35. Ava
AVA
Finnr’s anguished cries raised goose bumps on Ava’s arms as they simultaneously drove a shard of pain deep, deep into her heart.
Blinded with tears, she tried to focus on the boy lying on the ground in front of her, but she couldn’t get the image of Finnr’s face out of her mind. The look in his eyes when Jerrid had laid her on the ground beside Roar and when he realized that Siri wasn’t going to wake up…
She wiped her cheek against her shoulder, silent sobs shaking her body as she ran trembling hands up and down the boy’s arms, searching for broken bones.
She couldn’t help the dead.
Siri was gone. One look had been enough to tell Ava the worst had happened, that Siri had probably been struck by the shadow and died instantly, her wound so severe that nothing would have been able to save her.
Not even Princess Persis with her glorious sand magic could bring someone back from the death realm.
Finnr clutched his broken world to his chest and rocked back and forth while Ava tried to work on his son. Maybe he wouldn’t lose everything today if she could just make sure Roar would be okay…
She checked both his legs, then tugged the boy’s tunic free of his trousers so that she could examine his abdomen. It was soft to the touch, giving no indication that he had an internal injury.
She moved to run her fingers over his scalp, searching for a head wound that might explain why he hadn’t woken up yet when the other children attacked by the shadow had already awoken, traumatized but unharmed.
Overcome by more tears, Ava had to pause to wipe her face against her shoulders again.
She felt like an interloper in Finnr and Roar’s pain. She hadn’t known Siri like they had, and yet she couldn’t stop crying.
And she wasn’t the only one.
All around them, girls were crying. Many of them had gathered around Finnr, leaning against his back and shoulders as he huddled over his wife. Some of them were also holding on to the dead woman, their hands resting on her ankle, her shoulder, whatever they could reach.
This wasn’t just a solitary loss. The entire community had been ripped open by this sorrow, this rage, this horror. Siri had been one of them. More than just wife and mother, but also sister and companion and friend.
And now she was a warrior, fallen in battle.
Finnr lifted his head and stared at Ava, the unspoken question raging in his eyes.
WHY?
Ava could only shake her head and cry because she didn’t know.
She didn’t know why some died while others lived.
Why good faltered while evil triumphed. Why love came at such a brutally high cost. Fingertips settled on top of Ava’s head, and she glanced up at Jerrid and Prince Haryk. Jerrid’s expression was grim.
A boot kicked lightly against Ava’s thigh as Prince Haryk crouched beside her. “How is the boy?”
His hands trembled as he balanced his elbows on his knees to keep himself in position.
Ava drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t know, Your Highness. I can’t find any injuries. I don’t know why he hasn’t woken up like the others.”
Jerrid’s fingers shifted from the top of her head to squeeze her shoulder.
Prince Haryk’s expression twisted. “Is it possible that the shadow broke something inside him? Inside his mind?”
The thought flooded her with horror, and Jerrid’s fingers spasmed against her shoulder.
“Flames, I hope not,” Ava rasped. “That would be unthinkable.”
The prince shuddered and lifted one of his shaking hands. “This is horrible. I am holding her sand magic in this very hand, but I don’t know how to use it! I don’t even know if I can.”
“Have you not tried to access it yet?” Ava asked, the faintest stirring of hope in her breast.
But the prince shook his head. “Never. Until this moment, I assumed she gave it to me just to control my phoenix. But now…I would give it back to her if I could, if it meant this boy might live.”
Ava’s heart sank. “Then the best thing to do would be to get him back to Eroth so that Persis can tell us what to do. Maybe she can talk you through what needs to be done.”
The prince shifted as if turning toward the weeping human across from them. “Do you think he would let us?”
Ava and Jerrid exchanged worried glances. Jerrid frowned at her, but something grew steely in his eyes.
“Let me try,” he whispered, and his fingers slipped free of her shoulder to wade through the crowd of crying girls.
Ava sniffed and turned away, unable to watch as Jerrid tried to explain to this grieving man what they wanted to do with his son. That they wanted to take him away, into enemy territory, on a slim chance of survival.
Brynja’s accusing gaze clashed with hers. The girl crouched nearby, her eyes glassy but her cheeks dry.
Ava licked her lips. “It might be the only way.”
Brynja’s expression transformed multiple times, as if she were waging a war with herself, but she finally heaved a heavy sigh. “I’ll go see if the dragon is ready to travel.”
Ava nodded, hoping that Echo had survived in the cellar where they’d hidden her. It had been the only place big enough to hide a dragon that they could think of.
If Echo could fly, then maybe some of them could get back to the palace, to Persis.
Maybe they could get there in time…
In the end, Finnr agreed to their plan, but they had to stay long enough to bury Siri in the forest. It was a pitifully short affair, hardly doing justice to the woman, her legacy, or the hole she left in the hearts of those who loved her.
Finnr had stopped crying, his focus entirely on Roar. He packed in a frenzy, barking orders at anyone who came close to him. No one complained.
The goodbyes were tearful, the girls crying as they hugged Finnr and kissed the sleeping child on his forehead and cheeks. Even Brynja gave Ava a watery smile.
“Bring my brother and nephew back. Take care of them, or I’ll come find you,” she threatened.
Ava winced but laughed. “I believe you.”
In the end, they strapped Finnr and Roar onto Echo’s back since the boy was lighter than any of them, and the dragon’s wings were still healing. Jerrid intended to take as much of the weight as he could to give them all the best chance of reaching Eroth.
It took them about a day and a half of intermittent flight before they saw the peaks of the city in the distance, stark against the noonday sky. Ava had never been so happy to see home before. Tears burned her eyes as she anticipated being reunited with her brother soon.
But first, they had to take care of Roar.
Despite the fact that dragons usually landed outside the city, they landed hard in the courtyard right beside the palace. Guards swarmed them from all directions, shouting panicky orders. But Prince Haryk slid down from the saddle and bellowed until they fell back.
“Get my wife and bring her to the infirmary,” he shouted as Jerrid shifted, and they all moved to help Finnr unload the injured boy.
Throughout the entirety of the trip, he hadn’t once opened his eyes.
Ava’s hopes shriveled a little more with every passing second.
Two guards led the way into the palace, the rest of them falling into step behind Ava and her companions. Jerrid stumbled wearily alongside Ava, but she reached out to grab his hand and squeezed encouragement.
Something burned in his gaze that made her wish they were anywhere else.
The guards opened the infirmary doors and stepped to the side to allow them entrance. A long chamber spread before them, with windows only on one side. The left side of the room contained at least a dozen cots in partitions created by curtains hung from the ceiling.
Princess Persis and the head healer, Glamren, waited inside the doors. The princess’s face was stark white. When she saw Haryk, she shuddered and swayed like she wanted to run toward him, but she held herself perfectly still.
Her gaze shifted to Ava, a smile cutting across her tense features. “Ava! I’m so glad you’re back!”
The princess pulled her into a quick hug that brought tears to Ava’s eyes. She’d forgotten how much she missed this healer from the Dunewatch, who had a heart as big as the Shadewood. Persis held her at arm’s length and stared into her face as if seeking answers.
Glamren wore a bandage across her head that Ava would have to ask her about later, and she too reached out to her, but her hug was fierce and hard as she yanked Ava into her bony arms. “You scared the living daylights out of me, child.”
Ava pulled back, biting back tears.
“We have an injured boy,” Ava said, skipping past her own greetings. “He was under the shadow’s spell, but he didn’t wake up like everyone else. I can’t find anything wrong with him.”
Persis ripped aside one of the curtains to expose an empty cot. Finnr laid his son gently down. The boy had lost weight already, his cheeks hollow and sunken. Persis performed her examination, her fingers deft and confident as she confirmed everything that Ava had told her.
As Glamren covered the boy with a crisp white sheet, Persis looked up at the prince.
“Haryk,” she said, then bit her lip.
His shoulders tensed, but he stepped forward, his hand following the side of the bed as he moved toward the sound of her voice. “I know. You’re going to have to tell me what to do.”
Ava stepped out of the way so that the prince could stand beside his wife. She backed away to stand beside Jerrid. She wasn’t needed here. But that was all right.
She had done her part. They had gotten Roar to the palace in time.
Now her job was to let someone else take over.
Jerrid’s fingers found hers and squeezed. She leaned into his side, her chest so tight she could barely breathe. Persis was murmuring instructions, and Prince Haryk’s head was bent against hers as he listened. He shifted one hand to press his long, agile fingers against the boy’s forehead.
“Just a little,” Persis whispered as she placed her hand overtop his as if to guide him.
Golden magic trickled from his fingers, the magic his young wife had given up for him. Now it spiraled around their fingers and seeped gently into Roar’s skin.