Chapter Thirteen
Something warm struck Dell’s face, waking him from a half-slumber. A bird cawed overhead, but all he heard was the soft laughter coming from nearby.
He breathed in the salty air, lost in the sound.
Wait, salty air? Where was he?
He slid his eyes open slowly, the waning evening sun striking his eyes.
The events of the day came back to him. The Madran games. Fighting Orlo. Len.
He bolted up, hating himself the minute he did as pain ripped through his side.
Len’s laughter cut off. “Hey.” She approached him with a tentative hand out in front of her. “You should really lie back down.”
His eyes found her olive-toned face framed in wild dark curls and his breathing evened.
She bit her fist to muffle another laugh. “I’m sorry. It’s just… a bird used your face as a latrine
