Avow

CHAPTER 33

There were no cabins or hotels near the forest where the Bluestone caves were located, so Scarlet had to find a place to stay in the town of Avalon instead. She settled on a tiny cabin in the woods. It was dark and a bit dirty, but it had a boarded up cellar with an old workbench and a pegboard.

Perfect.

After settling in, Scarlet wasted no time lifting the floorboards in the cabin’s kitchen and making herself a workspace in the cellar where she coated a few of Tristan’s weapons in blood.

Then she grabbed her father’s journal and headed out the front door. She was off to see a man about some Bluestone weapons.

Scarlet hiked through the dense forest of Avalon.

Her visit with Mr. Brooks yesterday had been disappointing. He had refused to sell her his weapons. Not even when she’d offered to trade him a map to the Fountain of Youth had he conceded. Realizing there was no swaying him, Scarlet returned her father’s journal to Mr. Brooks—with a few key pages ripped out, of course—and left.

She would just have to be successful in finding the fountain so Tristan had no reason to try and kill himself.

A twig snapped behind her and Scarlet spun around.

Nothing.

She shook her head. After leaving Mr. Brooks yesterday, Scarlet had visited the old Avalon cemetery in the hopes of finding her father’s grave. She hadn’t found any tombstones marked William Jacobs, but she had gotten the chills several times while she was there, like ghosts were watching her or something, and the eerie sensation had stayed with her ever since.

And now here she was, in broad daylight, spooked at the sounds of nature.

She slowed her hike and pulled out the forest map she’d brought.

Knowing she planned to return the journal to Mr. Brooks—where it was much safer than in the hands of, say, an immortal friend of hers who might to try to survive the caves of death—Scarlet had memorized the map.

The tree branches were filled with lines running off in different directions and those lines were the cave tunnels. There were a few tunnels that would take Scarlet to the Avalon chamber, but first she needed to find the caves themselves.

She studied her location on the forest map with a frown. She still had a long way to go and it was already noon. According to her research, the Bluestone caves were notoriously hard to find and Scarlet didn’t want to hunt for them in the dark. She needed to hurry.

Something rustled to her left and she froze, her eyes shooting in that direction before she mentally scolded herself for being so paranoid.

Scarlet resumed her hike. Stupid, creepy graveyards and their hitchhiking ghost vibes—

Stiff hands grabbed her from behind and threw her to the ground.

Stunned for a moment, Scarlet could do nothing more than stare at the man looming over her. His eyes and teeth were yellow, his skin ash-gray, and his jerky movements made him seem more like an animated monster than a crazy man in the woods.

Scarlet snapped out of her shocked state just as the odd being grabbed at her bag. Snatching her bag from his grasp, Scarlet jumped up and raised a hand to block the blow her attacker threw at her.

Instinct kicked in and Scarlet kicked at the man—who she now decided was not much more than a decrepit creature—and made contact with his hip, kicking him to the ground. He grunted and spittle came from his mouth as he fell.

Reaching into her bag with deft precision, Scarlet pulled out her hunting knife and flung it into the man’s chest just as he rose and came at her again.

Her adrenaline pumping, Scarlet watched the blade sink into the odd-colored skin of her attacker and waited for him to drop to his knees. But he simply looked down at the knife in his chest, pulled it out, and charged her again.

Stunned, Scarlet pulled out one of the bloodstained daggers and desperately thrust it into the abdomen of the creature that was nearly on top of her. The being stumbled back and collapsed onto the forest floor, its body crumbling into a pile of ash, leaving only the dagger behind. Scarlet froze in place at what she had just witnessed.

Hearing a sound behind her, she whipped around to see another creature charging her. Without a weapon to defend herself, Scarlet threw a punch into his jaw—which felt as though it was made of stone—and a heavy kick to his groin. He wobbled for a moment and Scarlet felt her eyes start to burn as a blue light lit up the trees around her. When the burning subsided, Scarlet saw the being had recovered and was coming at her again. Quickly, she lunged for the bloodstained dagger lying on the forest floor. She grabbed it and flung it at him. He, too, fell to the ground and disintegrated.

She took a moment to look around. Three more manlike creatures were charging toward her. Fear spiked her veins as she realized she was outnumbered and sorely unprepared for a fight of such caliber. Turning around, Scarlet ran through the trees blindly, her lungs burning and her legs going numb. Her eyes felt hot and flashes of blue bounced off the forest around her. She saw a few spots of blood fall from her face and realized her nose was bleeding as well.

What? No. Not yet! She couldn’t be sick yet.

Faster and faster she ran, blood running down her face, until she was certain she had lost her attackers. Doubling over, she caught her breath and wiped her nose.

The creatures had not been normal humans. They had not been human at all.

What were they?

She straightened up and caught her breath. It didn’t matter what they were. What mattered was that they stood between her and the fountain and it seemed they could be defeated with immortal blood—something Scarlet happened to have on hand.

She was going to need more weapons.

Another drop of blood fell from her nose.

And she was running out of time.

When she got back to the cabin, Scarlet carried the remainder of the Tristan’s weapons—thank you Tristan for treating me like an equal partner in war at all times— to the cellar and carefully coated them with Tristan’s blood.

She spent the rest of the day practicing the feel and weight of each weapon before hanging them up on the wall. When she was finished, she had a wall of bloody weapons that closely resembled the wall in Tristan’s house.

She smiled to herself.

He would be proud.

Well, no, actually. He would be pissed. Tristan would hate the idea of Scarlet taking on a troop on nonhuman creatures by herself, but whatever.

Another warm trickle fell from her nose and she cursed as she brought her hand to her face. This was bad.

Walking back upstairs, Scarlet headed for the cabin’s only room and cleaned her nose before heading to the kitchen.

She looked out the window, concerned by her rapidly accelerating illness and nervous for the battle that lay ahead of her.

But then she thought of Tristan and she wasn’t afraid.

Staring out into the twilight forest, she whispered, “There is no victory without a battle.”