Warden Hallum didn’t seem to think that required a response, keeping his gaze focused ahead as he took us off of the property and onto the trail that would lead us out of the forest. I gripped the sled rails, beaming, feeling like a kid again as the sun-spangled trees rolled merrily by on either side of the trail.
This was definitely faster than the wagon had been last night. We zipped easily along, the skis of the sled gliding over the snow. Briefly, I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the snow splitting under the skis, the hooves of the shuldu, and the occasional command from Warden Hallum be the magical soundtrack of the morning. Light and shadow moved in contrasting shapes across the thin skin of my eyelids.
When I opened my eyes next, we’d cleared the densest part of the forest. Trees were more spaced out, and soon they only stood on one side of the trail, which felt a bit more like a road now. If I leaned sideways out of the sled and squinted, I was fairly certain I could make out Rivven’s saloon in the distance. The wood building became clearer with each clomping step of the shuldu.
When we reached it, Warden Hallum didn’t stop. He urged the shuldu onwards, a little ways passed the saloon to a broad, empty area that had been marked with several wooden posts.
Dismounting, he came to the side of the sled. Being so low to the ground, it was harder to get off of this thing than I’d anticipated. Without a word, he held out his hand to me.
“I think I can do it,” I said, scooting down to the front part of the sled so the side rails weren’t in my way.
“I am sure you could,” he said. “But I would prefer it if you took my hand.”
He bent a bit, moving his hand closer to me, as if to keep it in my line of sight and not let me forget that it was there.
“Well, if you insist…”
I took it.
Something strange happened then. I’d touched his hand before. It was still the same hand, with the fabric of my glove creating a barrier between us.
That barrier didn’t seem to matter much.
It was as if the physical connection between us had lit a little spark at the base of my spine. And from that spark came an ensuing inferno, using my own squishy insides as its kindling. The intensity of my physical response to his touch alarmed me, and my instinct was to pull my hand away. My arm tensed to do it.
But he’d already closed his big fingers firmly over mine.
I couldn’t tear my gaze from our connected hands. Mine looked so small in his. So covered. So protected.
Dimly, I was aware that I was supposed to be moving. Getting up. But I suddenly just couldn’t. I sat there, like a lump on a log. A Lualhati on a sled.
Either out of impatience for my sudden statue act, or maybe a healthy dose of concern, Warden Hallum leaned down further. His other arm went around my waist, which did absolutely nothing to quell the insides-on-fire thing currently happening to me. Just as easily as he’d handled the sled before, he lifted me up and set me carefully on my feet.
He didn’t release me right away. He kind of held me in a tense almost-hug, my nose pressed to the front of his shirt. There was that lovely Hallum fragrance of his again, cooled today by the scent of snow.
“Alright?”
No.
“Yes!”
He did let go of me then, but slowly, as if testing my balance for me. When he pulled back, his brows were drawn down over his eyes. At first glance, he might have looked annoyed. But there was an intense, searching quality in his gaze as it roved over my face. I cleared my throat and nodded jerkily. “All good. Sorry about that.”
Abruptly, I turned away, flinging my arm out over the field with its posts. “Tell me more about this!”
I could feel him watching me from the side. After about a hundred years, he finally faced forward.
“This is the hospital site,” he said. “As you can see, we are quite behind.”
I could practically feel the seething in him then. He was not pleased about this project getting delayed. I waved my hand in what I hoped was a comforting gesture of dismissal.
“Not to worry,” I said. “From what I understand, our first human-Zabrian baby won’t be arriving for a few months yet. How will Darcy get here?” I hadn’t actually thought about that until now. But I knew just how fast babies could come shooting out of somebody when all the conditions were right. If we were relying on sleds and wagons to get labouring women to the hospital, that could pose a big problem.
“I have ordered an ambulance extension to the slicer,” Warden Hallum said. Obviously, he’d already considered this aspect of things.
“With the extension,” he explained, “I will be able to upgrade the slicer to hold a patient and two other adults at the closed back compartment. The engine will also be upgraded, achieving much higher speeds than before. So a journey that might have taken days will now take half a day or less.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said. “And that way, I can go see patients on an emergency basis at their own homes as well if needed.”
