Awry (The Archers of Avalon, Book Two)

by Fine, Chelsea

  Had Gabriel and Scarlet already been married? Was Scarlet safe? Was she provided for? Was she happy?

  His heart twisted.

  He only had one life to live and the girl he wanted to share it with was a thousand miles away and about to spend her life with his brother.

  He had given up the girl he loved, but he didn’t regret it. Giving her up meant keeping her safe.

  He rolled his shoulders.

  It was just before dawn and only two other men were awake: the king’s guard and a young soldier who had joined the army just yesterday.

  The young man looked fearful and small, shaking as he sat upright on his sleeping mat.

  Death would come for him on the battlefield. It was certain.

  Tristan lifted the dirty shirt he wore and began to retrace Scarlet’s drawing on his skin with crushed berries. He did this almost daily, as a reminder of his last moments with her.

  The last time he was happy.

  “Wh-what is that you draw?” the young soldier asked from across the field.

  Tristan didn’t look up. “A reminder.”

  “Of wh-what?”

  He continued to darken the strokes until Scarlet’s design looked brand new. And, like always, his heart began to hurt.

  “Love,” Tristan said simply, throwing down the rotten berries and letting his dirty shirt fall back over his skin.

  The young soldier was still shaking. “D-do you have love ba-back home?”

  Home.

  Ha.

  He had no more home.

  Tristan looked at the young boy and, for a moment, saw himself just months ago. Before everything had been stripped from him.

  “Not anymore.” Tristan stood from his mat, grabbed his bow and quiver of arrows, and headed out to the field for more war.

  More death.

  ***************

  Tristan’s first opportunity to escape came in the form of an old monk pushing a wagon filled with ale. Almost all monasteries in the area had been overrun by the land-hungry king, leaving many monks without food or shelter. Spying a monk with any possessions at all was rare.

  The king was a greedy man.

  Just like Tristan’s father.

  Dressed in his battle gear with his bow on his back, Tristan casually made his way over to the old man, trying to pass off his conversation as a barter for ale.

  The monk eyed him suspiciously. “What is it you want, archer?”

  Tristan kept his eyes steady. “I want to make an arrangement.”

  “What arrangement?” The monk looked around at the troops nearby.

  Tristan kept his shoulders high and straight. “I can hunt enough game to last you through the winter.”

  Tristan could tell the old man was no longer capable of hunting on his own. If the monk wanted meat, he would need help.

  “And what would you want in return?” The monk cocked his head.

  “Help escaping the king’s army.”

  The monk did not look convinced.

  “I hate the king,” Tristan explained.

  The monk nodded as he looked around. “Well, in that case,” A moment passed as he slowly smiled. “We have an arrangement.”

  ***************

  Tristan’s escape plan went off without a hitch. He knew the king’s guards would search after him if he simply disappeared, so instead, he would die.

  He pretended to be wounded in battle and laid his body down in a far ditch, praying the troops would be too lazy to report his death to his father. The last thing he wanted was for Scarlet and Gabriel to think he had died.

  When the battle was over, the old monk came upon Tristan’s body and asked the nearby soldiers if they wanted help burying the remains. Relieved to dig one less hole, the soldiers allowed the monk to wheel away Tristan’s body.

  As the sun set, the monk took Tristan through the forest, staying covered in the shadows until they reached a small monastery hidden in the trees. Bring his cart to a stop, the monk pointed to a door on the side of the old stone building and said, “You may enter through there. I will get you a bed.”

  Tristan looked at him. “I need no bed. I will sleep outside and hunt for you in the morning.”

  “Our guests do not sleep outside.” The monk headed for the door. “Do not argue.”

  Tristan didn’t.

  “What is your name, archer?” the monk asked as he pushed open a short, old door, dark with age and weather.

  Tristan hesitated, not sure he trusted the man with his name. “Hunter,” he replied.

  The monk narrowed his eyes, clearly not believing him. “Welcome to our monastery, Hunter. My name is Elliot.”

  Tristan nodded as he followed the old man through the small door, ducking his head to fit his body through the frame. Once inside, Tristan’s eyes caught on a pile of weapons set atop a large table. He raised his brows. “Are you planning to fight the king?”

  Elliot shrugged. “If the king attacks, we will fight for our home.”

  Tristan wrinkled his brow. “The king’s men outnumber your monastery greatly. You could all die.”

  “True.” Elliot turned to Tristan with a wise smile. “But there is no victory without a battle.”

  46

  “Laura has a secret flower,” Scarlet blurted out to Gabriel and Heather at school.

  Okay. That sounded weird.

  “What?” Heather’s made a face.

  Although things had been tense between her and Gabriel since the breakup, Scarlet still saw him every morning at their lockers. They made polite conversation, and sometimes talked about the curse or the map, but mostly they just avoided eye contact and tried not to accidentally kiss each other out of habit.

  But the flower thing had Scarlet freaked out and she forgot about their awkwardness as she shook her head and started over. “I looked in Laura’s suitcase—the one she was protective of. I thought I’d find Bluestone weapons inside, but instead I found a yellow flower.”

  “That’s weird.” Gabriel wrinkled his brow. “What else was in the suitcase?”

  Scarlet thought for a moment. “Nothing.”

  Heather blinked. “Okay…you found a flower.” She looked at Gabriel, then back to Scarlet. “So…what’s the problem?”

  Scarlet looked at her. “The problem is that there are all these weird Laura puzzle pieces and I don’t know what to do with them!”

  Heather looked taken aback as she raised a palm. “Re-lax. No need to be dramatic.”

  Scarlet sharpened her eyes at Heather. “Says the girl who thought she was going to die in Mr. Brooks’ cellar because she’s blond.”

  “Hey.” Heather pointed a finger. “I have a lot of supporting evidence for that.”

  “Whatever.” Scarlet shook her head with a sigh. “I’m really confused. Laura stares at my eyes and she knows Tristan’s name. She bought a bunch of weapons from a weird old guy and has a mysterious flower packed in her suitcase. It’s just…so….”

  “Strange,” Gabriel said.

  “Yes!” Scarlet turned desperate eyes to Gabriel. “What should I do?”

  Gabriel looked deep in thought. “Why don’t you just ask Laura about everything? The weapons? The flower?”

  Scarlet made a face. “Because that would be weird. Hey Laura, I was going through your personal stuff last night and I found your secret flower. What’s up with that? Yeah, no.” Scarlet shook her head and took a deep breath. “I don’t trust Laura.”

  Saying it out loud made Scarlet’s stomach hurt. Not because it was a heavy statement.

  But because it was the absolute truth.

  ***************

  Later that day, Gabriel sat alone at one of the back tables in the school library. His class was supposed to be doing research for their history project today, but
instead, Gabriel was chewing on the end of a pencil and looking through some books about Georgia.

  “Hey, partner.” Heather appeared in front of him. “Is this seat taken?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “It’s all yours.”

  History was the only class he and Heather shared and, so far, their history project was coming along nicely. Gabriel knew the history—he’d lived it, after all—and Heather was good with words. They would definitely get an A plus plus.

  Heather sat down and the scent of vanilla wrapped around the small table they shared. “So…” she began, “how’s the breakup going?”

  Gabriel slanted his eyes at her, not in the mood for girl talk.

  Heather continued, “It’s been, what, a week since you guys broke up? How are you doing?” She casually opened her history book and started rooting through pages.

  “I’m fine.” Gabriel looked back at his book.

  She turned a page. “You guys seem to be getting along well. As friends.”

  They were getting along well. At first it had been a little weird. But after a few days and jokes and conversations, they had started to relax around each other.

  Somewhat.

  “Yep. Everything is fine.”

  Everything except the hole in his chest. The hole Scarlet couldn’t fill even if she tried. Which she had.

  “You don’t seem…” Heather kept her eyes on the book, “very upset.”

  Gabriel rubbed the side of his face. “I’m not surprised, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I wasn’t asking that.”

  A few minutes passed as they flipped pages in their books.

  Heather looked up. “I’m sorry about the curse. Hopefully, we’ll find the fountain and then you’ll be curse-free.”

  Gabriel pursed his lips. “Hopefully.”

  Heather nodded.

  Gabriel nodded.

  Then silence.

  “This isn’t the first time, you know.” Gabriel played with his pencil, tapping it on the table. “Scarlet and I have broken up before.”

  “Oh,” Heather said, looking a little stunned. “That’s…kinda awful. How many times…?”

  Gabriel exhaled. “Uh…in her last life, a few decades ago.”

  Heather’s eyes grew wide. “Ouch. That sucks.”

  Gabriel shrugged. “You can’t make someone love you. You can try to fall in love with someone, but that’s not how it works. Love just has to…exist.”

  He would know.

  There was a hole carved out of his soul where love should exist.

  “Hi, Gabriel.” He looked to his left and saw Kristy Stevens waving at him from an aisle away.

  He waved back half-heartedly and caught Heather rolling her eyes.

  “What?” he said innocently.

  Heather raised a brow. “I bet you could get Kristy to fall in love with you. I bet you wouldn’t even need to try.”

  Gabriel exhaled. “What’s your deal with Kristy, anyway? Why don’t you like her?”

  Heather shrugged as she watched Kristy walk away from them. “She’s blond and happy and smart and annoying—”

  “So, she’s you?” Gabriel quirked a brow.

  Heather’s eyes shot to Gabriel. “No. She’s not me. That’s the problem. Everybody thinks I’m just like Kristy Stevens and I hate that.” She straightened her shoulders. “Just because you look like someone doesn’t mean you’re like them in any way.”

  “Trust me.” Gabriel nodded with a tucked in smile. “I know.”

  Heather smiled. “I suppose twins understand that more than anyone else.”

  “Yep. Two of my faces roam the earth.”

  Heather shrugged. “Yeah, but Tristan is nothing like you. He’s all heavy and dark. He’s not happy.”

  Gabriel cocked his head. “You think I’m happy?”

  Heather considered, looking over his face. “I think you’re…optimistic. You’re pleasant.” She scoffed, “Tristan is like the living dead.”

  Gabriel looked back down at his books with a smile. “Yeah, well. He hasn’t had an easy life.”

  Truthfully, neither of them had. And that was the fault of the curse.

  47

  Gabriel entered the gathering room where he and Scarlet were summoned to appear and immediately know something was wrong. His father looked upset and the guards around him shifted uneasily. Scarlet entered the room behind Gabriel and stood beside him as the earl motioned them forward.

  Gabriel swallowed, the pit of his stomach falling heavy.

  “My dear Gabriel,” his father said, looking at him, “and lovely Scarlet,” he glanced at Scarlet. “I am afraid Tristan has fallen in battle.”

  Gabriel blinked. “What?” His voice broke.

  “Tristan is dead.” His father put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, squeezed briefly, and moved past him out of the room.

  Scarlet stared straight ahead with a pale face.

  Gabriel froze, his body growing numb as he stood wide-eyed and stunned.

  Tristan was dead? Tristan could not be dead.

  Gabriel could not breathe.

  Finding his legs, Gabriel stormed out of the gathering room, charged to the stables and mounted his horse.

  He rode until the forest ended and then he rode more. Quick and angry, the sound of hooves beneath him was no match for the roar of his soul.

  Tristan was dead.

  His brother, his very first friend. Dead.

  Gabriel had never felt so alone.

  He stopped riding at the riverbank and jumped from his steed angrily. Wanting to scream, wanting to fight, wanting to break everything that was whole.

  Frustrated, he gathered a large stone in his hand and threw it into the passing water. The river gave way to the weight of the rock and washed over it as the stone sank to the dark depths of the river floor.

  He hurled another giant rock, and then another…and then another. He threw and threw, heavy stones flying through the air in anger and injustice, hitting trees, hitting the water. Breaking branches, breaking the waves.

  And when his arms grew tired, his threw some more. He heaved until all the large stones around him were dug up and hurled away.

  And then he fell to his knees.

  Sadness ripped through him and left his mouth in a cry of rage.

  Sinking his fingers into the upturned earth around him, Gabriel stared at the ground.

  He had lost his best friend.

  ***************

  Scarlet walked down the stone hallway that led to the field as a stream of tears coated her face. People in the castle stared at her, guards turned their eyes from her.

  She was not supposed to cry so openly. She was not supposed to break in half.

  But she did.

  She broke in half, one side of her soul severing completely and withering within her. Tristan was dead. Her love was dead.

  When she reached the field, she headed to the trees. She walked. She ran. She stumbled.

  She wanted to leave it all behind. The castle, the servants, the food…the emptiness of life.

  Were it not for her mother lying on her deathbed within the castle walls, Scarlet would have fled forever. She would have made her way through the woods to live as a wild woman. Alone, angry and empty.

  Instead, she sobbed aloud letting the forest wrap her up in the shadows of the trees. She laid her head against the broken leaves beneath her as she cried.

  She would never be whole again. Pressing her palm flat to the ground, she let her tears fall to the dirt as half of her soul died forever.

  48

  Friday afternoon, Scarlet found herself in Heather’s car as they darted through traffic on the way to the cabin. Heather was convinced Scarlet needed to see Nate.

  Scarlet was not
.

  After leaving a tall, thick trail of dust, Heather parked her car at a haphazard angle in front of the cabin. Bursting through the front door with Scarlet beside her, Heather dramatically announced, “Scarlet is broken!”

  Scarlet shook her head. “I’m not broken.”

  “What?” Gabriel met them in entryway, looking at Scarlet in concern. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.” Scarlet slowly walked into the living room, her body aching with every movement as she laid down on one of the large couches.

  “You are not fine, Scarlet. You are broken.” Heather turned to Gabriel with big eyes. “She was wheezing and coughing and moaning during sixth period. Moaning! Do you know how hard it is to explain to your economics teacher why your best friend is moaning during his supply-and-demand lecture?” She shrugged. “Someone needs to fix her.” Heather looked around. “Where’s the nerdy, little immortal?”

  Nate entered the living room from the back hallway and shot Heather a dirty look. “I’m not little. I’m average-sized. And five hundred years ago I was actually considered a large man. But then humans started eating well and evolving and, suddenly, I’m no longer the tallest guy in the room—”

  “I don’t care about the evolution of Nate!” Heather snapped. “I care about Scarlet.” She pointed to the couch.

  Kneeling beside Scarlet, Nate pulled the small flashlight out of his pocket and looked in Scarlet’s eyes.

  “Ah, come on, Nate.” Scarlet groaned. “Don’t make me go blind.”

  He ignored her. “No flashes lately?”

  “No.” Scarlet closed her eyes as more pain rolled over her.

  Nate furrowed his brow. “How long have you been in pain?”

  Scarlet opened her eyes. “A week?”

  “A week?” Nate shook his head. “You should have told me sooner.”

  “But I’m not having any weird flashy eye things and my nose isn’t bleeding. I thought I had the flu or something. But then the pain just didn’t go away, and…now it hurts. All the time.”