Page 91 of Dawn of Hope

I suck air through my teeth as pain sears through my hand. I clamp down as hard as I can before reaching up and grabbing the bow with the other. It shifts on the rock as it supports all of my body weight, and I worry it might not hold.

I need to get up over that ledge before it gives way. I tighten my grip and walk my hands up the wooden shaft of the bow, my feet flat against the side of the mountain step by step.

Almost there. The edge is within reach.

Snap.

The bow splits from the string and falls, crashing down into the chasm below, but not before I pull myself up, throwing my body over the edge. My elbows and chest catch just enough so I can swing my leg up, my heel snagging on the sharp rock edge. I roll over twice, landing on my back, but far enough away from the edge not to worry.

I gasp for breath, hand clutching my chest as I suck in air. The ringing is slowly improving the longer I lay here.

Fin’s knees hit the side of my chest as he drops next to me.

“Lennox! Are you okay?”

“I think so,” I breathe. Now that my life isn’t in imminent danger, the pain I ignored before explodes all over me. My hand is throbbing where I sliced it on the bowstring, and every inch of me feels like I’ve been beaten. I will be lucky if I didn’t break anything. “I don’t think it’s safe to go that way.” I tilt my head toward the gaping hole next to us.

“No. We should go back to camp. You’re hurt.”

“I know,” I breathe, chest still heaving. “We should. I just need a minute.” I lay there for another few moments before slowly sitting up. My hand is bleeding badly, and it feels like there might be more running down my face. I rip off a strip of fabric from the bottom of my shirt and hand it to Fin.

“Can you wrap this for me?”

“I, I don’t know what to do,” he stammers.

“It’s alright, I’ll walk you through it.” I tell him what to do until he has it tied tightly around the slice in my skin. The fabric quickly soaks through with blood, and I wince as I clench my fist.

We hobble back down the path, taking extra precautions now that we know the mountain might explode. It is still early in the day. The suns have barely started their afternoon descent, but there is no way I can do any more searching today. I can barely move. I need to rest before heading back out tomorrow.

The idea is frustrating. I am going to lose half of a day of searching. Every day that goes on without success makes me more and more eager to find this cure, and watching Fin get upset today didn’t help.

Families out there truly are suffering, and no one has found the cure for so many years. How long would the island continue to let people suffer? Why did it seem like it was giving everyone false hope?

As we trudge back to camp, I look down at Fin and feel a pang in my chest. I don’t want to give up, just like he doesn’t. At what point is it giving up versus being logical? At what point should I leave and return to my kingdom? At what point will Fin be satisfied with his efforts and decide to leave and see his sister before she dies?

This hope that the island gives every one of us is a beautiful gift, but also a curse. How do you move on from the hope that you had when reality isn’t supporting it anymore? Tears prickle my eyes at the thought.

“Are you alright Lennox? Do we need to stop?” Fin’s small and hopeful voice breaks through my thoughts.

“I’m alright. Just thinking.”

He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze and keeps walking beside me.

“That was scary today. I thought I was going to lose you too,” he mutters quietly.

I can’t stop the tears now, at his words, at the events of the day. I sniffle, but pull my face together, trying to show him confidence that I am not exactly feeling.

“You didn’t lose me. Not yet. It’s going to take a little more than Dawnlin coming after us for me to go away.” Another pang hits me. I will be gone once we are in the real world, back in my kingdom and he in his. No updates, no knowledge of his family’s fate. He would just disappear from my life as if he was never there.

But he is here. This tiny person for whom I have grown so fond in so little time. “Promise me you won’t go back to that mountain, especially not alone.”

He nods. “I promise, Lennox.”

“Good.”

“My bow broke,” he says suddenly, hanging his head a little lower.

I chuckle. With all the danger that happened today, if a broken bow worries him the most, I’ll take it.