the door, uncertain what to say. ‘Have you been here all night?’

She nodded. ‘The ambulance was still there when I got outside. Stacy vouched for me, and they gave me a ride here.’

‘Would’ve been a long walk otherwise. Especially with one sneaker.’

She didn’t smile, but at least she looked directly at him. ‘How about you? Where’ve you been?’

‘The arena. Jicaque was fixing people up.’

‘With deranged tailors?’

Tom glanced down at his ill-fitting jeans and shirt. ‘There were a whole load of old clothes down there. I guess for re-clothing the troops once they …’ He broke off. ‘Anyway. I just wanted to watch him perform the first rituals of the cure.’

It had been fascinating, watching the old man chant over the prone bodies, pressing his old, gnarled fingers against pressure points of their bodies, warming the freezing air with the colourful words of his incantations.

She must have seen the faraway look on his face. ‘I’m sure it was something. Maybe he should charge admission.’

Tom ignored her. It was what she did; coped with the world by holding it at arm’s length and waving sarcasm in its face.

‘I tried calling you …’

‘I was asleep. Dead to the world.’ She half-smiled. ‘Lucky for you, you didn’t wake me. I feel a lot friendlier after a good long sleep.’

Tom nodded. ‘I’m dying for a soft bed,’ he said with feeling.

‘Well, if you will stay up all night …’ The light in Kate’s eyes showed him she was in better humour now. ‘What about all the other walking wounded?’

‘At another hospital, I think. Jicaque took care of it … he’s started work on the cure with them all.’

She nodded. ‘Happy ending, then. Right?’

‘I hope so.’

They looked at each other for long, silent seconds.

Then Kate took a deep breath. ‘I was wrong to say what I did last night …’

‘You were upset. Jeez, we were all upset.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t go after you. I felt bad all night.’

‘Really?’ she murmured. Her voice sounded hard, tired. ‘Well, I guess it’s your shit. You’ve got to get through it your own way. Right?’

‘Uh-huh.’ He paused. ‘You heard Jicaque, his cure takes a month. And I don’t think we have a month before Takapa or your mom and dad try to catch us again.’

‘So what are you going to do? You going to see your parents?’

‘Not until we’ve seen yours,’ he said firmly. ‘Not until we’ve cleared our names.’

Kate pulled a face at him. ‘And just how do we do that?’