Yep, it was embarrassing. There I was, running off to play the hero, with my men and friends calling for me to stop while a bunch of annoying owls watched impassively, and how do I get taken out? A pit. A trap anyone could have laid. Granted, there was an illusion laid over the pit—one that dispersed as soon as I fell through it—and if it hadn't been me, someone else would have likely fallen in. But still, it was a pit with a bunch pointy sticks—that's it.
As I fell, I thought to myself that my injuries would be minor. I had set off a trap that I'd survive and the others could now bypass. There was a positive side to my humiliation. But I didn't see the spikes. You'd think I would have noticed a bunch of sharpened poles but falling tends to happen quickly and when I slipped on the edge of the pit, I'd twisted so that I fell face-up. All I saw was stone, no spikes. But I felt them.
My screaming roar echoed through the tunnel as I was speared through at shoulder and hip. My dragon went wild, instinctively recognizing that this was something extremely bad for us. I suppose it was lucky that I didn't get speared through my heart, but a huge pole cracking my shoulder blade and hip bone as it blasted through me—helped by my momentum—was even more painful than a stake through the heart. I know this for certain as well.
“Vervain!” I couldn't tell which of my men shouted, so many of them did.
Plus, there was a whole lot of pain distracting me—pain that made my vision go wonky and my stomach threaten to add vomit to my list of embarrassments. I struggled to pull myself up as faces appeared above me—blurry faces that nonetheless conveyed fear.
“I'm fine,” I whispered.
“You've got spikes sticking out of your body!” Viper shouted. “You arethe oppositeof fine.”
“Just give me a second,” I gasped.
I was losing a lot of blood. I had to get off those damn sticks, but I was too weak from the pain and blood loss to break the wood. I needed fire; it would heal me and burn away the meddlesome pokey things. I breathed a stream onto the pike at my shoulder but it charred without catching and the effort left me panting—even weaker than before.
“Stand back,” Re said in his commanding voice—the voice that had brought Egypt to its knees.
The men lining the rim moved aside as a halo of light drew closer. Re stepped forward, still playing the part of our living lantern.
I stared up at his gorgeous, glowing self and smiled through the pain. “Hey, firefly.”
My god healing was fighting desperately to help me but the best it could do was keep me conscious and restock my blood. The worst thing it did was attempt to knit my bones back together. This was bad because those bones still had spikes in them. I moaned as my mending shoulder blade jostled the spike, both of them creaking under the pressure.
Re scowled at me, his jaw clenching, and held his hands out, over the pit.
“No,” I stopped him. “Burning this much wood will fill the tunnel with smoke.”
“So what?” Re growled.
“Most of us aren't comfortable breathing smoke,” Finn said.
“Fuck your comfort.” Re held his hands out again. “You'll survive.”
“Just burn the ones in me,” I urged.
“Listen to her.” Odin grabbed Re's wrist. “Direct your fire at the base of the spikes, just above her body. Perhaps you can break them off with a minimum amount of burning.”
I moaned as my body tried to close its wounds again and failed. Those darn pesky pieces of wood were still in the way.
Re flinched at the sound of my pain, his expression trembling, then nodded crisply at Odin. He held his hands out once more but condensed his light into a small beam. The beam hit the spike at my shoulder and sliced through it in seconds. It fell away, barely missing my face, and knocked several other spikes over like bowling pins. Another flash and the second spike went the way of the first.
I tried to lift myself off the stumps and managed to get an inch before falling back into place with a ragged cry. Re jumped into the pit immediately, landing with his feet to either side of my waist. He bent and gently lifted me off the spike stumps. I grunted in agony, but Re kept going until I was free. Despite the sudden welling of blood, he cradled against his chest. I cried out and started to tremble uncontrollably, my body finally able to repair itself. Bones and flesh knit together and regrew while splinters the length of my pointer finger were expelled from my wounds. Re adjusted his hold—his palm accidentally hitting my healing hip, and I moaned.
“Be careful! You hold my heart in your arms, Sun God,” Odin snarled in a deep but strained voice.
“Mine as well, Oathbreaker,” Re snapped back, then looked down at me. “Are you all right, La-la?”
“Don't fight,” I whispered, my head lolling against Re's chest. The bleeding had stopped but my bones were still repairing themselves and I didn't have the energy to say more than that.
“Okay, smart guy, how are you going to get her out of there?” Viper growled.
“I may be the God of the Sun, but I rule the Earth as well,” Re declared, his voice going resonant as magic whirled out of him and around us.
The ground rose beneath Re's feet, soil filling in the pit as we were lifted to the height of the tunnel floor as smoothly as if we'd ridden an elevator.
“I didn't know you could do that,” I murmured as Re laid me down on the freshly-risen soil.
