In the end, Aliya decided not to say anything. That seemed the safest course of action. She remembered the Inquisition. Those priests would have known exactly what to do with visitors from other worlds. They'd test her to see if she was an associate of the devil, and that meant going for a swim with a heavy rock tied around her neck. If she managed not to drown, then she was guilty, and the devil had helped her. And if she did drown, they'd say, "Too bad, she must have been innocent. Let's pray for her soul and thank God for knowing best." Fun times all around.

What if this is all a bad dream? Aliya didn't want to drown or be burned at stake, even in a dream—even as an act of faith. She didn't care what world she was in or what planet it was or what century. Judging by the fact that there are no mirrors, it has to be no later than the 15th century. She didn't care about anything but her health. She needed to sleep and get her strength back.

Sleep. Aliya gave a deep sigh and started counting sheep. She was asleep by the time the sixteenth sheep jumped the fence.

♦

Aliya got her second shock when she woke again. After she opened her eyes, she drank some water and realized she needed to pee. Her trusty nurse, who stank worse than ever, pulled back the blanket and stuck some kind of medieval pot under her patient.

Aliya was about to protest until she caught sight of her body. That. Is. Not. My. Body. Her whole life, Aliya had had dark hair, olive skin, and gray eyes, and she'd never been over a size 8. Which is a perfectly average size when you're five and a half feet tall. But instead, lying on the sheet, which should have been washed a month ago, was a doughy, fair-skinned body that looked like it took a size 16 or more. The body's dirty nightgown had ridden up, and she saw that she was a natural blonde.

Aliya fainted dead away, but that didn't keep her from peeing in the pot.

♦

When she opened her eyes again, the sun was up. She still felt awful. Her mouth was dry, and her head ached. She felt nauseous. And she preferred not to think about her perineum. If she had, in fact, given birth recently, the baby must have been a giant porcupine.

Someone was holding her hand and talking. "...Visa Hadson's ewe threw a two-headed lamb. The medicus, the same one who came to see you, went to look at it and said that he would stuff it and send it to the King's Museum of Curiosities. By the way, he promised to check on you today. Oh, please don't die, my girl! Just don't leave me! I nursed you and carried you in my arms and raised you, and I raised your father, too! You're all he has, his only flesh and blood. And you're all I have. I know you want to go back to the earth as your mother did, but he won't survive without you. Your husband may be an earl, but he's a villain! Here his poor wife is on her deathbed after trying to give him a child, and he's back in the capital carousing with whores. I steeped a piece of gold in holy water for you so that you'd be even more beautiful after giving birth. Please get better, my precious angel! I can't stay here without you! Who would look out for me if you weren't here?"

The woman's words dissolved into unintelligible muttering.

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