78: The Next Day

The night was long for many.

Maddy Washburn lay in her bed at the Goldmine Inn staring up at the ceiling. She had been lying there for some hours, unable to sleep, unable to shut her mind off, not sure what her next move might be. In all her years of experience she had never encountered such a situation before and she was at a loss as to what to do. It would be hours before Tom Dunham called and she wasn’t even sure how to explain what she had discovered here. She wasn’t even sure what she had discovered here. None of it made any sense. Just who were these people anyway?

She sighed and rolled over on her side, willing herself to sleep, but the hands on the clock were inching their way toward two o’clock before she finally drifted off.

****

Artemus was given a different room on the third floor than the one he’d stayed in before, and lay in the bed thinking things through. He went over the events of that day in minutest detail, remembering every word, every look, every gesture any of them had made, wondering if he should’ve realized that something was wrong from the first, wondering if there was something he could’ve done differently than what he had done, wondering how he could’ve avoided the encounter with Farrell at the grotto. He recalled Fred Steiner saying something about his car and how he still had the keys. Perhaps he should’ve taken him up on the offer, and he might have except for the blizzard.

He sighed and rolled over, reminding himself that second-guessing never solved anything, that the important thing was that he and his friends were alive and safe and Farrell and his men were behind bars. For how long, that was certainly the question, but for now, he was content that they could not cause any more trouble.

With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

****

Derek glanced over at Zach, softly snoring and wished he could sleep as well. He was tempted to call the nurse and ask for something to help him relax but decided not to bother. Shifting his position slightly, he sighed as he sank further into the pillows and wondered what would happen now. He had heard about Farrell’s accusations against Amroth. If that so-and-so could actually prove that Amroth had killed Bradford that might really cause a great deal of trouble for them all and what would it mean for Elf Academy? He had no worries for himself. He could always return to Oakland and help his dad in his computer business even though that idea didn’t really attract him. He would much rather stay here and be an Elf Guide and maybe even find work with one of the resorts.

And what about his gwador? He had watched Alex become Artemus almost without thought, had seen his friend’s eyes darkening with cunning, becoming hard as he confronted Farrell and the others, competently ordering their escape. He worried that Alex, warm, affable and open, was gone, replaced by the disillusioned, cynical agent that was Artemus Meriwether. Stupid name, that. What mother in her right mind would name a kid Artemus? He much preferred Alex.

Well, anyway, he could only hope that when all this was over, Alex would return. He hoped that his friend would remember that they were gwedyr, brothers and more than brothers. He had to believe that, in the end, Alex would prevail. He just wasn’t sure what he would do if he did not.

He sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall, then reluctantly pressed the call button. Two minutes later the nurse arrived and he asked for a sleeping pill. Half an hour later, he was deep asleep.

****

Glorfindel ended up taking the middle watch along with Vardamir. Vorondur had convinced Findalaurë to return to Edhellond after he had spent the early hours of the evening by his atar’s side and had gotten Barahir to drive over and take the ellon home. It had been decided to take Alex’s suggestion to heart and toward that end, Glorfindel had contacted the Twins, asking them to help keep watch over Finrod. Even now, Elladan was standing guard outside ICU, chatting quietly with the nurses on duty. Elrohir would be there with Vorondur and Laurendil in a few hours to take the last watch.

He stood at the end of the bed watching Finrod sleep, thinking about all the times they had been together in Aman, the adventures they had had, the scrapes they had gotten into and out of, usually by the skin of their teeth. He chuckled to himself at that, then sighed, his expression more worried. So much time had passed in which they had gone their separate ways. He was not the same ellon who had cheerfully joined his gwador in one escapade after another. Nor, he suspected, was Finrod. They had both grown and he suspected that Finrod had been somewhat surprised at how he, Glorfindel, had changed over the millennia.

He had to admit that he had felt somewhat superior to his gwador and the other Valinórean Elves those first few days after their arrival as they struggled to adapt themselves to the new world in which they had found themselves. It was not a noble feeling, he freely admitted, but for a time…

He sighed, looking up at Vardamir whose attention was on the monitors quietly beeping. He had watched in fascination as the blood pressure cuff on Finrod’s arm had automatically inflated and then turned to the monitor to see what the numbers were. Vorondur had explained to him the significance of the data being displayed on the monitor and the former battle surgeon to the High King of the Noldor had grasped the concept of blood pressure and pulse and heart rate quickly, keeping a gimlet eye on the readings even as he used more elvish methods to determine Finrod’s present physical condition.

Vardamir turned around and gave Glorfindel a smile. “He is doing well. I can sense that his blood count is much higher, closer to normal. I think he will be able to leave this place later today or perhaps the next day. Yes. Another full day here would be a good thing. Of course, we have to convince him of that.” He gave the sleeping Finrod a fond look.

“Can you keep him in healing sleep until then?”

“Oh yes, but I will consult with my fellow healers before we make such a decision.”

The door to ICU opened and Elladan stepped in carrying a couple of styrofoam cups. “Here. One of the nurses made some real coffee for us.”

Glorfindel and Vardamir eagerly took the proffered cups and for a while the three of them stood around Finrod’s bed, enjoying the coffee and their fellowship. A few minutes later, Dr. Geoffrey Harris walked in to see how Finrod was doing.

“Don’t you ever go home?” Glorfindel asked him with a smile.

“Home? Now that sounds vaguely familiar.” Harris gave them a brief smile as they chuckled. “How’s he doing?” he asked.

“He sleeps and heals,” Vardamir answered. “I have been able to increase his production of blood to the point where he can be awaken tomorrow, perhaps even moved to another room.”

“I’ll need to order some blood work just to be sure. Do you recommend that he stay in the hospital rather than be released?” Harris asked.

“I will have to consult with the other healers who are more knowledgeable of these things but I think a day or three here will not be remiss. He still must recover from the wound and if I know my Lord Finrod, he will be wanting to be up and doing and most likely in his enthusiasm open the stitches and all our good work goes to naught.”

Harris nodded. “Then we’ll keep him here until you say otherwise. I will make arrangements for him to be moved to the ward tomorrow once you’ve brought him out of healing sleep... or, perhaps we’ll move him first.”

Both Vorondur and Vardamir nodded. “I think that might be wise,” Vorondur said. “We’ll hear fewer curses that way, if nothing else.”

They all chuckled at that. Dr. Harris turned to Vardamir. “I am told that you find our methods of healing to be fascinating.”

“Oh yes,” Vardamir said with much enthusiasm. “What you have accomplished with your machines to see the inner workings of your bodies and to be able to monitor their condition is quite amazing. Lord Glorfindel will tell you that while there are healers aplenty in Aman, there are few opportunities to ply our trade, especially these days. I once had to practically arm wrestle other healers for the privilege of setting Lord Finrod’s broken leg.” He laughed at the memory.

“From what I’ve learned about Aman, I’m surprised that there is any need of healers there,” Harris said.

“There was a time when every healer was needed, not so much to heal the bodies but the minds of those who finally Sailed. Their souls were much damaged by the experiences they suffered on these shores. And, of course, there were the Reborn.” He cast a bright smile at Glorfindel. “They tended to present us with their own problems. So, for a time, there was a great need for healers, but those times are past and unless an elfling suffers a hurt or someone is simply careless, there is little for us to do. Lord Irmo, however, has begun a training program for all healers in preparation for the Dagor Dagorath.”

“Similar to my training program, no doubt,” Harris said and Vardamir nodded. “Well, perhaps while you are here, you may wish to follow one of our doctors on his or her rounds tomorrow and we’ll even let you try your hand at diagnosing the patients using our technology.”

Vardamir’s eyes lit up with delight and it was agreed that he would be available for rounds at nine. Then Harris took his leave and the Elves continued their watch until they were relieved around two.

****

The next morning, they did indeed move Finrod to the ward, placing him in a private room. Glorfindel was there, as were Laurendil, Vardamir and Findalaurë. Dr. Stoner was also present as Vardamir brought the prince out of healing sleep. Finrod blinked open his eyes.

“Good morning,” Vardamir said with a smile.

“Where am I?” Finrod croaked as he struggled to sit up.

“No, do not move,” Stoner ordered. “We’ll raise the bed.” And he proceeded to do just that, much to Finrod’s bemusement. Laurendil then handed him some water, and he automatically reached with his right hand only to realize that it was attached to a tube. He stared at it in puzzlement as well as at the odd object clamped to his forefinger.

“It’s an IV drip,” Stoner explained. “We are pumping liquids into your body to help keep it hydrated. We’ll remove it later. For now, use your left hand, but carefully. Do not raise it any higher than your shoulder until your wound has healed sufficiently that there is no danger of it opening up.”

“And this?” Finrod asked, lifting his hand.

“That monitors your pulse,” Stoner explained. “We’ll remove that as well once we are sure you are stabilized.”

Finrod nodded and carefully took the cup with his left hand. “Suck on the straw,” Glorfindel said. “It’ll be easier and you won’t have to lift your arm too high. Yes, that’s it.”

Once he finished drinking as much as he could, Finrod handed the cup back to Laurendil and then settled back against the pillows. “What has happened?” he asked.

“Not much,” Glorfindel replied. “Farrell and the others are in custody, though two of them are here in the hospital under guard. They are handcuffed to their beds so they can’t leave. Derek and Zach are here as well, but they will be released this morning. Alex stayed at Edhellond last night. Dave Michaelson called me this morning to remind me that they all need to come to the station and make statements about what happened. Finda, Cal and Elennen will also need to make statements. I’ll go with them so they are not alone.”

“I wish to go as well,” Finrod said.

“Sorry, my lord,” Vardamir said, “but all your healers, both Mortal and Elves, have come to the consensus that you should remain here for a few days and recover.”

“Oh?” Finrod retorted. “I, too, am a healer, and I do not recall being consulted.”

“Healers always make the worst patients,” Laurendil said to the others, “and Finrod is the worst of them all. Be wary. He will attempt to leave on his own.”

“Not if one of us is always present to see that he keeps to his bed and obeys the doctors and nurses,” Glorfindel said with a grin as Finrod scowled at them all.

He was about to protest, when Findalaurë spoke up. “Please, Atto. You were hurt so badly that I feared for your life. Please do as the healers say, for me, if not for yourself. I... I do not know what I would do if anything happened to you, or how to explain it to Ammë.”

Finrod gave his son a fond smile. “I am sorry I caused you so much pain. And I would never wish for you to have to explain anything to your ammë. So, I will abide by the wishes of my healers, but I am not so ill that I cannot issue orders, am I?” He glanced at Vardamir.

“And what orders would those be?” the healer asked.

“As soon as I am released from this place, I wish to hold court. I need to have you, my brother, arrange matters for me,” he said, looking at Glorfindel.

“We’ll discuss it later,” Glorfindel said. “Right now, I do believe it’s time for your sponge bath. I see that the nurses are all ready for you.” He nodded towards a couple of nurses, one of them male, both of them donning gloves. The female nurse went to the sink and began filling a plastic tub with water while the male nurse came over, giving them all a smile. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up and then we’ll get you some breakfast. If you-all will excuse us.”

Everyone nodded and started to leave. Finrod’s expression was one of horror. “No!” he shouted. “Don’t leave.”

“Sorry, gwador,” Glorfindel said, though the wide grin on his face belied his words. “Don’t worry. These are professionals and you’re not the first patient they’ve ever had to wash. Just lie back and don’t make a fuss. We’ll be back later.”

As they exited the room, the female nurse pulled the privacy curtain all the way around and they heard the male nurse say, “Now just lie back and relax and we’ll be done shortly.” Finrod’s response was a barrage of curses in a mixture of Quenya and Sindarin that were cut off with a gasp, followed by a groan and Glorfindel could well imagine the embarrassment his gwador must be feeling at that moment. He glanced at the others and saw amused smiles on their faces.

“Healers make the worst patients,” Laurendil said and they stifled their laughter as they heard Finrod cursing again even with the door closed.

****

Glorfindel, with Findalaurë in tow, looked in on Derek and Zach to see how they were doing and found Alex (as he still insisted on thinking of him) there as well. He and Derek were standing outside the room while one of the nurses was going over Zach’s discharge papers with him. Derek already had his discharge papers in hand, clutching a plastic bag with souvenirs as he called them: a water pitcher and basin (both pink) and toiletries. Peeking into the room Glorfindel could see that Zach still looked pale but rested, while Derek looked a bit groggy and, when Glorfindel asked, he admitted that he’d had to resort to a sleeping pill.

“Couldn’t shut my mind off,” he said quietly. “I had too much time on my hands and too much to think about.”

“How are you doing, Alex?” Glorfindel asked. “Did you sleep well? I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you got up.”

“No one was there,” Artemus said, “and I’m doing fine. This sort of thing is old hat for me. So where was everyone?”

“You forget that we still have tours to run,” Glorfindel reminded him. “I was at the Grange Hall with Conan and Daisy coordinating things, making sure all the families and students were accounted for while Sarah, Dan and Roy were at the Academy coordinating things at that end. Amroth left at dawn for Fairbanks to bring Della, Misty and Alfa home. He was planning to spend the day there and they’ll return tomorrow. The Valinórean Elves as a rule tend to wander in and out at all hours. As they have no duties as yet, they pretty much do whatever they please and most of them prefer to wander through the nearby woods.”

“What happened with the tours from yesterday?” Derek asked.

“They’ve been rescheduled for next Monday,” Glorfindel replied. “That blizzard struck early enough in the day that most of the tours barely got started.” He looked at Alex. “You still need to do yours as well.”

Artemus shook his head. “Game over,” was all he said.

Glorfindel frowned. “Do you think so? Would you truly disappoint your family a second time? If you had seen them, standing there all alone after all the other families had gone with their Elf Guides — the mother looking anxious and the father just looking embarrassed and the children....” He shook his head. “Whether you decide to remain afterwards or not, you owe us, you owe me, that tour.”

“Even if I wanted to do it, and frankly, I do not, do you seriously think Maddy is going to let me stay here after this? She’s more likely to order me back to Washington for debriefing.”

“If you do not wish to do the tour, I will do it for you,” Findalaurë said and the others looked at him in surprise.

“You?” Artemus exclaimed.

Findalaurë nodded. “Vorondur allowed me to look at your tour plan, for I wished to compare it to the one I created based on the information the family gave you. I was curious to see how similar or different we were in our thinking.”

“So which plan was the better one, his or yours?” Derek asked with a smile.

“Vorondur said they were both equally good when I asked him,” Findalaurë replied. “But I would do the tour as you had planned it, Alex, if you do not wish to do it yourself.”

Artemus remained silent for a time, giving the ellon a considering look. Finally he spoke. “You’ve come a long way from the arrogant brat I first met at Wild Lake,” he said, then turned to Glorfindel. “If I am not able to do the tour because I’m on my way to Washington, Lawrence can take it over. I have every confidence that he will do an excellent job.”

Findalaurë looked both pleased and stunned by the unexpected praise. Glorfindel just nodded. “Well, we have the rest of the week to figure it out. Now, I know that Dave Michaelson wants you, Derek and Zach to report to the police station for statements this morning.”

“We’ll be heading over there once these two are ready to leave,” Artemus said, all business again. “What about Lawrence, Cal and Alan? Don’t they need to make statements?”

“Yes. I will be taking them over later. Right now, we’re waiting for them to finish giving Finrod his bath and breakfast.” He gave them a wicked grin and the two Mortals snorted in amusement.

“I bet he’s not a happy camper this morning,” Derek said.

Zach walked out of the room along with the nurse just then, greeting Glorfindel and Findalaurë. Glorfindel asked how he was doing as the nurse left them to find a couple of wheelchairs.

“Okay,” he replied. “I’m only glad they broke my left arm. I was sure they were going to beat me to death, at least that was the way it felt at the time.”

“And I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Artemus said sincerely. “It’s my fault. I should’ve been paying more attention. I should’ve picked up on the fact that things weren’t what they seemed to be, but I was so busy mentally reviewing the tour that I pretty much blanked everything out.”

“Not your fault,” Zach insisted. “Don’t forget, they picked me up as I was walking to the Grange Hall. You wouldn’t have known about that.”

“Perhaps, but as for the rest....”

“As for the rest, it is past and no one died,” Glorfindel said firmly. “You can not change what has happened, so concentrate on the present. You were speaking about quitting the spy business. Do you still intend to do so?”

“Yes. I’ve had enough of it,” Artemus replied with some heat. “But I can’t just walk away. I’ll need to be debriefed on this assignment and I may have a fight on my hands as Maddy and others try to keep me from walking.”

“I’m sure something can be done to expedite matters,” Glorfindel said, but he did not elaborate.

The nurse came back with an orderly, both of them pushing wheelchairs. “So if you’re ready to go, hop on,” she said with a grin.

“I’ll go bring the car around to the front,” Artemus said.

“And we need to check in on Finrod again,” Glorfindel said. “We’ll catch up with you later.” With that he and Findalaurë made their way back to Finrod’s room where they found the prince in a sour mood as he sat in a chair. The IV had been removed, but he was still hooked up to the monitors and a blood pressure cuff was on his right arm.

“Never have I suffered such indignities,” he complained. “I will not remain here any longer.”

“You will stay here until your healers say otherwise,” Glorfindel said firmly. “You were seriously wounded, gwador. If you agree to stay here at least one more day, I will speak with Vardamir and we will have you out of here tomorrow. Thursday is a special day of thanksgiving for the Mortals of this country. We will celebrate your release from durance vile and give thanks to Eru and the Valar for your life.”

For a moment, Finrod did not speak, but finally he nodded, sighing. “One more day. I will abide by your wishes and the wishes of my healers in this, but tomorrow I leave and the Valar help any who stand in my way.”

Glorfindel leaned down and gave Finrod a kiss on his forehead in benediction, giving him a smile. “So be it,” he said.