The world lost its tunnel-vision focus, and Elliot remembered he was meant to be nice to Dale.
“It was nobody’s fault!” he announced. “Just one of those accidents that could happen to anyone.” Dale looked extremely surprised but extremely pleased. “Can we see him?” Elliot pursued, and made a gesture to Dale that might have been reminiscent of a mad scientist displaying his latest experiment. “This is Dale Wavechaser. If you mention his name, Luke will want us to come in.”
“Nope,” said the medic. “He’s asking for Elliot. That’s you, right?”
“Right,” said Elliot doubtfully. “But are you sure you should be listening to someone with head trauma? A large object hit him right in the noggin. I don’t mean to tell you your job, but he’s probably deeply confused.”
“Are you coming or not?”
“Oh my God, go!” said Dale. “Tell him I’m really sorry! Really sorry! Tell him you’re not mad at me! Put in a good word for me! I’m so sorry!”
It appeared Elliot had no choice. He trailed disconsolately out of the cabin after the medic. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Luke, but Elliot had some serious doubts about his ability as a ministering angel.
“Could Dale not come too? Luke is, like, totally in love with him. I am sure he would want to see Dale.”
“Terrific idea,” said the medic. “I can see you know a lot about head wounds. Lots of company is ideal. Let’s bring in the whole class.”
Elliot appreciated her dark sarcasm but was still left desolate. “Dale has a very soothing personality.”
“Are you sure you’re not the one in love with Dale Wavechaser?”
“Let me tell you, you wouldn’t be asking me that if you saw his test scores,” said Elliot. “They are obscenely dreadful. But, you know, okay, the thing is—”
He didn’t quite know how to say, I have the opposite of a soothing personality and only ever upset Luke and I should probably be kept away from everybody and put in the cruel-repartee dungeon.
The medic who did not care about anything did not care about his problems. She shoved Elliot inside the tent and departed, Elliot thought maybe to kill everyone left in the waiting cabin.
The day was drawing down to evening, but there was only a single candle guttering in a little bronze cup, lending the tent a flickering glow so as not to hurt Luke further. Luke was lying on a white pillow, looking dazed and helpless: his eyes unfocused and half open, trying and failing to prop himself up on one elbow. It was horrible to realize that Elliot had almost bought into the myth of the untouchable Luke Sunborn, found himself thinking about Luke the way everyone else did.
“Elliot?” Luke asked thickly.
“Shhh,” said Elliot, because it seemed like the right thing to say. He wasn’t sure it was: nobody had ever been there when he was sick. He hadn’t been taught what to do.
He poured Luke a glass of water and carried it carefully over to him, helping him sit up and putting the glass to his lips.
Luke drank the water obediently, then laid his head against Elliot’s shoulder with a little sigh. “Don’t be mean to me, okay?” he whispered.
“No,” Elliot promised. “I won’t be mean.”
After that evening, Elliot kept reminding himself that Serene wasn’t there to watch out for Luke. He reminded himself of all the reasons he’d been willing to go to the awful sporty table and all the reasons Luke had not wanted to be there. Luke did not like crowds of people, did not like new people, and did not trust anyone easily, even if everyone seemed to like and trust him on sight. Luke always tried to be good to people, and someone had to be good to him in return. There was nobody else: Elliot would have to do. Just until Serene got back.
The next morning, Elliot finally got a letter from Serene herself. He nobly did not read it, but carried it to the infirmary and Luke so they could read it together. Apparently Serene had been severely reprimanded, and also robbed of many privileges including writing implements, due to what her commander had described as “berserker frenzies.” Serene seemed rather proud about the whole thing.
They had a lot of things to do behind the scenes for the play. Myra turned out to be a harsh taskmistress. They had to paint all the scenery, help with the costumes, and build a balcony for the big romantic scene between Radiant and Jewel.
Luckily, Luke seemed to quite like painting scenery. This meant that Elliot was not abandoning Luke, nor forcing him to do anything that made him actively miserable. It also meant that Elliot could spend lots of time with Myra and earn her eternal gratitude. Two birds, one stone, thrown by a strategic genius who had no interest in throwing actual stones or harming actual birds.
When one of them was high up on the ladder painting, someone else on the ground had a rope tied to the paint bucket and their wrist so they could catch it and the person on the ladder could catch themselves. They had to implement this policy because of the time Myra was on top of the ladder and wobbled, tried to catch the paint and ended up falling right off.
Luke had caught her. Elliot had caught the bucket of paint with his face.
“You cannot be mad about that forever,” said Luke, painting the starry night of the balcony scene.
“It’s funny you should say that because being mad about it forever is my exact plan,” Elliot told him, and carefully painted the front clump of Luke’s fair hair dark blue. Luke ducked his head and grinned.
He had been extremely grateful that Luke was there to catch his lady love, because Elliot definitely could not have done it. He was, however, still going to punish everyone for the cruelty of the universe in directing the bucket of paint at him.
He had been painting odd bits of Luke and Myra for days. It was possible that was why Myra had gone up to the top of the ladder again. She looked down at them laughing, though, so Elliot didn’t think she minded. She was very fetching with scarlet paint streaked down one side of her face.
“Terrific,” said Adara, coming in to inspect their handiwork. Her tone, as always, was deeply sarcastic. It was one of the things Elliot liked best about her.
“Oh no, we need more blue paint, I’ll get it,” said Luke, and bolted.
Adara looked vexed. “The sets aren’t done and you’re all wasting paint. Getting in character already, Elliot?”
She referred to scandalous elven men who were no better than they should be and used cosmetics to adorn the contours of their chests.
“Is that a request for me to take my shirt off?”
“It’s a request for you not to mess things up. Do you think you’ll be able to pull off the dance between Radiant and Red Rose in the ball scene?” Adara asked.