Elwin coughed. “Well. I think maybe visiting hours should—”

“No,” Keefe interrupted, turning toward the blobby shape where Elwin had been sitting a few seconds earlier. “It’s okay. My senses just… need to adjust. Plus, I never took anything for the headache and nausea. I should have.”

“Yes, you should,” Elwin agreed, leaning in to whisper, “Guess Ro was right about what we needed to get you to cooperate—or who we needed.”

Keefe felt his cheeks burn.

He wanted to snap back with some sort of clever denial, but witty banter was way too much for his spinning brain. So he settled for a shrug as Elwin’s blurry shape moved toward the colorful shelves of elixirs, and the sound of glass vials plinking against each other echoed through the awkwardness.

If Fitz’s grumpy resentment had been the only emotion churning around the room, Keefe would’ve let him stand there and stew in it—maybe even made another joke to amp it up. But Foster’s feelings were such a brutal mix of hurt, heartache, and humiliation that he had to mumble, “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just meant—”

“I think it’s best if I don’t let you finish that sentence,” Ro jumped in. “The probability of you making things worse is muuuuuuuuuch too high. And since I’m being more helpful than you deserve, I’ll also add that now might be a good time for you to tell us how you’re feeling—and spoiler alert: ‘Fine’ is not the correct answer.”

Keefe rolled his eyes. “Okay, how about this? My senses are a little overloaded—but it’s definitely not anyone’s fault.”

“It got worse once I was here, though, right?” Sophie asked, sounding farther away.

Keefe followed her voice to a blurry blond shape lurking in the doorway, along with a gray blob that was probably Sandor. “It’s not you, Foster. Trust me. The dizziness isn’t getting any better with you standing way over there.”

Which was true!

And supergood news—unless it meant she was still too close…

“I just need medicine,” he insisted. “Elwin to the rescue!”

Too bad the first elixir Elwin gave him only succeeded in making him gag. And the sickeningly sweet one after that actually made his headache worse.

But then Elwin gave him a vial filled with something sour that felt strangely cold when it hit his tongue, and the brain-pounding faded to a soft pulse as the room sharpened into focus.

Elwin followed that with a bubbly elixir that helped Keefe’s insides stop all the backflipping.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Elwin said, flashing lavender light around Keefe’s head. “And you’re probably right about needing to eat something. Think you can take down three squelchberries?”

He handed Keefe three purplish, reddish, fuzzy things that kind of looked like dead caterpillars, and Keefe’s stomach tightened—but he shoved them into his mouth and…

“Guess I should’ve warned you not to do that,” Elwin said as the evil fruits melted into an earthy-tasting slime that glued Keefe’s jaw shut. “Sorry, I thought you were familiar with squelchberries. They have a whole meal’s worth of nutrients in each bite—but they have to be eaten one at a time, otherwise there’s too much juice.”

“I wouldn’t call this juice,” Keefe said—or that’s what he tried to say. With his teeth stuck together it sounded like “Hai-wunnit-hall-ish-oosh.”

“Okay, I’m going to need about a thousand of those,” Ro told Elwin.

“Me too!” Keefe added, but it came out like “Hee-oo!”

Elwin laughed. “I almost want to give you guys a bag and see what kind of chaos ensues. But I’m guessing I’d end up regretting that. And thankfully there’s an easy fix. Tilt your head back, Keefe, and try to open your mouth as much you can.”

Keefe did as he was told—though the Sticky Juice of Doom forced some strange combination of grinding teeth and fish lips. And when Elwin tried to pour in a little Youth, it mostly splattered Keefe’s face.

“This may be the greatest thing I’ve ever seen,” Ro informed everyone. “Can we try dunking his head next?”

“I’d be happy to help,” Sandor volunteered in his strange, squeaky voice.

“I’m down,” Fitz agreed.

“I’m just glad I’m not the only one who doesn’t know everything about all the weird plants and foods here,” Sophie added quietly—which was why she was Keefe’s favorite.

“Hang in there, Keefe,” Elwin said, drenching Keefe even worse than the first time. But a tiny bit seeped through the cracks in his teeth, making the gooey glue start to loosen. “A little more should do the trick.”

He soaked Keefe again, and that time the cool water washed away enough goo to let Keefe wrench his jaw open.

“Wait!” Elwin warned when Keefe started to close his mouth. “You have to rinse the rest of the juice down first, or you’ll get stuck again.”

It took four bottles of Youth before Elwin announced that the squelchberry slime was gone—and Keefe’s stomach felt like he’d swallowed the entire ocean.

Ro let out a happy sigh. “Seriously—you have to give me some of those berries.”

“Same!” Fitz flashed Keefe a wide smile, but Keefe could feel the tension lingering in the air between them.

He just didn’t have the energy to deal with it right then.

Especially since the brain pain was back with a vengeance.

“How are you feeling?” Sophie asked, and Keefe’s gaze shifted to where she stood in the doorway, looking wary and worried and…

Absolutely perfect.

Which was a dangerous thought to have around her telepathic, eavesdropping maybe-boyfriend, so he quickly added, No sign of any injuries.

“You don’t have to stay back, Foster,” he told her, scrubbing his fingers through his drenched hair, trying to bring a little life back to it. “Seriously. I’m much better now. Right, Elwin?”

Elwin snapped his fingers, wrapping orange light around Keefe’s head. “I’d prefer you to take another dose of headache medicine first.”

“Bring it on. Just no more squelchberries, okay? Let’s save those to sneak into Ro’s dinner, so we can all have a few hours of silence.”

“Um, excuse me, Berry Boy—I think you’re forgetting that I have plenty of ways to make your life miserable, even with the doc’s restrictions.” Ro shot a meaningful glance at Sophie that Keefe really hoped no one noticed.

Elwin saved him from having to reply by handing him another elixir, and Keefe sighed as the cold tingles made his skull-pounding fade.

“See, Foster?” he asked, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m all good. You don’t have to keep hiding in the doorway.”

He waved her over, and she chewed her lip for several seconds before taking the world’s tiniest step closer—which would’ve been adorable if another worry storm hadn’t slammed hard into Keefe’s senses.

She scrambled back so fast that she crashed into Sandor. “It is my fault!”

“No, it’s not what you think!” Keefe sucked in a shaky breath, trying to figure out how to explain it. “You got nervous about moving closer, right? That’s what I felt. And it’s not just you. I’m picking up everyone’s mood swings right now, without trying—even Gigantor’s, who, I gotta say, is a big old softie. Who knew our favorite goblin had so many fuzzy feelings?”