¹Royal Cries, p. jackson

016.

ROYAL CRIES
━━ chapter sixteen

━━ DEATH AND ELISA had come face to face many times; and in many of their interactions, Elisa's life had been the one in question. Elisa had escaped Death time and time again, but she had lost people in those excursions.

               With each life Death took, it seemed some of Elisa's sanity dwindled away. Something she was very used to.

               Each time she lost someone else, a heavier weight settled on her chest. It was a constant reminder that she played some part in every death. Maybe Elisa hadn't been the one holding the knife, but she certainly had blood on her hands.

               It wasn't uncommon for Elisa to be a shell of a person, feeling total nothingness. It was also wasn't uncommon that she felt everything and more. Callum liked to have called it that Elisa was grieving—in her own, special unique way.

               In that moment, it felt like the world was crashing down around Elisa.

               At the edge of the junkyard, they found a tow truck so old it might've thrown itself away. But the engine started, and it had a full tank of gas, so they decided to "borrow" it.

               It's not like the owner will miss anyway, it was in a junkyard for a reason.

               Thalia was the one to drive. She didn't seem as stunned as anyone else.

               "The skeletons are still out there," she remained them. "We need to keep moving."

               She navigated them through the desert, under clear blue skies, the sand so bright it hurt to look at. Zoë sat up front with Thalia. Elisa, Grover, and Percy sat in the pickup bed, leaning against the tow wench. The air was cool and dry, but the nice weather just seemed like a slap in the face after losing Bianca.

               When Elisa wasn't trying to hold back sobs, one word was constantly repeated throughout her head: Nico.

               She had no idea what she was going to tell him. She knew she couldn't leave him in the dark about Bianca, his imagination would fill in the blank and create even worse scenarios than Elisa could ever tell him.

               She turned the statue in her hand, wiping off some of the sand on it.

               "It should've been me," Percy said, staring at the figurine in Elisa's hand. "I should've gone into the giant."

               He didn't know why he expected Elisa to come back with an agreement, but she stayed silent, staring blankly at the last thing Bianca had given her.

               "Don't say that!" Grover panicked. "It's bad enough Annabeth is gone, and now Bianca. Do you think I could stand it if ..." He sniffled. "Do you think anybody else would be my best friend?"

               Percy's gaze dropped. "Grover ..." he trailed off.

               The satyr wiped under his eyes with an oily cloth that left his face grimy. "I'm ... I'm okay."

               Grover was definitely not okay. Ever since the encounter that happened in New Mexico—whatever happened back there—he seemed really fragile, even more emotional than he normally was. Elisa knew better than to bring it up, knowing just how close to tears Grover was about Pan.

               She stared at Grover, watching him try and wipe away the oil on his face. She looked at Percy briefly, who was watching her. Elisa shrugged, putting the figurine away. She sat up, wincing at the metal digging into her back.