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.
She rushed forward, her dagger gleaming. She struck, and one of the Vanir fell, clutching his lower back. He shouted to his companions, and they slowed, reaching for their weapons, but Revna danced out of their way.
“Gods, this is fun!” shouted Revna gleefully as she rejoined me.
I pumped my arms, focusing only on the race. “Save your energy, sister,” I said in a harsh whisper, just loud enough that only she could hear.
There would be worse things to fight than the Vanir today.
A minute later, we raced down Winthrop Street and past the Old Training Field. In the 18th century, it had been a practice area for colonial militias. Now, it lay frozen under the snows of Ragnarok.
We were just turning onto Park Street when I heard the first guttural shouts. Even though I’d been expecting them, my skin crawled.
“Galin,” said Revna, still running next to me, “what’s that sound?”
The reason why Ali had suggested torches. And in the next moment, Revna understood the reason for herself.
“Draugr!” she shouted.
A ripple of fear was already passing through the running elves. Even if they’d never actually seen one in the flesh, the bestial shouts of the draugr were enough to turn anyone’s blood to ice. Cries of “Draugr!” began to fill the air.
I glanced over my shoulder. Undead corpses poured from the alleys behind us. I turned, watching with a feeling of nausea as a draugr descended on an injured Vanir. Their shouts became a frenzy of feral screams. Blood sprayed the frozen street.
The draugr paused for a moment, but the taste of blood sent them surging forward the next, teeth gnashing, ravenous cries echoing in the frigid air.
But it wasn’t the sound of draugr that chilled me to the core. It was a woman’s scream—a voice I immediately recognized.
I spun in time to see Ali fighting a group of Vanir. Even as the draugr bore down, the dark-haired warriors had surrounded her. With my heart slamming, I raced across the street to help her.
I saw Skalei flash as Ali stabbed a Vanir in the neck, but there were too many for her to take alone, in her state. Ten at least. One of them pushed her from behind, and she stumbled. A dagger glinted in the evening light as one of the warriors lunged.
But I’d reached her just in time. I drove my shoulder into the Vanir’s chest, sending him crashing into a snowbank. Another leapt on me, but I threw him off. Even as we fought, the draugr gained on us.
I heard Ali call Skalei. She fought them in a frenzy of whirling snow and silver hair, ducking and slashing, dagger glinting. As one after another attempted to flank her, I snapped their necks.
When her attackers all lay dead, I held my hand out to her. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so,” she said, panting. She started forward, then stumbled, clutching her injured thigh. Then, with wide eyes, she
turned to look at the draugr. They were only fifty feet away, barreling forwards in a cannibalistic frenzy of leathery skin.
Adrenaline coursing through me, I grabbed one of the dead Vanir by the legs and spun round like a shot-putter, throwing him at the incoming horde. They slowed to eat him, buying us time.
Ali was gripping her thigh, and she’d sliced her pant leg open to look at her injury. She gritted her teeth, grunting. The stitches had ripped open, and blood pumped from the wound. She wouldn’t be able to run anymore.
Panic coiled through my mind.
“Galin,” she snarled. “I can’t run. You need to go.”
As if I’d leave her.
My heart hammered as I glanced back at the draugr, who had almost finished consuming the Vanir I’d thrown their way. Twenty seconds at best before they were upon us.
I crouched down, then scooped Ali up. She grunted as I moved her, but she gripped me tightly.
I broke into a sprint, flying down State Street. I didn’t have time to consider what would happen when the High Elves realized I was helping her, but I was going to carry Ali to the Old State House if it was the last thing I did.
Five minutes later I was racing down the icy remains of Interstate 93 with Ali tight in my arms, the horde of draugr hot on my heels. Ali clung to me, her arms wrapped around my neck.
We crossed the Zakim Bridge, my feet slamming against the frozen pavement, and I careened down toward the Central Artery. This was a massive tunnel the humans had constructed before Ragnarok, and it now lay empty, icy ruins of another time.
I sprinted inside, starting to catch up to the other elves. Darkness enveloped me until the shadows were completely impenetrable.
“Ali. I’m going to need your help. I can’t see a thing.”
Her silver eyes shone in the darkness. “Just keep going straight. I’ll tell you if anything gets in your way. I see people moving up ahead. I think we’re catching up to the slowest elves.”
Icy air filled my lungs, and I clutched Ali close. But the draugr were moving fast, too. Behind us, their voices began to echo off the walls as they entered the tunnel.
Worst of all, I thought I heard them in front of us, too.
“This isn’t good,” I said between breaths.
“There are more up ahead.”
Suddenly, the tunnel echoed with the screams and shouts of elves in front of us. I was starting to understand the plan. The Night Elves could see down here just fine, but everyone else was practically blind.
In front of me, I spotted the exit ramp leading out to Government Center, the shortest route to the Old State House. At its base, a second pack of draugr had descended on the approaching elves.
I slowed as I tried to devise a plan. “This is really the plan you came up with, Ali?”
She shot me a sharp look. “I know it’s not pretty, but the point was to win, so that the Night Elves can live.”
Fair enough.
I stopped looking around the tunnel. I needed a bigger weapon, or something I could light on fire. Fear condensed in my veins, as I heard the draugr closing in. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Trying to save us. I didn’t have time to grab a torch. You don’t have anything flammable, do you?”
“No. The plan was for Night Elves to avoid them with our night vision.”
“Well, I can’t exactly use a fire spell with the no magic rule.” I spun, trying to scan the shadowy tunnel interior. It wasn’t much to look at. Rusty husks of ancient cars, chunks of concrete, ancient signage. Nothing I could use to start a fire. “What we need is another way out.”
Behind us, I could hear the raspy calls of the draugr, closing in on us.
“There,” said Ali suddenly.
She pointed to a dark alcove in the tunnel wall. Squinting, I could see the dim outline of a door. Painted above it, in faded letters, were the words EMERGENCY EXIT.
“I’d say this qualifies as an emergency.”
The draugr were only a few yards away as I raced towards the exit. If it was locked, I wouldn’t have time to break it down.
I ran with all the strength I had. In only moments, the draugr would be upon us, ripping into our bodies with their wizened, leathery hands.
Chapter 29
Ali
Galin slammed through the door, then kicked it closed, pushing his enormous body against it. I clung to his neck as my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the side tunnel. Somehow, when I was close to him, I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin, smelled the scents of flowers. In the hollows of my mind, I even knew their names: lilac, honeysuckle, wild rose. It was like the world came alive again when I was close to him.
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?”
Ruined King (Night Elves Trilogy Book 2) Page 13
