She gasped at the contact, turning to face me with a mixture of shock and pain, and I knew why. I could feel it when I touched her, just how real this was. Her skin was cold, and her hand felt fragile, but she was solid.
She yanked out of my grip as the first tears cascaded down her cheeks. “Why?” she whispered to herself, blue eyes running over my face. “Why is this happening to me?”
I wasn’t sure what she meant, wasn’t sure what was causing her the most pain, but the look on her face put a sharp pang in my own chest. “Ava,” I said, “this is real.”
“It’s not real,” she murmured. Her bottom lip quivered with emotion, and I wanted so badly to convince her it was that I reached out to set my palm against her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into it for only a moment before pulling away. “You’re not real,” she whispered. “You’re dead.”
“I’m not.” I reached for her again, with both hands this time, taking her face to get her to look at me. “Why do you think I’m dead?”
“Because,” she whimpered, and a heavy flood of tears went streaming down her cheeks. “You haven’t come for me.”
And I’d thought my heart couldn’t break any more than it already had, but that was excruciating. Even after I’d betrayed her, she’d had so much faith in me that the only reason she could think I hadn’t rescued her yet was because I was dead. And I knew I’d been searching, but she didn’t. It felt like I’d failed her again, betrayed her again, and my eyes blurred with tears.
“Ava,” I said brokenly, “I’m trying to find you.” I leaned to set my forehead against hers. “I swear to you, I’m trying. Where are you?”
“I don’t know,” she said, pulling away and shaking her head. “And it doesn’t matter. You’re a trick. You… this dream… you’re a trick of instinct.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, and a sinking feeling took root in my gut.
“No one’s coming for me,” she muttered to herself, refusing to look at me as though she truly believed I was a figment of her imagination. “I stopped eating. They force me to drink water, but they can’t force me to eat.” She wiped her fingers over her soaked cheeks. “I’ll be dead soon and my mind is trying to stop it.”
My heart dropped. That’s why she looked so sickly. So thin. She’d given up on the thought of ever being rescued, and death was the next best option. “Ava, no, please,” I begged, taking her face again, far more firmly and forcing her to look me in my tear-filled eyes. “I’m real. I’m coming for you. Please. Please, Ava, don’t give up.”
She inhaled a stuttering breath, one I knew would preface a sob, but she held it so she wouldn’t break down. “That’s exactly what I’d want you to say.” But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop it, and she slid her arms around my waist as she succumbed to sobs. “The mind is cruel,” she cried, “and these dreams are torture.” She released me and backed away, saying with difficulty, “I just want it to end.”
“Ava,” I whimpered, and I tried to go after her when she took a step toward the open door, but I couldn’t move. She had complete control, and she didn’t want me to follow. “Ava, stop, please.” She kept going, and as she walked out of the room I hollered one last time, “Ava!”
But she was gone.
Chapter 15
I woke from the dream with a start, sitting up in bed and with tears already streaming down my face. It should’ve been a relief that I’d truly gotten to speak with Ava. Perhaps I should have felt some hope, because she was alive. All I felt was panic. She was alive, but just barely. I’d been trying to find her for six months, and it had been painful and stressful enough without being pressed for time. Now time was everything. I had to find her before she faded away.
Though I couldn’t be sure what hour of the morning it was, or if it even was morning, I threw my blankets off and rushed to dress in the dark. In my haste, I was relying on thoughtless habit to get myself clothed and to the door, all the while pondering exactly how I’d tell Kingston. That thoughtlessness caused me to open the door and stand there for a long moment, simply holding it open. It’s what I used to do so Albus could go out before me and I could close it behind us, but then I realized I’d done it purely out of old habit, and Albus was still gone.
It cut through my panic like a knife, and I stood there for a few moments more to regain my breath, to recover from the blow of the reminder as I wiped the renewed tears from my eyes. With the wiping of those tears, I felt the last of the panic fade, and it was replaced with determination. I’d lost Albus and Brande, and for six months I’d refused to accept that I’d completely lost Ava. Now I had the chance to get her back, and I wouldn’t let anything stop me. The moment we found out where she was, I was going to get her. And I would get to her before she grew too weak. That was the only option.
I rushed out of my bedroom and down the hall toward Kingston’s private chamber. It wasn’t far, and my fist hammered at the door, but there was no answer. Considering there were people moving about the corridors, I could tell that it was early morning, and the only conclusion for Kingston not being in his room was that he’d already woken. The next likely place to find him was the dining hall. I hurried to it, stopping at the entrance to scan the tables. Eventually I found him, sitting across from my mother and Nilson as they all enjoyed their breakfast.
Reaching the table, I plopped down at my mother’s side and directly across from Kingston. “Morning, Mother,” I said on a breath, giving her an earnest kiss on the cheek, but I didn’t leave her a chance to say anything. “Kingston,” I greeted.
“Kiena,” he returned, setting his spoon down with a curious look in his eyes.
I didn’t know how else to get it out, so I blurted, “Ava’s alive.”
Kingston’s gaze flashed a mixture of emotions—instinctive skepticism, surprise, and then interest. “You look like you know this to be true.”
“It is true,” I insisted. I glanced around the dining hall for a specific person, and when my eyes met Rhien’s, I waved her over. Noting my sense of urgency, she hurried to me. “Tell him what you told me, about the dreams,” I said, motioning toward Kingston and adding, “if you’d please.” She explained it to him, and had hardly finished when I interjected, “She’s alive, Kingston. I felt it. Felt her. It was real and she’s out there.”
He simply sat there for a while, glancing from me to Rhien, thinking heavily about what he’d just heard. Eventually, he nodded. “I’ll send birds to all of my men. We’ll make finding her a priority.” That was such a relief. These last few months, after it began to seem like we’d never find her, I’d felt like everyone had put her rescue to the back of their minds. But now we knew she was alive, and Kingston making it a priority was such a comfort that I sighed. “For the next few days,” he began to say.
“Days?” I interrupted. In my excitement, I’d completely ignored the fact that birds weren’t instant communication, and at the realization, my heart sank. “Kingston, she’s dying. We have to find her now.”
“Kiena,” he said, “what you ask is impossible. We will work as fast as we can, but we need reliable information for her rescue to be successful. We need to find her first.”