Thelsan made the connection about my patients at the same time I did, and spun around. “There are more mosslings around!” he bellowed, at impressive volume. “No one panic, just stay safe and stay alert! If you see any signs of infection in yourself or others, come here to the healer as fast as possible to get it cured! Get into closed tents, and bring someone else so as many are inside as possible! Get up in wagons, even up on the stages! Anywhere you can keep from being touched or keep an eye on who’s touching you! If you have rge animals, get them and yourselves out of danger! Don’t worry about belongings, you can come back for them! Wardens, we’ve got a situation! Mosslings, unknown direction but probably multiple! Bring anyone infected here to the healer!”

  Aryennos ran to the wagon and came back with the portable house. “Nathan, can we...?”

  I nodded. “If you can find enough space, then set it up and get people into it!”

  “Thelsan! We need four open campsites together in a square! Or about that much space!”

  “Go with your parents,” Thelsan said. “Find somewhere, even if you have to move things around. The more secure shelter the better. Jovra! Donour and Ethrin have the horses, get Andu and come take the ornithians—Ary’s friends are a bit busy!”

  “On it!” Jovra called back.

  I heard other voices, calm and controlled, raised farther away and from different directions. Presumably, those were other wardens who had, until now, been just enjoying the festival like everyone else.

  People panicked in a crisis. People got trampled, got left behind, got disoriented. People got hurt.

  I hoped fervently that they were doing better than that here and now, and that the trusted voice of authority would be enough to hold things together.

  I didn’t have time to pay much attention. I was already Purifying the next infected victim, and Serru was urging the friends of the next to bring that one closer, and I was watching my mana level drop armingly quickly. I didn’t much care for the experience of casting this much this rapidly. It felt like someone was spraying foam into my brain in spurts, and I was running out of room for concentration on what I was doing. This did involve at least some ability to stay focused, and that worried me.

  “I’m going to run out of magic,” I said between patients. “Can someone get the Elixir out of the medical kit in my bag for me?” I didn’t want to stop that long.

  “We have more,” Terenei said. “I have one on me too, my grandfather insisted. And we can find more, I’m sure. Thelsan! We’re going to need Elixirs if this keeps up!”

  “Will see what I can do!”

  “I have one.” That was the cherry-skinned aquian dancer I’d first healed, huddled by the fire. One of ens friends had run off and had just returned, and both friends together were setting up a tent right here so the dancer, who was showing some signs of shock, didn’t have to go far. That made it rge enough for two, which meant it should be feasible if crowded for three. The dancer scrabbled hastily through the small bag at ens side, and produced a bottle that even in the twilight and firelight practically glowed with radiant white. “Here. Take it. I’ll find more, I know performers who keep one in reach for big events.” En scrambled to ens feet and vanished into the chaos.

  One of ens friends cried out in protest, and both plunged after en.

  It didn’t take much longer for my mana bar to get so low that I didn’t have enough to use Purification even once more. The foam in my brain made everything dull and ft and, paradoxically, empty, but I was sure that was bad. Terenei urged me to swallow from an open bottle, and I did, without even the motivation to question. It tasted sweet and effervescent, almost like a mouthful of Pop Rocks but with more of a real fruity fvour.

  As my mana bar began to climb, the fogginess retreated, restoring crity and attention.

  “Thanks! Good to keep going! Next!”

  The level of my mana bar kept increasing gradually but steadily, despite several cures that brought it down each time, until finally it levelled out. It wasn’t at the top, but near it. It must just keep it recharging for a period of time, because it certainly hadn’t just maxed it out once or given me a set amount.

  At least next time I got low, I knew to tell Terenei, and he was ready with another potion.

  And another.

  I lost count, but I was pretty sure it was more than his and mine and the cherry-skinned aquian dancer’s. Now and then, the taste was different, smoother and more citrusy, and after those ones, I felt much less exhausted, much more awake and energetic. So many people around us on all sides, I wasn’t even sure why they were so close, I just trusted Serru and Terenei and Heket to keep track of everything else while I cured anyone they pushed in front of me.

  A small part of my mind, disconnected, wondered about the epidemiology of moss infections and how high the R number was and whether I could get the number of infections down quickly enough to keep everyone here safe.

  An occasional patient was, I assumed, an infection vector sent by the Queen, much more deeply mossified than seemed likely in this short time. Those ones died when cured, usually while being held by Heket with great care; otherwise, people walked away, crying in relief or ughing hysterically or shocked silent, alone or with someone who had supported them here, but they walked away. That seemed like a good sign, but it felt like there were an awful lot of people.

  Somewhere outside my immediate bubble, out in territory I didn’t have the resources to spare to analyze, there was still a lot of screaming and motion, and some of the noises were ornithians and horses and dogs and probably other animals.

  Thelsan and another jotun, both wearing heavy gloves, dragged a patient to me who was so covered in moss that I couldn’t be sure of a sex or any other details, but they might be human.

  “You can’t have them,” I told her. “I’ve spent the day celebrating creativity and life and freedom with these people. You can’t have a single one.”

  “Are you sure?” the mossling said, as Heket took over holding them, freeing the two jotuns to go back to their own job.

  “I’m sure.” I took a deep breath, and brought up my dispy again.

  Beside me, Serru cried my name, and it sounded like a warning.

  I pivoted, as best I could with four hooved feet and a lot of body, distantly aware of Terenei jumping out of the way.

  The diminutive build suggested a felid, but everything was hidden under a long coat with a deep hood.

  More important was the blood on one hand. As Serru stumbled and dropped to one knee, then lurched sideways, it exposed the knife that had been driven right to its copper hilt up under her ribs, and the green moss that I could see, both on the arm that she had probably used in an attempt to block the blow, and around the knife wound bared by the cropped top ribbon-gathered under her breasts. I hadn’t seen it spread on anyone as rapidly as it was across her abdomen. The felid mossling scurried away, quickly lost in the shadows.

  “Missed,” the mossling Heket held snarled. “Stupid bitch got in the way.” She looked at Serru with head tilted, watching her struggle for air. I heard an arming whistle: at least one lung had been punctured, along with diaphragm and almost certainly other rather useful organs. “Do you think she’ll die faster than I can cim her and fix her?”

  If I healed the knife wound, I was fairly sure I wouldn’t have time to cure that fast-spreading moss infection before it became lethal to do so.

  If I cured the moss infection, I doubted I’d have time to deal with the knife wound.

  I pulled up my dispy, and dropped to one knee to y a hand on Serru’s shoulder. She id her hand over mine, too breathless with pain to speak.

  I knew which she’d choose. So I chose it, and I doubled the mana behind it, just in case. It was going to mean I didn’t have enough left for more than a half-strength Quickheal, but I couldn’t risk that aggressive infection succeeding.

  The moss instantly began to turn brown, its spread faltering and then stopping altogether.

  It wasn’t the only thing that stopped.

  Her hand over mine squeezed, once, then her next breath didn’t come.

  It felt like my heart stopped too, as she slumped there, her hand sck instead of pressed instinctively to the injury, eyes seeing nothing. I cast Diagnosis, one of my cheapest abilities, hoping desperately that it would tell me that I could still do something, maybe one of those red crystal hearts that had brought Aryennos back, the potions we had with us, enough time for me to get my mana up again...

  Vital signs absent, it told me with a complete ck of tact. Possibility of resuscitation: none.

  “Nathan!” Terenei pulled at my upper arm. “Leave her! She’ll be back soon! Other people won’t if the Moss Queen can infect them and get them out of the festival! Are you going to tell her when she gets back that you let people be lost?”

  How was I supposed to concentrate on that? Serru was dead.

  Had pced herself between that knife and me, I realized, as the Moss Queen’s words registered.

  “Out of mana,” I told Terenei, keeping my voice, and the lump in my throat, under tight control. He was right. Priorities. “I used a lot on Serru.”

  He fished a blindingly-white bottle out of his backpack, opened it, and handed it to me to drink.

  I strode over to the mossling Heket was holding, and without a word, set them free.

  Then I got back to work, too numb to feel anything.

  Cure and cure and cure, accept a potion from Terenei and drink without question, cure and cure and cure, swallow a potion... At some point, someone forced a heavily-infected felid in a long coat in front of me. I set that one free too, and kept going. The mossling didn’t bear the responsibility for Serru’s death, no matter who held the knife.

  The flood slowed down.

  And then it trickled off to nothing.

  Thelsan returned.

  “It’s over,” he said tiredly. “Not a single individual has left the festival grounds, and we’re absolutely sure that there is no longer anyone in the grounds who’s infected. Anyone with appropriate skills has been examining people to make sure, and we’ve been tucking people into tents, into your house, into wagons, anywhere we could find once we were sure they were safe. Everyone is starting to come out of hiding. Come on. I’ll take you to your house. We’ll figure your wagon out tomorrow. The ornithians are safe, Jovra and Andu will bring them back once they hear the all-clear.”

  Silently, I nodded.

  I still had a moderate amount of mana left after the st potion. I turned the dial to Healing Rain, one of my newest abilities and one I hadn’t actually tried yet, and increased the level to the point that I should have just enough mana left to switch back to human. I didn’t want to think anyway.

  Clouds gathered overhead, and in seconds, a soft rain began to fall.

  “It should st about a quarter of an hour,” I said. “I hope it covers the whole festival. It’ll work like a weak Quickheal on anyone who stands in it.”

  “A lot of people could probably use it. We avoided any severe injuries but there’s no end of minor bumps and bruises and the damage left by infections after they’re cured. That is, incidentally, so far beyond impressive that I don’t have words for it. Curing even one person of it would be extraordinary. You just saved dozens.”

  I shrugged. Yeah. Avoided severe injury. Except for several dead mosslings. And Serru.

  I switched back to my human form, even though it left me with so little mana it was barely a thin bright line at the bottom. If there was anything else, those others with appropriate skills would have to handle it. I’d done my part.

  The part that had been necessary because I’d been here.

  With my mana that low, that distant ft feeling came back, but that was okay. It was probably better.

  Heket pressed Myu into my arms while she colpsed her mecha. I noticed that she slung it on her back to bring with her. I rubbed Myu absently behind her ear, and she pressed tightly against me, apparently not minding the rain. At least she’d been safe, in Heket’s mecha with her where nothing could touch her.

  Terenei scooped up Serru’s brown-and-green satchel from just inside the tent she’d intended to sleep in, slung it in pce on his own shoulder, and knelt next to her body. I couldn’t even formute the question about why he was stripping off her communication choker and her bracelet and earrings.

  “Zanshe gave her that jewellery,” he said, rejoining me and patient Thelsan. “She’d be furious if we lost it. Clothes are easier to repce if we can’t get them. House, please. After the amount of Elixir and Refresh Nathan has had, a bed is going to be essential very soon because they are going to wear off hard. And I think I would prefer to have him in the house instead of in a tent that probably won’t st long enough.”

  “The dead?” I asked, and even that was difficult.

  “The mosslings will be gone by noon tomorrow, maybe less,” Thelsan said. “Serru... we’ll take care of her. She’ll take longer.”

  It wasn’t like I really knew anything about how death or the dead were handled here. Terenei did, and seemed fine with that. I supposed I had to go along with it.

  Without Thelsan’s two-and-a-half-meter assertive self, getting through the agitated crowds would have been problematic even if we’d known which way to go.

  I didn’t care which direction. We were walking away from where Serru had just died to protect me, and had needed to because I’d wanted to enjoy the party just a little longer.

  I did hear Thelsan ask Terenei how far away Serru’s birthpce was, and an answer about the central Midnds, but what difference did it make? I just kept seeing her fall, seeing her die.

  There were still people in the portable house, but Aryennos and his parents were shooing them gently out. That probably expined the forest of tents we’d walked through.

  I had nothing to say. I just released damp Myu into one of the hanging chairs to start washing herself, went up the stairs to the bedroom, and pulled the dark curtain across. Below, I heard Aryennos ask where Serru was, though I couldn’t make out the lower-voiced replies from Terenei and Heket. Meridel sounded upset, though.

  I left my bag on the chest and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at nothing.

  Terenei joined me after a long moment, sitting beside me with a knee drawn up so he could face me.

  “She’s not gone,” he said. “I know what you’ve told us about death in your world. But that isn’t how it works here. She’ll be back in a cycle or so, and she’ll be in a terrifying mood, I’m absolutely sure of that. This is inconvenient, to say the least, but it isn’t a catastrophe. Come on. Get out of your clothes, the parts I made won’t st much longer anyway. I’ll help.”

  He had a rectangle of rough fabric, too, wet with something gently scented. He said something about precautions against incidental exposure, but I didn’t care. Resisting would take too much effort anyway.

  “I really wish there’d been an alternative to that much Elixir and Refresh,” he said with a sigh. “There are going to be consequences to that. You’re not going to need a Lulbye, that could actually be dangerous, but Soce might help with some of the mental effects, and Recovery when you wake up. But that won’t be happening soon. Once you’re down, I’ll be astonished if you’re awake before this time tomorrow. We’ll handle everything.”

  “Serru died.” My mind wouldn’t give me any other image. Just that one, as she died. Vital signs absent. Possibility of resuscitation: none.

  “Yes. Not for the first time. Nathan, I promise, she’s going to be okay. I know that’s hard to grasp right now. You’re in bad shape yourself and I know you have different associations with death and honestly, that was so violent and sudden that I’m having some trouble with it too. But she’s not in the Moss Queen’s hands, and by the time you wake up, she might even be back already. It’ll just take her time to catch up with us. Please. Drink this, then lie down, you’re going to fall asleep fast once you do, and we’ll be here when you wake up and we’ll sort out the rest then, all right? Everything’s going to be okay.”

  If the potion did anything, I couldn’t feel it. I obeyed the directions to move so he could pull the soft bnket back, and then curled up on the comfortable bed while he drew it over me.

  Serru died.

  Putting herself between me and a mossling.

  Which was at the festival at all because of me.

  I kept saying I wanted to get home to my family, and kept getting distracted by the endlessly fascinating world around me. But this world did have dangers and I wasn’t taking them, or the possible consequences to the people altruistic enough to help me, seriously. I should have left them in Ottermarsh and not been talked out of it.

  It wasn’t the mossling with the knife that was responsible. It was the foreign contamination of this world. All three of us.

  With guilt gnawing at me and that memory of Serru burned deep into my mind’s eye, I finally passed out.