And if there wasn’t . . .
I shifted my grip on the sword. The metal was cold despite my sweaty palms, the little grooves on the hilt biting into my skin. That was good, though. The discomfort made me feel grounded and aware, the same way I’d always liked my ponytail just a little too tight at cheerleading practice. Minor pain kept you from focusing on major pain. In cheerleading, that had been the stretch and burn of muscles.
Now the pain was all in my heart.
“Blythe isn’t here,” I said to him. “We left her behind when we realized what she wanted to do to you. David, we’re here to help you.”
He tilted his head just a little to the left, like he was trying to hear something from a distance. “We?” he repeated.
“Bee and I. And Ryan, too, he . . . he helped us before we left. David, there are people who care about you, people who want to save you.”
A little smile twisted his mouth, but there was nothing David-like in it. “Save me? From what?”
I faltered, my sneakers skidding a little on the damp rock. “From . . . this. From hurting people, from not being who you really are. David, there aren’t any more Ephors. There’s no one to use you or who wants to control you, and if we could find some way to help you get rid of your powers—”
Another bolt of light, another crack, and a showering of little rocks.
“This is who I am,” he intoned, the voice his and not his all at the same time. “This is what I am.”
I shook my head. “No. You’re a lot more than this, David, and you deserve an actual life.”
There was a low humming noise, and I wondered if it had been there the whole time. I could feel the hairs on my arms standing up, a chill slithering down my spine, and my hands tightened on the hilt of the sword.
“You saw this,” I said, my voice thick with tears. “I don’t know if you even remember it anymore, but that first day we met Blythe, you sat in my car and told me you used to have bad dreams about me.”
David didn’t move, didn’t give any sign of even hearing me. His eyes were nothing but glowing circles, and his whole body was lined in light. Still, I made myself keep going.
“You said we were fighting, but we weren’t angry. We were sad.”
Dropping one hand from the sword, I dashed at the tears on my face. “And you were right. I’m not angry. Not about any of it.”
“Then why are you holding a sword?”
David’s voice was still doing that echo thing, like there was more than one voice coming out of his mouth. I’d heard that before, of course. Whenever he had a vision, he tended to sound like that. But now, I wasn’t sure if it was the acoustics in the cave, or the power he’d developed, but it was like a chorus of voices now.
Still, that question . . . it hadn’t sounded like the Oracle. For all those voices making all that noise, there was a little edge, just the tiniest hint of snark, which sounded like David.
I tried not to let that make me too hopeful. So he sounded like himself. So there was still a part of him in there. I’d known that, right? It’s why he’d come here to hide himself, trying to stop this from happening. But I hadn’t been able to let that happen. I’d had to find him and see for myself, and now I was going to pay the price for that.
Both my hands were wrapped tight around the hilt of the sword again, but I made myself sound as light as I could as I called back, “Oh, you know me. Always have to make sure I have the right accessory. A sword just felt appropriate for visiting my magical ex-boyfriend in a cave. Although now I’m wondering if it isn’t a bit much.”
There was no hint of anything in David’s eyes—he didn’t really have eyes now—but I thought there was the slightest hint of a smile.
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
“Did you ever read A Wrinkle in Time?” I called out to him now. “You probably did because like every smart kid loves that book, and you were the smartest kid I knew. Do you remember at the end, when Meg saves her little brother by reminding him who he is? Telling him she loves him?”
Still no reaction, but I moved closer, letting the sword drop to my side.
“I don’t know if I believe that can actually work. I’d like to, obviously. And I do love you.”
The glow in David’s eyes didn’t really dim, it couldn’t have, but I could have sworn something flickered across his face.
I kept going. “And Saylor loved you. Not the Oracle you, although it probably started there. But she loved you the person. Even Alexander—” I broke off, wondering if I should mention what we’d discovered, that Alexander was David’s father, but I wasn’t sure it would do any good right now. Instead, I just said, “He tried to save you from this, too. Me, Bee, Ryan . . . we all looked for a way to save you, not because you were an Oracle, but because you’re you.”