11. Ava
AVA
Panic crawled up Ava’s throat as she stared at the empty clearing.
They should have been right there, right beside the fire, right where she had left them only a few minutes ago…
“Where are they?” Brynja ground out between her teeth, spinning to face Ava, expression dark and accusing.
“I don’t know! I left them here! I was only gone a few minutes.”
Jerrid trotted forward on bare feet and scoured the campsite. Everything was gone. His dragon. His supplies. The boy…
“The bag of medical supplies is gone too,” Ava noticed, grabbing Jerrid’s bare forearm. “Do you suppose they tried to go back to the camp?”
Concern filled Jerrid’s eyes, and something else… Was it guilt? Did he feel responsible for the boy for some reason? Exactly how had the boy come to be out here in the first place?
“Knowing Roar, he probably came to help kill a wyrm,” Brynja said grimly, hands on her hips. “He’s not… Let’s just say that he has more guts than common sense.”
Blood coated the side of her face, but at least it didn’t appear to be dripping anymore.
“We would have seen him if he’d done that,” Ava argued. “Wouldn’t we?”
Jerrid shook his head, gazing around the clearing with a defeated air about his posture. He clutched the blanket high across his chest, looking extremely uncomfortable. She couldn’t blame him.
She’d be uncomfortable too if she were out in the middle of the Shadewood in naught but her birthday suit.
“There’s nothing for it,” Brynja said tiredly. “We’ll have to go back to camp to see if they are there. If not…we’ll put together a search party and come back.”
She set off across the clearing, her steps uneven, but Ava knew better than to offer to help her.
The girl would probably slap her for suggesting such a ridiculous idea.
Ava couldn’t blame her for distrusting anyone of dark elf lineage.
But it hardly seemed fair to blame Ava for the crimes of her entire race.
She didn’t blame Brynja for the lives the humans had killed during the war.
Yes, it was terrible, and she hoped war never came upon them again, but that wasn’t Brynja’s fault any more than it was Ava’s. Brynja didn’t seem to see it that way, however.
The campfires for the camp began to flicker between the wide trunks of the trees. Brynja quickened her pace, her shoulders pulled back and head high, as if she didn’t want the others to see how close she had come to the grave tonight.
Ava struggled to keep up with them. Her steps slowed, and she stumbled down the path. The trees rippled around her, swaying in breezes she couldn’t feel.
Her tongue was plastered to the top of her mouth, and it felt dry. So dry. When was the last time she had had a drink? Early in the day when she and Jerrid had sipped from the canteen. And neither of them had drunk their fill.
She needed water. And food. And sleep.
And if Brynja had anything to do with it, she wouldn’t be having any of those things any time soon.
Although…Brynja had not put her blindfold back on. Was that deliberate or an oversight?
Ava’s heart began to beat a little faster as they stepped into the outer edges of the camp. To their right, the ruins towered over them, rimmed in silver from the light of the moon. It cast a long shadow over the campsite, where makeshift tents circled several large bonfires.
And right beside the nearest fire, lying curled in a ball, was Echo.
Relief surged through Ava’s weary body.
The dragon appeared to be asleep. Or was it worse? Had she made the journey to the ruins to save the boy’s life only to sacrifice her own?
Jerrid trotted ahead, leaving Ava alone on the edge of the forest. Even Brynja appeared to have forgotten about her for the time being. Ava leaned against the trunk of a tree, too tired to stay on her feet.
Maybe she should just sit down and take a nap right here in the forest. But Echo might need her. She should join the others around the campfire.
But the walk from where she stood now to the place where Echo hunkered looked miles long.
Movement to her right sent a sudden thrill of fear through her, but the figure who melted out of the shadows wasn’t Brynja or Talos. Roar grinned up at her, looking strangely proud of himself.
“I brought the dragon to safety,” he said, hands on his hips. “I didn’t want that wyrm to get her in case it ate the rest of you. I saved her.”
Ava blinked. “That was very…brave of you.”
“I know.” He sighed and gazed toward the campfire, where the others clustered around Echo. “It was pretty brave.”
“You know what else would be brave,” Ava began hesitantly. “Finding me some water. And food. I haven’t eaten in a while.”
Roar frowned. “That doesn’t sound very brave to me. Sounds like mother’s work.”
“Oh, it would be very brave. Trust me.” She could almost taste the food on her tongue, it was so close to her reach. “It doesn’t have to be much. Just some bread and water.”
“Well, I guess I can find something. I suppose that would make me your hero, wouldn’t it? I like being a hero.”
Relief blossomed in her stomach. “Yes. It would definitely make you a hero.”
He scampered off into the shadows as Ava slid down the tree into a slump at the base. A few minutes later, he trotted back to her side, holding something small and round in his hand. He thrust it toward her.
She took it with trembling fingers. It was just a single bruised apple.
“Mum wouldn’t give me anything else. She’s mad at me for going off into the forest.”
Ava took a hurried bite. “It’s okay. Thank you. I’m so hungry I could eat anything.”
“Even a slug? Could you eat a slug?”
Ava nearly choked on her bite of apple, the sweetness taking on a sudden bitter tang at just the thought of eating slugs.
She swallowed and shook her head fervently. “No, I don’t think I could, ah, eat a slug.”
Roar’s expression turned smug. “You would if you were starving.”
I certainly feel like I am, she thought wryly as she devoured the apple and ate every bit of flesh she could scrape off the core.
She gave the remains a regretful look before tossing it into the undergrowth and wiping her hands on her skirt. She did feel better. The sweetness of the apple and the feel of food in her stomach… Yes, it was giving her strength. But would it be enough?
A woman left the cluster around the campfires and moved toward her and Roar. Ava forced herself to her feet, preparing for whatever was coming.
It was Brynja.
The girl’s hardened expression looked even more feral than usual with the blood smeared all over her face. She had wrapped a makeshift bandage around her head but hadn’t bothered to clean herself up yet.
Ava debated briefly whether or not she should explain the dangers of infection to the girl…
But no, she didn’t dare.
The girl stopped a few paces away, hands on her hips. “Time to go back to your cell.”
Ava’s heart sank at the growled words. She had hoped her actions this evening would have earned her a little trust, but apparently it hadn’t been enough.
“Very well,” she said, sighing internally.
“Ah, I was hoping she could stay in my tent,” Roar interrupted, grabbing Ava’s hand.
She stared down at their linked fingers, a strange emotion stirring inside her chest. At least someone here didn’t hate her guts.
“Absolutely not,” Brynja muttered as she cast him a seething look. “She’s a dangerous prisoner, not a pet.”
She prodded Ava in the direction of the ruins. At least she hadn’t found it necessary to use the blindfold this time.
The boy’s nostrils flared as he frowned. “I know she isn’t a pet. I did wonder if she was a queen, though. A dark elf queen.”
Ava choked and coughed.
“Are you a queen? Oh, oh, are you an evil queen?” he demanded, eyes sparkling and his smile widening. “Are you evil? I hope you are! That would be really exciting! Except I might have to fight you and slay you because of your wicked deeds.”
And yet he continued to cling to her hand as if she were his big sister. This thought caused a pang to hit her in the chest. Her brother Peregrin had held her hand like this many years ago when he was a lad. Now he was grown and doing foolish things and trying to get himself killed.
How she missed him and worried that he was all right. How was he faring without her?
“But,” the lad continued, a slight pucker tugging at his full lips, “I don’t think you are evil. You’re too pretty to be evil.”
Ava flushed as Brynja snorted and growled, “Looks have nothing to do with whether or not someone is evil.”
They circled around the campfire and made their way down a well-worn path, stepping into the shadow of the ruins. The air grew chillier as they approached the old stone structure, and Ava shivered, clinging a little tighter to Roar’s hand.
“You should go back to your tent now,” Brynja ordered from behind. “It’s well past your bedtime, I’m sure.”
The boy squeezed Ava’s hand but didn’t release her. “No, it isn’t. I’m almost full grown. I stay up as late as I want.”
“What does your mother say about that?”
“Oh, she doesn’t know,” he admitted cheerfully. “I sneak out after she and Da go to sleep.”
“You’re shameless,” Brynja said, sounding exasperated. “Get off with you. I won’t tell you again.”
Roar threw his arms around Ava’s waist, gave her a quick squeeze, and then scampered away into the shadows. Ava watched him go.
“Do you think he’ll actually go home?” she asked, worry gnawing at her insides.
Brynja snorted. “Nope.”
Ava wondered why the girl had sent him away alone, knowing his propensity for nighttime mischief-making. But it’s not like Brynja was his mother—she probably didn’t feel responsible for him. Ava couldn’t help worrying that he’d put himself in another life-or-death situation before the sun rose.
The pains his mother must suffer, trying to raise a child like that.
“Stop gawping and get inside.” Brynja poked her hard in the ribs.
Ava flinched as the girl managed to hit a bruised spot. She cast a longing look back toward the flickering firelight before turning to face her fate.
“Where are you taking her?” The voice cracked out of the stillness, laced with warning.