“What is it?”
“Vicodin. It’s like lidocaine but for the whole body.”
“Oh, right … stuff that makes you go numb.” I quickly swallowed the pills. As I waited for the medicine to take effect, I asked, “What else did I miss?”
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Not much, actually. Apart from your attempted murder, the day was uneventful. There was the avian assassination attempt, then people ate lunch, and now all the elves have traveled to Bunker Hill.”
“I have to join them. If I stay in bed, I’m out of the Winnowing. If I don’t participate, I’ll be executed.”
“I know.” He nodded grimly. “That’s why I’m here. Try testing your leg now.”
This time, when I sat up, the pain wasn’t as sharp. More like a dull throbbing than a dagger jabbed into my femur. I gritted my teeth. “It hurts, but it’s manageable.”
I began to stand, but my leg wouldn’t work properly. I flapped my arms as I started to lose balance, but Galin caught me before I fell, and I slumped against his steely chest. He looped a powerful arm around my waist, then held me firmly as I tried to walk. But my leg kept buckling.
“Galin.” My voice cracked as I realized the implications of not participating. “I don’t think I can do it. My leg is shredded.”
I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. The Vanir had won. If I didn’t participate, I was as good as dead. The bottom fifty percent of runners were to be executed.
Carefully, Galin helped me sit on the edge of the bed. Then, he knelt. “Let me see.”
He pulled the hem of my hospital gown up, lifting it above my thighs. In the center of my leg, a jagged gash had been stitched shut with black thread.
“Let me have a look at the wound.”
I nodded.
He grimaced. “Looks deep, but it doesn’t seem to be infected, just inflamed, I think. If I wrap it up, that’ll help.” He looked up at me with pain in his eyes. “But even with the Vicodin, it’s going to hurt a lot. Are you sure?”
“Go for it.”
Galin stood quickly and hurried across the hospital room. After a minute of rummaging through a supply cabinet, he returned with bandages and a roll of medical tape. As he worked on my leg, warmth spread from where his hands touched my skin, and the pain subsided. He leaned in close as he worked, a strand of his hair brushing against my thigh. I stared at the masculine perfection of his powerful shoulders.
You know what? It was nice to have someone taking care of me.
“Okay,” he said after a minute or two. “Now, can you try standing?”
When he helped me up this time, it didn’t feel like someone was twisting a knife in my muscles. Even better, I was able to take a few tentative steps.
Smiling, I turned back to Galin. “Thank you. That’s a lot better.”
“Is everything okay in there?” came a male elf’s voice, followed by quieter, sharp whispering. I wondered if someone had let the insane doctor out.
“I’m fine!” I shouted back, stalling for time.
“I really must check on the patient! The King has asked that I see to it personally.”
I looked to Galin. “Can you get us out of here?”
In the next heartbeat, he was scribing the portal spell, and I was leaping through to the next trial.
Chapter 28
Galin
I stepped out of the portal and into a snowy alley. Ruddy evening sunlight slanted over the snow, painting it with orange. The shouting of elves echoed nearby, but I couldn’t see anyone. If any High Elves spotted me helping Ali, I would have a lot of explaining to do. Mentally, I reviewed what I knew of this particular trial. No magic allowed, no throwing projectiles. It was to be a race—nothing more, nothing less.
I was starting toward the sound of the elves when Ganglati whispered in my ear, When are you going to talk to her?
Soon, but not right now. I’m just trying to keep her alive.
The shade fell silent.
I crept toward the opening of the alley until I could see the white marble obelisk that loomed high above us atop Bunker Hill, gleaming gold in the setting sun. Before Ragnarok, it had been a historic monument in the center of the Charlestown neighborhood—a giant tower built to celebrate one of the first battles of the American Revolution. Back then, the colonists had held the hill through three assaults and killed nearly eleven hundred British soldiers while losing fewer than five hundred of their own men. I hoped that, like the colonists of 1775, the Night Elves had devised a plan that gave them an advantage.
If they had, I couldn’t imagine what it was.
At the moment, I could see the three tribes of elves huddling around the foot of the obelisk, waiting for the challenge to start.
Ali sidled up next to me. “What’s the plan?”
“You need to join the Night Elves before anyone sees you with me,” I whispered. “In the meantime, I’ll join the High Elves.”
Ali started forward, limping slightly. Worry tightened my throat as I watched her head into the snow, injured and alone. Surely, she’d incorporated some lethal trickery into the mysterious footrace the Night Elves had organized.
“Wait,” I called after her. “What are you planning? You do have a plan, right?”
“Of course we have a plan.”
“Care to share?”
She narrowed her eyes, then simply put a finger to her lips. “If I told you, I would have to kill you.” She started back into the snow, but after a few steps, she slowed, turning back to me. She spoke in a near whisper, like she was afraid someone might hear her. “I’ll give you one hint, okay?”
I nodded.
“Bring a torch.”
I arched a quizzical eyebrow, then nodded again. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I would bring a torch, even though the warning itself unnerved me.
As she limped away through the snow, the sun dipped below the horizon. A violet dusk began to settle over Bunker Hill. What was the torch for? I stood still, trying to puzzle it out. It wasn’t night out yet; we wouldn’t need it to see.
Unless—
“Oh no.”
I reached the crowd of elves just as a spell shot into the air. With a crack, it exploded like a firework. A Night Elf in a striped official’s shirt yelled at the top of his lungs, “Go, go, go!”
Around me, Vanir, Night Elves, and High Elves surged forward. We were already starting, apparently.
I broke into a sprint, my feet kicking up clouds of snow as we careened down the hill in an enormous wave. Around me, some of the others were sliding in the snow, tripping over each other. We were competing not only against the Night Elves, but against each other. Half of all the runners would be executed. I spotted some distinctly unsportsmanlike behavior—kicking the fallen, throwing elbows.
“Galin!” called out Revna’s lilting voice. I turned to see her coming up behind me as we reached the bottom of the hill. “Where have you been?”
I shrugged. “Here and there.”
The rest of the tribes had joined us now, and we ran together, the competition fierce and fast. A group of three Vanir passed close to us, and Revna emitted a little chirp of excitement.