Page 3 of Avelina

Nevertheless, she offered me some pain medicine, to which I responded, “Yes, give me all the drugs.” That made her laugh, and we were friends after that. She pushed something into my IV, then bundled me up in a stack of heated blankets.

My mom handed me my favorite book, The Crystal Key, then my parents left. It’s actually children’s fiction, too short to be called a novel or even a novella, but something about it has always been so relaxing to me. When I was fifteen, my mother got me a signed copy from the author, Violet Atticus. I had been reading it once a year ever since. I always liked to read it when I was sick or depressed. It made me feel like I was hanging out with an old friend.

The story is about a young woman named Linorra Dragonrider, who finds a magical key that opens doors to other worlds. She uses the key to search the universe for the lost dragons of Hartha. When an evil queen kidnaps a man she believes to be her future husband and demands his life in exchange for the key, Linorra must decide between love and the safety of all the lands.

It’s a simple story, but I’ve always identified with the girl, not only because her name is similar to mine, but also because she had to learn how to trust herself and be brave in the face of ignorance, deception, and fear.

I read until the light coming through the window dimmed to the point that I had to choose between turning on the overhead light or turning over to go to sleep. I asked Tarah to stick the book in my pack and resolved to start calling people in the morning to help me find my Rogue.

Chapter Two

The name Dragonrider was old, and though the last of the dragons had disappeared more than a hundred years before, Linorra could feel in her very soul that she was meant to have one. She dreamed about finding new lands where dragons still ruled the skies, and she searched for evidence that they still existed somewhere hidden and unknown. One day, she found it.

I was in the hospital for about a week, which was great because if I had stayed any longer, the food would’ve killed me. The doctors and nurses all said that I was lucky to be alive given how I’d arrived. They were surprised at how quickly I recovered, but I’ve always been a crazy-fast healer. My collapsed lung reinflated, and they took that horrible chest tube out. My right wrist was broken, but it didn’t need surgery, just a hard plastic splint.

My mother offered to pay for the search party by cooking for everyone, which anyone within fifty miles would tell you was a great deal. I had spent the last few days calling everyone I knew to come help.

I called my best friend, Marti Jermez, who enlisted her husband, Milo, and he brought his twin brothers, who I’d never met. I also asked another friend, Spirit, a new age hippie who believed in healing crystals. She was kind of an oddball but was also one of those people you could always count on for steadfast moral support.

I purposely did not call Drew. I wasn’t mad. I swear. I just wasn’t in the mood for drama. Marti called her, though. Did I mention Marti was a sneaky bitch? That girl always found a way to get what she wanted. At five-two, she was like a teacup wolverine with bright red claws and lipstick to match. She wasn’t great with moral support, but she was incredible when you needed someone on your team to keep the others in line.

We all met at the stables, which was about a forty-five-minute drive from Eureka, California. It was Fourth of July weekend, so we turned the hunt into an occasion. Though it wasn’t terribly hot, we couldn’t do any kind of fireworks due to a fire ban. So, we all just wore red, white, and blue and let Ray Charles and Lee Greenwood do the rest.

I chose to wear my favorite running pants, which were a light iridescent blue, and a crimson tank top with a denim button-down over top for a cool walk through the woods. To complete the ensemble, I wore my running shoes, white Giants hat, and pink smartwatch.

Since we were in the middle of the foggy season, we decided to wait for some of the fog to burn off. In that part of the state, a dense fog took over the forest in the early afternoon and usually burned off by the middle of the next morning. It made for a beautiful, eerie walk in the woods, but it wasn't exactly optimal for finding a lost dog.

At about noon, after some sausage-stuffed mushrooms and toasted ravioli, my parents saddled the horses and took off to ride the trails. I was too broken to ride Fantasma, my own dapple-gray Andalusian, not to mention traumatized by my accident, so I planned to hike on foot with my friends.

My hiking pack, a blue REI co-op, had been my de facto purse since I’d been working at the stables, so I had a lot of random junk in it. The bag was stuffed and disorganized as always, but I wasn’t in the mood to sift. I added water, bear spray, a remote GPS, and a few other things. Marti insisted that I bring a collar and leash, though I hadn’t needed it for Rogue in ages. But as Milo always used to say, when Marti insists, you can’t resist.

We set out on our hike, scanning the forest for evidence of my Rogue, alive or otherwise.

In the redwoods, the forest floor was a thick tangle of ferns and other brush, so you couldn’t just walk through it. We stuck to a smaller footpath through the property that was probably an animal trail at one point. It was the trail that Rogue and I always took when going out for a walk. Drew stayed close to me.

“I heard you have paintings displayed in a few galleries,” I said.

Drew beamed, her enormous brown eyes alight with pride. She had always been cute, but she had a new quiet confidence. She tucked a lock of curly brown hair behind her ear and caught my eye, trying to hold it.

“Yes, it’s very exciting,” she said. “I have one painting in LA, two in San Francisco, and one up in Seattle. All oil on canvas. Nothing fantastically inventive like some of my classmates, but people seem to like my work. I hope so. I have pretty intense loans to pay off. I’ve applied to be an art teacher at a couple different high schools.”

“Local?” I asked.

“One is,” she said, glancing down, then back up at me. I nodded noncommittally.

The dark side of my personality—the one I had long ago nicknamed Evil Lina, or Evilina—saw right through Drew’s innocent act. She’s fishing. She wants you to say that you hope she’ll take that one. It’s kind of pathetic.

“Well, I’m very happy for you,” I lied. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“Thanks,” Drew said. “So, you’re working at your parents’ stables?”

“Yeah, for the last three years. I’m basically their office bitch.”

“Oh, so they hired Evilina?” Drew suggested.

I laughed. “They sure did. Anyway, I arrange the group rides and guest room scheduling, and I do the advertising and books. I might start doing it for a few other places too. I’m good at that kind of thing, taking details and organizing them. I was getting ready to take some pictures for our website when I had my . . . ya know.” I waved my splint at her.

“Hey, can I sign that?” she asked, pointing to the splint.

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