“Get us the hell out of here,” Erik snarls at Karl. “If any of these people were to smash hard into the three of you . . .” He doesn’t have to finish, though. We already know what hell we’d suffer through, since it’s already started to happen.
I’ve been bumped into at least a dozen times already, and each jostle makes my already shallow breath harder to find. The effects of my pain pills are coming to a close, making each uneven step one I’d rather not take. The agony in my thigh threatens to completely overtake me. As curling into a ball and crying until I pass out on the street below us isn’t an option, I push myself forward, alongside Will and Karl who are in similar boats as I am.
Only, a hundred feet take five, grueling minutes to traverse. My head swims in sharpening agony. I stumble on the sidewalk, and my wounded leg buckles under me. Nell barks furiously. Will and Erik grapple to catch me, but the jerking motions steal the air right out of my head.
And then I do something incredibly, pathetically embarrassing. I collapse right there in front of hundreds of Magicals and flashing cameras and cellphone videos. Worse yet, when I look up, I see a nightmare from the past—gorgeous Sophie Greenfield standing just a few feet away, malicious anger flashing in her eyes.
What is she doing here?
She turns on her heels and disappears back into the crowd. As I track her departure, a flash of white hair catches my eyes. Is that—
“I’ve got you,” Will grunts, his voice echo-y but still solid. But he’s hurting, too, and stumbles just as surely as I did as he tries to pick me up.
“The hell you do,” Erik says above me. “Pick her up and we’ll be having to carry your sorry ass out of here, too. Cameron?”
“I’ve got her, son.” Cameron materializes to rest a hand on his son’s tender shoulder. “Erik’s right. Karl’s on his last wind, too. We need to get out of here as fast as we can. Here, take Nell.” And then the man I see as my father picks me up and carries me the rest of the way to the hospital.
Kate Blackthorn, Shaman extraordinaire, is not currently in Annar at present. Zthane Nightstorm, who met us in the lobby, informs our small group that she’s currently on assignment back on the Human plane. I try not to think about what she’s doing—Kate’s renown for her work with debilitating, nasty viruses. Instead, Sjharn Thunderbridge, the Guard’s lead Shaman, is the one to meet us in the room Zthane had reserved. He looks exactly as I remember him: stern, with a craggy face and skin so dark green it’s nearly black.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say there was a leak about Councilwoman Lilywhite’s return,” he says to Zthane in a deeply accented voice as he washes his hands in the nearby sink.
Will, who is sitting on the couch next to Karl, is outright staring at Sjharn like he doesn’t know what to think or say. I’d told him about Goblins, and of all the other races, but I know it’s got to be a shock for him. Cameron and Erik are sitting on an adjacent couch, quietly talking to one another, not bothered in the least by who’s joined us in the room. But then, both have lived in Annar before, leaving Will the odd man out.
Zthane leans out of the door, shouting orders at somebody outside about the consequences if anybody he hasn’t approved first comes within three hundred feet of the room. Then, once the door is firmly shut behind him, he says to Sjharn, “No kidding. Heads are going to roll when I get back to the office. What a mess.” He sighs, then focuses on me. “Hello, Chloe. I cannot tell you how happy I am to have you back in Annar in one piece.”
Sjharn blocks my view when I wheeze a greeting in return. “Leave the girl alone, Nightstorm. You can talk to her when I’m done.”
Karl lets out a laugh from where he’s sitting when Zthane sputters in indignation, but it’s short. He winces, his good hand automatically going to his chest. “Remind me to never go on a mission without a Shaman again.”
Sjharn says nothing as he presses his large but thin hands against my thigh. I jolt from the initial pain, but it melts away as he starts to work on me.
No offense to Erik, but I’ve got to agree with Karl here.
“It’s funny,” Zthane says evenly, “but you never mentioned until two hours ago that you all were going to need to come to the hospital. I wonder why that is? Especially since the three of you look like you’ve been put through meat grinders.”
There’s a beat of silence in the room before Karl says, “I figured—”
But I cut him off. Technically, I outrank every single person in this room. And the truth is, Will and Karl wouldn’t be as injured as they are had it not been for me. “We were in a skirmish with some Elders.”
His hands don’t leave my body, but I can hear Sjharn’s breath suck in in surprise. Zthane’s does, too.
Will finally speaks up. He scoffs, “Skirmish? Is that what that was? Funny, I thought it more like a bloody life or death battle.”