She was only half-aware when they put her in the ambulance, but by the time she got to the infirmary she was beginning to think clearly.

  A wall had fallen on her, and she had narrowly escaped drattle burns because the masonry that fallen on her had not been drattled. She had a broken arm and her whole right side felt weird. Though Mani had eased the sharp pain, the shadow pain was still there, to remind her not to move too much.

  Others were hurt far worse, so she had to wait her turn. It took a while before they even came to change her out of her grubby outdoor clothes and into a tunic; then it was a bit longer before a healer and his apprentice came to set her arm and attend to her other injuries.

  She understood that she had to wait, but she was impatient to get out of the healing rooms and go home where she could telepath freely and eat whatever she wanted.

  At first, Bechil-lor, the healer who was tending her, would not agree to send her home right away, but when she told him where she lived and how many healers there were in the household, he agreed to let her go a few hours after he finished healing her and she had drunk some parsho. During that time, she was sure, he checked that she was not lying. No one believed young people half the time, even though they were doing the work of adults these days, but at least he sent her home eventually.

  ****

  She almost regretted it. Arriving at Aunt Thylla’s house, she found herself at the mercy of Lía, the old nurse, who hustled her into “more appropriate” clothing than a hospital tunic, and wanted to know what Taasi thought she had been doing, dressing like a boy, and running all over the city like some homeless orphan.

  “Well, I am an orphan,” she couldn’t resist retorting while Lía undid her single braid and began brushing out her hair in preparation for rebraiding it “properly.”

  “But you have a home,” Lía said. “And a family. Your aunt has made you welcome here and you want for nothing. You have no reason to leave the stonework, especially not dressed like a lad.”

  “It is safer to dress like a boy in case I run into strangers, or off-worlders with funny ideas,” she replied.

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  Though her mani had already told her that it was not necessary, and she wasn’t planning on doing it again, she wouldn’t give Lía the satisfaction of admitting that maybe she had made a mistake.

  “And why should you run into off-worlders at all, I’d like to know? Unless you go looking for them in the Omik stonework or outdoors,” Lía went on.

  She was being rougher with Taasi’s hair than she needed to be, but Taasi was not going to complain like a little kid, even though her head still felt funny after having a wall fall on her.

  “I don’t look for them,” Taasi said. Then couldn’t resist adding, “But I ran into one today, shortly before I was hurt.”

  “What!” Lía practically screeched.

  She got on Taasi’s nerves, but because she had raised several generations and she was old, everyone treated Lía with tolerant respect even when she was ridiculous.

  “And it wasn’t in the Omik stonework. He was checking the wells on the wide rim of the Isol stonework for contamination,” she went on.

  “Tell me that you didn’t speak to him!” said Lía dramatically, putting down the brush.

  “Well, I did. He was a very nice PASS agent.”

  Taasi enjoyed the shock she was causing. Lía could be so silly.

  “And then you fell under a wall and had to go to the infirmary, as if they didn’t have enough work already. That’s what comes of talking to outworlders.”

  “I didn’t ‘fall under’ a wall!” Taasi said indignantly. “A wall fell on me. And the outworlder had nothing to do with it. He tried to help me, but I had already called Mani, and she came.”

  “Then off she went to do something else instead of bringing you home like she should have,” said Lía. “An Atanavi girl in the common ward of the infirmary,” she fussed as she began braiding Taasi’s hair.

  Lía was such a snob!

  Taasi had wanted to come home to be cared for, not scolded. She wished Lía would at least leave her hair loose for a while. She was beginning to regret she had not stayed in the infirmary.

  “I am here now,” she said. “Where is Mani?”

  “Last I heard, she came home tired, but not hurt. She looked in on Nimna and Niagmo, but now I think she is with her second-mate,” Lía said, then added, “Now don’t you start calling her. They need their time together—alone.”

  “I know,” Taasi said, annoyed. “I would have contacted her directly instead of asking you, if I weren’t trying to respect her privacy,” she pointed out.

  Even though Lía must know that Taasi had been doing the work of adults for the past few sunarounds, she insisted on treating her like a child who had to be reminded of basic manners.

  It made Taasi want to scream—especially when Lía pulled on her hair to finish the second braid—but she controlled herself. Mani had advised her to behave more calmly around Lía if she wanted the old woman to take her seriously, so Taasi took a deep breath and instead of showing her anger, asked politely if she could have something to eat.

  Unexpectedly, it turned Lía from scolding about Taasi’s behavior to fussing about getting the best foods for her. Within a few minutes Taasi had a bowl of vegetable chowder and a generous portion of gomast.

  I should have thought of asking for food sooner, Taasi thought, as she ate the chowder hungrily.