Don’t cause problems for your Night Elf, whispered Ganglati. If you’re distracted by her misfortunes, you’ll never steal the wand.
Fuck off, Ganglati.
A group of Night Elves surrounded Ali, blocking my view of her. My heart ached. I desperately wanted to be by her side, to do something to help her.
I spoke to Thyra, using the calmest voice I could manage. “I’ve sent for a doctor. Will you at least allow her to get medical help?”
Thyra nodded. “I’ll permit it.”
I let out a long breath. The royal doctor was highly trained. I felt a sense of relief knowing that Ali would be in her care.
I turned away from the Night Elves, shadows sliding through my thoughts. I’d seen the hawk interfere with the javelin. That could be no coincidence. This had been a second assassination attempt. The Vanir were determined to kill Ali; they didn’t give a fuck about the Winnowing.
I would find the ones who had given the order. The Regent could run now, but when I caught him, he’d regret the day he was born.
Chapter 27
Ali
When I first opened my eyes, I didn’t know where I was. All I knew was that I was in a bed, but it wasn’t a familiar one. The paint on the ceiling was a deep blue flecked with stars, and the air smelled strangely antiseptic.
I lifted my head high enough to see windows framed by white muslin curtains. I wasn’t in my room, and the sunlight meant it wasn’t the Shadow Caverns.
“Hello?” I called out.
No one answered.
I was very tired, but I tried to sit up anyway. Instantly, pain lanced up my leg, and I flopped flat on my back.
I remembered bits and pieces of the morning—drinking coffee for the first time. Then, a few minutes later, I’d had to threaten Bo. Again. After that, it went fuzzy. My mind felt mushy, like half my brain had been replaced with stale porridge.
I concentrated and managed to scrounge up a few more memories. They were hazy, but I was certain I’d been outside. There had been lots of elves. I was pretty sure Galin had been shouting …
I shut my eyes tight as I tried to bring the thoughts into focus, but all I could see was his golden hair, his piercing eyes. He’d been worried about me.
“Miss?” said a melodious voice.
I opened my eyes. An elf stood beside me. She wore a gray cotton smock, and her golden hair was pulled up tight against her head. A High Elf.
Am I a prisoner? Do I need to call Skalei?
I tried to sit up, but the same excruciating pain kept me from moving more than a few inches.
“Stay still,” said the High Elf in dulcet tones.
Considering I couldn’t sit up, I decided to opt for a less bloody approach. “Who are you? What happened to me?” Gods, it even hurts to talk.
“My name is Budli. I’m the royal doctor of the Citadel. I’ve been looking after you since the accident.”
“What accident? Where am I?”
“You were injured on the roof of the Citadel.”
The mention of an injury and the roof of the Citadel brought forth a rush of fresh memories. Now, I very clearly remembered standing in a group of Night Elves. Something had fallen from the afternoon sky and slammed into me like a bolt of lightning. Galin had been shouting. Thyra had been there …
“I need to speak to Thyra,” I said.
“Not yet. You need to sleep.”
I could feel panic growing in me. “What time is it?”
“Nearly six in the evening.”
I gasped, the foot race was going to start in less than twenty minutes. “I have to get up. I can’t stay here.”
“Absolutely not. You must rest. Your tendons are shredded. That is my medical assessment.”
“If I don’t go to Bunker Hill, I’ll be out of the Winnowing.”
“That’s nice, dear.” The doctor leaned over me and placed a hand firmly on my shoulder. Despite her words, her voice had taken on a malevolent tone. “But you’re staying here.”
Behind her, the air began to flicker. I struggled to sit up even as the doctor leaned over me, both of her hands on my shoulders, holding me down. Pain screamed up my thigh.
“Tunnel elf,” she whispered. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Light flashed behind the doctor, and the scent of ozone filled the room as a portal split the air. She spun with a shriek.
Galin stepped from the portal, his blond hair whirling around his head like a lion’s mane.