I felt his muscles shifting under me as he tensed, powerful arms encircling me. Draugr banged on the door, but Galin leaned against it, holding it shut.
“Ali.” He was still catching his breath. “Do you think you can find something to jam the door? An old pipe, a piece of wood….”
I scanned the interior of the side tunnel, finding it unfortunately empty. “Nothing.”
“Shit.”
Behind him, the door shook with the pounding fists of draugr. My pulse raced out of control.
I looked up and down the escape tunnel, double checking that I hadn’t missed anything. A few motes of dust hung in the air above the ancient subway tile. This place had probably been empty since Ragnarok.
“Wait,” I said, excitement rising in my voice. “Why don’t you just create a portal? No one can see us use magic here.”
Galin arched an eyebrow. “I don’t love cheating.”
Panic was making my heart race, and frustration crackled down my nerve endings. “What if we’re about to be eaten by the undead, though? There’s a time and place for honor, but this isn’t it.”
He sucked in a sharp breath. “I can make exceptions.”
“Do you know where the Old State House is?”
“Probably best not to be seen stepping out of a portal right in front of the finish line.” Galin paused for a moment. “I could get us to Faneuil Hall, just around the corner. Can you stand? I’ll need my hands free to do the spell.”
I wasn’t sure if I could, but I had to try. Carefully, I unlinked my hands from Galin’s neck and slid to the floor.
Putting weight on my leg sent fresh agony rocketing up my thigh, but I forced myself to do it. The draugr must have heard the movement, because on the other side of the exit door, they began to unleash ravenous screams. I could see Galin’s shoulders and legs straining with effort as the undead slammed themselves into the metal.
I stared as he scribed glowing runes in the air. Moments later, the portal shimmered before us—a magical safety exit.
“Go.” He nodded at it. “I’ll be right behind you.”
The draugr screamed, and the door shook behind Galin as if it were being repeatedly struck by a wrecking ball. I dove through the portal, landing on a snowy street. White hot pain lanced up my leg, but I still spun, waiting for Galin to arrive.
Instead, I stared in horror as the portal shimmered for a second, then disappeared with an electric crackle.
No. The scent of ozone washed over me, and my heart went still for a moment.
I could see exactly what he’d done, and I hated him for it. He had tricked me, again. He’d known that as soon as he moved his back from the door, the draugr would fling it open before he could make his way through the portal. They would tear him to pieces, and then they’d charge through the portal after me.
So, he’d simply closed it as soon as I’d passed through. He’d sacrificed himself for me.
Gods, this wasn’t how I’d imagined any of this playing out.
I clenched my fists, my entire body trembling with shock, tears welling in my eyes. I should have seen what he was up to. I had no way to get to him right now, no way to help. At this point, all I could do was hope that he found a way out of there, despite the odds.
Worry electrified my mind.
Suddenly, I heard the distant shouts of elves. The Old State House must be close by.
I looked around, taking in my surroundings for the first time. Galin had dropped me in the shadow of an ancient statue. Though it was encrusted in ice and snow, it appeared to be a man with his arms crossed.
I looked away as a bestial howl rent the frigid air. Not elves this time. Draugr.
I stood, using the plinth for support, even as pain splintered my leg. I’d been stabbed before—Hel, I’d had my finger cut off—but this was different. Each step was like getting stabbed with the javelin all over again.
Gritting my teeth, I began to shuffle towards the Old State House. I could see it in the distance, now, an old red brick building with a large marble balcony. A group of elves stood in front, a mix of gasping runners and officials dressed in striped shirts.
As I shambled towards them, I tried to block out the pain, but I found my mind kept going back to Galin. I was trying to picture him fighting his way out of there, as if imagining it could make it happen.
It hadn’t been that long since I’d planned to kill him myself. But now, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. When I’d thought he’d betrayed me, it meant everything had been a lie. That he’d put up the wall to help us. That he’d help me free the Night Elves. Killing him had seemed imperative to freeing my people.
But if he hadn’t sent the letter—if he’d spoken the truth—maybe he wasn’t the monster I’d been raised to believe he was.
I believed him when he said the letter hadn’t been his.
It seemed impossible, but he was trying to help me. He’d just sacrificed himself for me, hadn’t he?
Already, guilt was eating at me. If I hadn’t been there, slowing him down with my ravaged leg, he’d already be here. Safe. I swallowed hard, trying to stay focused.
When I was about twenty yards from the finish line, the elves began to cheer. I recognized Thyra and Ilvis. Even Bo was there.
I looked at Thyra as I shuffled through the snow. “How many?”
Thyra looked down State Street. “If you hurry, you’ll be number one hundred and forty-six.”
I could feel blood streaming down my leg under my leather pants.
Clenching my jaw, I pushed forward. Twenty, ten, five yards remained. I gasped for air like a dying fish, but my leg wouldn’t keep going. I tumbled forward into the snow.
I was going to die here. Even before they had a chance to execute me, the cold or the blood loss or the draugr would get me.
But Galin had sacrificed himself for me. I wouldn’t let this chance go to waste.
Keep going, North Star.
The words emanated from somewhere deep in my brain. I pushed myself up on to my elbows. Army crawling the last three yards, I crossed the finish line at last.
I fell flat in the snow, breathing deeply. Thyra crouched by my side, and I groaned. I must have been moving on shattered bones.
“That was something else,” said Thyra.
I grimaced again at the pain. “I don’t fuck around.”
I wanted to ask her if she’d seen Galin, if he’d managed to get here, but that was probably a bad idea. So, I pushed myself up, scanning the snow drifts for him.
I’m pretty sure that was when I blacked out, because the next thing I remember, I found myself propped against a rusted fire hydrant. I heard the elves cheering, saw them pointing down State Street. I concentrated, willing my eyes to focus. A single Vanir ran toward us.
“Last one!” shouted a Night Elf standing next to me.
“What do you mean?” My voice sounded distant and hollow. How much blood have I lost, exactly?
“We’re at two hundred twenty-six elves! This is the final one! The rest will die in an execution.” She clapped her hands.
Panic climbed up my throat, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I looked up at the Night Elf. “Is Galin here?”
“The High Elf prince? I haven’t seen him.” She grinned. “Let’s hope he got eaten by the draugr, right?”