Kael
The judge wanted to see the back wheel.
I had crossed space, lost a piece of my sister and spent the last seconds holding a handle against a man who was stronger than my left hand.
Now we were waiting for someone to look at a wheel.
He was right to look.
That made the wait no shorter.
The medical officer held my wrist while I sat on the bench beyond the working boundary.
"Close."
I closed my fingers.
"Open."
I opened them.
The last two moved more slowly than she liked. She checked the side of the hand, then the support beneath my sleeve.
"New pain at the spear contact?"
"A bruise, I think. Nothing sharp."
"You don't get to decide the depth by being hopeful."
She examined it.
I watched the judge crouch beside the cart.
The whole rim lay beyond the receiving mark. I had seen it when I walked past. The marked load remained secured, and neither cart had crossed a forbidden part of the field.
The record still needed someone other than me to say so.
