“Yeah.” Heather took another drink. “That’s what makes this whole…” Heather waved her hand in a big circle in front of Scarlet, “…thing…sick. And hot. It’s a sick, hot mess.” Heather took another drink. “You have a thing for your boyfriend’s twin brother.”
Scarlet leaned forward. “There’s no thing.”
“Oh, there’s a thing.”
Scarlet shook her head.
“Really?” Heather leaned back in her seat. “Then why do you miss him so much? And why do you blush when you talk about him? And why, on earth, are you wearing those boots with that skirt?” Heather’s eyes darted to Scarlet’s shoes. “I know you’re from, like, biblical times or whatever, but really? This isn’t 1996, Scarlet. And even if it was…that skirt? Seriously.”
Scarlet ignored Heather’s criticism. “I miss Tristan because….” Scarlet searched for a reason that had nothing to do with her attraction to him. “It’s a…it’s a curse thing.”
Yeah. That sounded good.
Heather set her elbow on the table and placed her chin in her hand. “I’m listening.”
“Tristan and I are connected.”
“Yes, I know. He can ‘feel’ you. Which sounds both sexy and creepy.”
Scarlet nodded. “And I can feel him.”
Heather’s eyebrows shot up. “Come again?”
“I can feel when he’s near and when he’s anxious.” Scarlet swallowed. “I know when he’s sad and when he’s jealous. I can feel him. I feel everything.”
Heather ran her fingers across her lips thoughtfully. “And how does that explain your crush?”
“I don’t have a cru—” Scarlet closed her eyes, took a breath, and looked back at her friend. “I’m drawn to him, that’s all.”
“Because of the curse?” Heather looked at Scarlet skeptically.
“Yes.”
Liar.
Scarlet looked down at her mug and felt for Tristan. She felt the pain his body bore and she could feel his heart softly beating behind hers. Constant. Steady.
Odd how she never seemed to notice it before her mini-death. But there it was, silently hovering alongside her heart, whispering a heartbeat that felt familiar and faded.
Was he far away? Was he close?
Did it matter?
Scarlet sighed. “I just don’t think it’s fair for Tristan to put himself through physical pain because my stupid eyes flashed one time. Wherever he is right now, he’s hurting. I can feel it.” Scarlet pointed to her chest, where Tristan’s heart rocked against her own. “I’m hurting him.”
Heather slowly nodded. Placing her hands flat on the table between them, she leaned forward until Scarlet met her eyes. “It might not be fair, but it’s safe. And if you want to live long enough to find the fountain, safe is the way to go. Forget Tristan.”
That was impossible. Scarlet couldn’t remember Tristan from her past, but somehow she knew she could never forget him either.
Which was something she didn’t know how to explain to Heather. So she didn’t.
Taking a deep breath, Scarlet said. “You’re right. I’m safe. I’m still healthy. And Tristan being gone is good for me.” She nodded, feeling her stomach drop to the floor. “You’re right.”
“Of course I am.” Heather’s lips turned up, but her smile looked forced.
Scarlet took another sip of her drink, burning her tongue again.
Stupid, stupid hot drinks.
***************
The next day, Tristan woke up to fresh snow falling on the trees of the Avalon forest.
Tristan had tried to put distance between him and Scarlet last week, but he’d only made it to the highway before his body started to revolt in agony.
He spent the first night away from her in a motel at the edge of town, writhing in pain in her absence. Their connection was stronger than ever, making it impossible for him to put any real distance between them.
Realizing he wouldn’t physically be able to leave Avalon, Tristan had made a new plan that would keep him in town, but away from Scarlet.
He remembered the shack, broken and abandoned, on the Archer property and resolved to hole up there. It seemed fitting to isolate himself amidst the trees and the stars. A place no one else knew about. A place of silence.
So Tristan had spent the last week sleeping in the shack. His body had not stopped aching though. Not once.
He looked out of one of the dusty windows at the falling flecks of white. Along with the morning snow came a sense of peace. Tristan wasn’t as far away as he wanted to be from Scarlet, but he was far enough away to keep her safe.
And that was all that mattered.
Maybe in his absence, Scarlet, Nate and Gabriel would find the fountain. Tristan thought briefly of what it would mean to live without the curse.
He would live without pain.
Scarlet would live with a healthy heart.
Gabriel would live with the freedom to love whomever he wanted.
But would any of them really be free of the centuries of heartache?
Probably not.
A chill tickled his spine as he moved away from the window and started making a mental list of all the things he needed to do to fix up the shack. He’d already replaced the door and the couch. Now he needed to gut the place, clean it and refurnish it.
Tristan had his work cut out for him.
Good.
29
Cornelius stared at the peasant woman for a long time. She was probably close to him in age, but she looked much younger. She wore a simple dress with few tears and thin leather shoes, stained with mud and the sun.
Most of her appearance suggested she was rather poor. Everything but the cloak she had draped over her head and shoulders and the silver brooch she had pinned to her chest.
The cloak was a deep red, thick, and made of velvet. It hung loosely around her pretty face, covering her head and gathering at her shoulders before falling to the floor with a short train.
The brooch was a silver circle, shining as if it were polished every day. It was larger than any brooch he’d seen before and had a small design on the side.
Expensive, for sure.
These two apparel oddities, in contrast to the woman’s peasant dress, suggested to Cornelius that she, at one time, had great money.
Which intrigued him greatly.
“What is your name?” He sat back in his court chair.
“Ana Jacobs,” she replied, bowing her head slightly. Her eyes were golden and sharp, not submissive like most women from the village.
Yes. She was definitely from money.
“And what do you ask of me?” Cornelius expected her to ask for money. Or food. Or a reprieve in rent.
“I have a proposal for you. An offering.”
Cornelius raised a brow. “Go on.”
She took a deep breath. “I was told you had searched for the fountain of youth long ago. I was told you were given a vial of water from such a fountain.”
Cornelius narrowed his eyes. He did not speak of this with anyone, let alone a peasant. “Who told you such things?”
Ana looked directly at him. “The Fletcher family.”
Cornelius curled a lip. Figures. The Fletchers were a disgrace and deserved death. If not more.
“Did the Fletcher family also tell you that their vial of poison water took my wife? That she died in agony because of her addiction to the water?”
Ana looked down. “Yes. I am sorry for your loss.”
“Did you come to offer your condolences then?” Cornelius was growing impatient with the woman. Although he enjoyed her beauty, he no longer wanted to speak of the fountain of youth.
“No,” Ana said, stepping forward and looking back up at him. “I came to offer you a map to the fountain of youth.”
Cornelius paused. What trick was this?
“A map?”
Ana nodded. “A map that will lead you directly to the magical water.”
“And what makes you think I would be interested in such a map?” Cornelius narrowed his eyes. “Why would I want access to such a poison?”
Ana stared at him for a long moment. “Because the poison healed your wife before it stole her life, did it not?”
Brazen, she was. Looking at him shamelessly and speaking to him with assumption.
“You are a powerful lord,” Ana continued. “But how much more power would you have if your life would never end? Do you not seek eternal youth?”
“The water takes life, it does not give it.”
“That is because the water must be consumed daily. With a limited supply, one would perish. But with a map to the fountain, you would have an unending supply to the water. An…eternal supply.”
Cornelius stared at the woman and tapped his fingers atop the armrest of his chair.
“And you have such a map?”
Ana nodded. “I have the only map.”
He tilted his head. “What do you ask for in return for such a gift?”
For the first time, he saw Ana’s eyes flicker in indecision.
Ah, here is the catch.
She lifted her chin. “I ask that you join our families in marriage.”
Cornelius was taken aback. “You ask what?”
“I ask that your son, Tristan, marry my daughter, Scarlet.”
“Impossible.” Cornelius waved her off. “I know nothing of your daughter, or your family.” And just the day before, Cornelius had made an arrangement with the king that would make marrying Tristan off quite difficult.
But the woman did not need to know that.
“You know that my daughter comes with a map to the fountain of youth. My daughter,” Ana’s eyes steeled over, “can provide your family with eternal life.”
He was about to dismiss the woman, but then he hesitated, rubbing his chin.
He did indeed want the map. Who did not want to live forever? But he would have to marry off Tristan to get the map.
He would have to offer up a son in marriage.
A son….
A plan began to form in Cornelius’s head.
Gabriel and his obstinate attitude could be controlled by marriage. If Gabriel were bound to Ana’s daughter, then he would no longer entertain himself with the filthy Fletcher girl.
Cornelius could not afford to have Gabriel marry into a family of witchcraft, nor could he allow Gabriel to fraternize with Raven as if it were no great disrespect to the family.
Ana offered a solution, as well as a valuable gift. Cornelius just needed to convince her that Gabriel would be better suited for her daughter in marriage.
Or maybe he wouldn’t convince her at all.
Maybe….
“You wish that my son be wed to your daughter?” Cornelius asked carefully. “Nothing more than that? Just that my son wed your daughter?”
“Yes,” Ana replied.
“Very well.” Cornelius nodded. “I accept your proposal. Bring your daughter and the map to court tomorrow and we shall announce the engagement.”
Ana bowed, “Thank you, my lord,” and turned to leave.
“And Ana?”
Cornelius waited until the woman had turned back around before saying, “Crossing me would end in your death.”
Ana’s eyes were sharp. “I would never do such a thing.”
Cornelius waved her away. “Good.”
As she left the room, Cornelius sat back and pondered the possibility of eternal life. He had lost his wife to the fountain’s water, but the peasant was right. The water held magic. The water, if endlessly available, could keep him young and strong forever.
Yes, this would be a fine arrangement.
30
Several uneventful weeks went by for Scarlet. January turned into February and the fair was right around the corner. Which wouldn’t have been such a bad thing, except Kristy Stevens would not shut up about finding a date.
To the fair.
Because that was a thing, apparently.
“Aaron gave me a ride in his new car the other night.” Kristy pulled a strand of her long, blond hair over her shoulder and started twisting it between her fingers as she sat beside Scarlet in class. “It was pretty awesome.”
They were supposed to be mixing beakers and stirring solvents or something, but Kristy wasn’t much help and Scarlet couldn’t care less about chemistry.
They were an awful team.
“That sounds…awesome,” Scarlet said.
What she meant to say was, “I don’t care.”
Kristy sighed dramatically. “I haven’t decided who I want to go to the fair with yet.”
Scarlet watched her lab partner’s eyes slide around the room, lingering on a few different boys—all of whom smiled back at her.
Scarlet examined Kristy. People at school always got Heather and Kristy mixed up, and Scarlet had never understood why.
Sure, they both had blond hair and brown eyes. And they both tended to be in chipper moods at all times.
But Kristy was nothing like Heather.
Heather was real.
Kristy was fake.
“I think Aaron will probably ask me if I drop enough hints.” Kristy looked at the blond boy sitting at the table next to them and gave a flirty smile.
Scarlet looked at Kristy’s low-cut shirt. “I’m sure you’ve already dropped plenty of hints.”
Kristy’s eyes darted to Scarlet and sharpened. Her voice dripped with artificial honey. “I sure hope you and Gabriel last until the fair. You’re such a cute couple. I’d hate to see you guys fizzle out.”
Scarlet lifted a defensive brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kristy shrugged and looked at her chemistry book. “It just seems like you and Gabriel aren’t really…hot anymore. You used to touch and kiss and stuff. But now the two of you just…talk.”
She said talk like it was a bad word.
“We’re hot,” Scarlet insisted. “We’re super hot. We’re on fire.”
What was Scarlet saying? They were on fire?
Who was in charge of her words?
Kristy smiled sweetly and looked at Scarlet sympathetically. “I’m sure you are, dear.”
Dear? Did she just call me dear?
Scarlet straightened her shoulders. “Just because we don’t make out in the hallway and grope each other in between class periods, doesn’t mean we’re not crazy for each other.”
Right?
Scarlet broke out in a cold sweat and added, “Because we are crazy for each other. We’re crazy hot. We’re…we’re—”
“On fire?” Kristy batted her lashes and Scarlet almost jabbed one of her pretty brown eyes with a stirring stick.
“Yes.” Scarlet looked back at her chemistry book and tried to compose her temper.
The only reason she and Gabriel hadn’t been…close lately was because every time Gabriel tried to kiss her, Scarlet pulled away, afraid that she’d feel Tristan again.
But she and Gabriel were on fire.
Or, at least, they were hot.
Or warm.
Or maybe they were on the back burner.
The cold sweat was back again and chemistry class couldn’t end fast enough.
***************
Tristan heaved the remainder of the rotted wood, furniture and other miscellaneous wreckage out of the shack just as the sun was setting behind the thick February clouds. He dusted off his hands. He’d spent the last few weeks stripping the shack bare and fixing it up.
He’d stocked up on food, blankets and other necessities and it was beginning to look like a cabin
.
There was a grown-over access road not far from the shack that he’d used to drive in a new bed and appliances, and he’d managed to repair all the holes in the roof.
The only thing left to fix now was the fireplace. He trudged back into the small house and breathed through the pain that throbbed in his core.
It was getting worse. Scarlet; their connection.
It was getting harder to do anything at all without have to take multiple breaks. If he didn’t know better, he’d guess Scarlet was a continent away, not just miles.
But he knew better.
He could feel her, strong and steady, tugging at his insides. She was close.
Not close enough to relieve him of pain, but close enough for him to run to if need-be.
Making his way to the kitchen, he opened a water bottle and started to chug. Finishing his water, Tristan set the empty bottle down on the counter, wincing as a shot of pain coursed through him.
He breathed in. He breathed out. And he walked to the fireplace.
He had work to do.
***************
After school had ended and Scarlet and Heather were headed to the cabin, Scarlet was still irritated by Kristy’s words. And she hadn’t been able to shake her paranoia about Laura, either. And Tristan’s heart was pumping heavier than ever before, a pulsing reminder that he was gone.
Agh.
Everything was driving her crazy.
Scarlet exhaled through her teeth as she stared out the passenger window of Heather’s car. Her eyes hadn’t flashed since the night Tristan left and she felt stronger than ever.
But something inside her was empty and weak. She closed her eyes and tried to feel Tristan. It took a few moments before she tapped into his soul. He was determined…tired… lonely….
Scarlet’s heart kicked.
Heather whipped her small car down the cabin’s dirt driveway, a cloud of brown dirt kicking up behind them as she sped forward and slammed on her brakes to park.
Heather was a terrible driver.
“Okeydokey,” she said, grabbing her big purse from the backseat. “Let’s see what Nate has to say.”
Awry (The Archers of Avalon, Book Two) Page 14
