Chapter 31
MY SOBS WERE SO FORCEFUL, it was difficult to pull in air. I pressed my forehead to the dirt, wrapped my arms around my torso, and wept great, heaving, hiccuping cries into the grass.
I’d thought hitting the ground as hard as I did from the Hydra’s waterspout was the most stunned and wounded I’d ever been.
I was wrong.
This moment was worse. So much worse.
Like a thousand arrows plunged into my heart.
I curled on the ground and pulled my knees into my chest, trying to protect myself from the hurt, but it had burrowed into me and left a hole so cavernous that I couldn’t fathom its depth.
I ached with sudden loneliness, with the loss of what might have been.
I wished I didn’t know what it was like to be kissed by Aven, to be held by them, to be seen despite the lies, because maybe it would make this parting less intense, less jarring, less anguished.
And while the existence of whatever had burgeoned between us had given me warmth, the absence of it was as cold as a magical cavern or a river fed by snowmelt.
Everything had gone wrong. I had nothing. I would lose my brother. I’d lose my friends. I’d let everyone down. Ellinore the person couldn’t save anyone, not even herself.
I stayed there, rolled into a ball of pain, gazing into the sky. I’d met a god earlier that day, a primordial being, older than time, one who had carved the rivers and filled the oceans; maybe there was one on high who would be willing to give me guidance, an answer, anything.
“There you are.” Dave landed lightly near me, his large frame curling around where I sprawled, his body lowering to the ground. “The others were worried.”
I didn’t say anything, but I reveled in Dave’s warmth. His belly scales glowed with fire and provided a comfort I’d missed. I closed my eyes and pressed my body close to him.
“Where’s Aven?” he asked.
“They left,” I replied. My voice was a hoarse scrape from crying. “They couldn’t suffer another moment being in the company of a fraud.”
Dave huffed. “Their loss.”
I pushed myself to sitting with a groan and leaned on Dave’s neck. I settled against his scales, tipped my head back, and sighed.
“Thank you for coming to save me,” I said.
He nudged me carefully with the tip of his wing.
“You’re injured. Take the potion.”
I didn’t argue, too drained physically and mentally to do so. I shook a few drops onto my tongue, then slumped against him in relief and exhaustion as my bones knitted back together and my bruises healed.
“Thank you. For saving us.”
“Of course. I came as soon as I felt that you were in trouble, real trouble. I’d felt the few times you almost summoned me, but I held off.”
“You could feel those?”
“Yes. But when the bracelet broke… I knew you were in danger. Being seen was the last thing on my mind. I focused only on getting to you.”
I patted Dave’s cheek. “Thank you. I would say that you shouldn’t have, but there was no way we would have gotten out alive, much less been able to force the Hydra back to its lair, without you.”
“You would have thought of something, I’m sure.”
I shook my head. “No. Aven was right. I’m a fake. Ellinore the Brave doesn’t exist in any incarnation.”
“What do you mean?”
I swallowed another round of tears that threatened behind my eyes.
“I tried. I tried so hard to be who Zig needed, who Aven wanted, the person the bards had written about, the one admired by others. But every time I tried to do what I thought Ellinore the Brave would do, it went wrong. Horribly wrong. But when I trusted my gut, that went wrong too.” I tugged on a tangle of my hair.
“And now neither Ellinore the person nor Ellinore the Brave will be able to save Zig. I truly am a fraud.”
“I still don’t understand. Explain it to me like I’m fifty.”
“They all needed something from Ellinore the Brave. Aven wanted more time from her. Farrah wanted to learn from her. And Rylan wanted to record her stories. So I tried to become her. I couldn’t very well show them the real way I’d done things.”
“Why not?”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Are you being obtuse for a reason?”
“No. I sincerely want to know why.”
“Because I’m not Ellinore the Brave!” I shouted, throwing up my hands.
Dave smiled, as large as a dragon could smile, revealing his rows of razor-sharp teeth. “Exactly.”
“What?”
“You’re not Ellinore the Brave. Why would you try to act like someone you are not? Why would you attempt to live up to an expectation of an archetype? Of someone who isn’t real?”
“Um… because I was afraid of being found out and getting arrested—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dave said, cutting me off. “What matters is what you do now.”
“Okay. You say don’t be Ellinore the Brave, but I also tried doing what I thought was correct. I followed my gut, and I still lost.”
“You can’t win all the time, Ellinore. That’s not how life works.” Dave knocked his wing into my leg, jostling me. “It’s the law of averages. You’ve won all the other times doing things your way. There was bound to be a loss. It just happened at an inopportune time.”
I snorted. “Yeah. Like, the worst time ever to fail miserably.”
“The question is, what is your plan now?”
Tears welled in my eyes again. “I don’t know,” I murmured.
“Yes. You do.”
Hypothetically I did. But I was scared. What if I tried and failed again?
What if the others left me like Aven did?
What if they got hurt? What if I lost Zig?
I scrubbed my face with my palms and took a deep, centering breath.
At the end of the day, the what-ifs didn’t matter, because I would lose Zig if I didn’t do something.
Anything. My brother was worth any risk.
When I fought the salamanders, I didn’t second-guess myself about trying to save Farrah and Aven.
When I intervened with the pixies, I didn’t think about Ellinore the Brave, only what needed to be done.
Maybe it was time to stop doubting myself and my methods.
It was time to stop trying to be the hero from the tales that I thought everyone wanted me to be.
It was time to be just Ellinore.
“I can’t give up,” I said to myself as much as Dave. “If I do, I lose my brother. But I’m not sure where to start, and we’re running out of time.” I bit my lower lip. “But maybe my friends have some ideas.”
Dave hummed in agreement. “Maybe they do.”
“Ellinore!” Farrah yelled, sprinting toward us through the meadow in a panic. “There’s something wrong with Zig!”