Awry

67

On the morning of the town fair, Tristan stood with Gabriel, Nate, Scarlet and Heather on Mr. Brooks’ porch as Heather tapped the gargoyle knocker hanging on the door.

Scarlet had referred to this place as “haunted” and, looking around, Tristan could almost understand why. It was old, dark, broken and creepy.

But haunted?

Nah.

The front door creaked open, but no one was on the other side. Heather looked at Tristan and whispered, “This is how he answers the door.”

Sure.

“Mr. Brooks?” Heather called out. “It’s Heather Baxter. You said I could come back with my friends to look at your maps again?” Wearing a bright pink dress and tall, pink shoes, she looked out of place on the dingy porch.

Tristan watched a jittery old man in a green bathrobe pop out from behind the front door, his eyes immediately shifting from side to side. He held a brown cane in his hand, but didn’t seem to require it for walking since he had it raised in the air, like the stem of an umbrella.

The old man eyed the street beyond them before his jumpy eyes looked from Gabriel, to Tristan, and back to Gabriel.

Yes, they were twins. It was interesting. Move on.

Lowering his cane to the floor, he tapped it quickly. “My maps. Yes, yes.” He lifted his cane again and swung it inside, making a whoosh sound. “Come in.”

Tristan followed everyone inside, unsure of what to expect.

Mounted owls were not at the top of his list, though he had been warned.

Stuffed owls adorned the walls and took up nearly every corner of the room. The few windows lining the front wall were coated in dust, making the sunlight seem gloomy as it floated into the otherwise poorly-lit home.

A dark hallway was to Tristan’s right, lined with more owls, but the old man led them into a parlor room on the left.

Antique furniture clogged up the room; chairs, couches, a chaise lounge, and a tall china cabinet filled with—that’s right—more owls, took up most of the far wall.

From the soft glow of the windows, Tristan could see thousands of specs of dust floating in the air. Mr. Brooks really needed a maid.

Or, at the very least, a vacuum.

A large owl with shiny eyes was perched on a brass bar hanging from the ceiling. Nate stared at the giant bird until the owl hooted loudly, causing Nate to jump.

Real owl. Not mounted.

“First, we will sit.” Mr. Brooks perched on one of the ancient chairs, resting a hand on his cane as his left leg bounced up and down. “Then we shall see about my maps.”

The owl hooted again and Nate scrambled to find a seat. He plopped himself down on the chaise lounge and a cloud of dust lifted up around him, making him sneeze.

Scarlet and Heather sat side-by-side on a red velvet couch beneath the room’s only window and Gabriel sat in a chair across from Mr. Brooks.

Tristan remained standing.

Just in case Mr. Brooks had any other predatory pets hanging around. Like a puma.

Mr. Brooks’ frazzled appearance made him look like a mad scientist. In a bathrobe. Maybe that’s what mad scientists wore.

He leaned his crazy head of white hair forward. “What do you want with my maps? What is it you seek?”

Nate eyed the owl again before speaking. “Uh…we’re looking for apple trees…in the Avalon area.”

“Hmm.” Mr. Brooks looked suspicious as he twitched his lips and started bouncing his other leg. “Why apple trees?”

“No reason, really,” Nate lied. “We just want to know where to find apple trees. You know…just in case we want apples. Or…trees.”

Oh. Dear. God.

Mr. Brooks shifted his lower jaw back in forth, thinking. His eyes were alert as he spoke quickly. “No.” He shook his head forcefully. “What you seek has been the death of many souls and I will not be responsible for another.”

Nate looked at his friends, then back to Mr. Brooks. “What, uh…what do you mean?”

“You seek the fountain of youth!” he announced, tapping his cane several times on the floor.

Everyone froze.

Scarlet cleared her throat. “Do you know where the fountain is?” She spoke casually, like she was asking for directions to the nearest gas station.

“No.” Mr. Brooks sharpened his eyes at her. “I can only tell you the disaster it will bring. And disaster,” he tapped his cane again and lowered his voice dramatically, “it will bring.”

“What disaster?” Heather asked.

“Well, for one, death!” Mr. Brooks’ eyes stayed huge and intense as they gazed about the parlor.

Why was he yelling?

Heather puckered her lips. “But I thought the fountain of youth was supposed to give people eternal life.”

A wild cackle fell from Mr. Brooks’ mouth. “Indeed! The legend is powerful, is it not?” He waved his hands widely, the cane still clutched in his right hand as he swung it into the air, nearly knocking the live owl from its brass bar. “Everyone believes that there is a stream of water that makes you beautiful and keeps you young forever. But that is a lie! There is a fountain, oh yes. But it is a fountain of death. And you,” he jabbed his cane at Gabriel, “all of you are headed for death if you search for it!”

Heather said, “How is it a fountain of death?”

Mr. Brooks’ eyes hardened. “The water is highly addictive. A drug. A parasite that infects both mind and body.” Mr. Brooks nodded emphatically and raised his voice. Again. “Once you have tasted water from the fountain, you cannot live without it. It sinks into your veins, poisons your body…destroys your soul!”

Tristan tried not to wince. Seriously. There was no need to holler.

Mr. Brooks continued. “Without the water, your mind goes mad. You become crazy, lost, and completely psychotic. After that, you become violent. And then…then the pain starts.” He narrowed his eyes. “The unbearable pain of withdrawal. Far beyond any drug known to man.”

Yes. They already knew all that.

Well, maybe not Heather.

Gabriel squinted at the old man. “How do you know so much about the fountain?”

Mr. Brooks raised his shaggy eyebrows. “Legend, mostly. I dedicated much of my life to finding the fountain of youth, wanting to live forever. But I gave up my search once I learned of the fountain’s evils.” He stared at them. “You children have a death wish and I will not help you find the fountain. Eternal life is not worth it.”

Tristan ran a thumb down his jaw. “What if we’re not searching for eternal life?”

Mr. Brooks turned his head to Tristan. “Then what is it you seek?”

“A cure,” Scarlet said.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked around at everyone. “A cure for what?”

“I’m sick,” Scarlet said. “I’m dying.”

“Hmm.” Mr. Brooks leaned back and puckered his lips. “I am sorry to hear that, my dear. The fountain would cure whatever ails you, but it would rob you of life. You are better off accepting whatever natural illness you suffer from.”

“It’s not natural.” Scarlet’s eyes stayed steady as she looked at the man. “I’m cursed.”

Tristan clenched his jaw. He didn’t like sharing personal information with strangers. Especially crazy, old men who wore bathrobes and surrounded themselves with mostly-dead birds.

Mr. Brooks shifted his jaw again. “Cursed you say?” He stood up and swung his cane back and forth as he started pacing. “Cursed? Cursed to die?” His eyes darted around the room and fell back to Scarlet.

She nodded.

“By who?” Mr. Brooks kept his eyes on Scarlet.

“A witch,” Gabriel said.

“With what?”

“An arrow,” Scarlet replied.

“And what makes you think the fountain will undo this curse?” Mr. Brooks stopped pacing.

“Because the curse was sealed with immortal blood,” Nate said.

Tristan let out a frustrated exhale.Why are we sharing our deepest secrets right now?

“You have immortal blood in your body?” Mr. Brooks asked Scarlet.

She nodded.

Setting his cane against the wall, Mr. Brooks began pacing again, his green bathrobe flying out behind him as he glided up and down the room. The loose belt around his waist did little to keep the robe around him as he walked, revealing a white undershirt and a pair of faded pajama pants beneath.

At least the Mad Scientist had the decency to wear clothes under his robe.

Mr. Brooks clasped his hands behind his back, wringing them together as his eyes stayed on Scarlet. “Immortal blood. Interesting.” His eyes shifted wildly as he paced and muttered to himself, “Immortal blood…a witch…a curse…”

“Look.” Tristan was growing impatient. “We need the fountain. Can you help us find it or not?”

Mr. Brooks stopped pacing and pointed at Tristan. “I do not know the exact location of the fountain, only a general area.”

“What if we have a map?” Gabriel said.

Mr. Brooks blinked. “A map to the fountain?”

Tristan rolled his eyes. Was there anything they weren’t going to tell the old man?

“There is only one map to the fountain.” Mr. Brooks looked each other them over carefully.

Tristan said, “How do you know?”

Mr. Brooks sat back down and started bouncing his knees again. “Legend has it that a Spaniard named Francis de Leon came to Avalon hundreds of years ago, found the fountain, and drew jugs of water from it. He boasted his treasure to the Avalon natives and claimed he’d made a map of how to get back to the magic water. Shortly after, Francis returned to Spain, taking his precious jugs of water and the map with him. It is rumored that the map was stolen by his sister, Ana, and was never seen again. That is how I know of the map.” He looked around the room. “The better question is, what makes you think you have the map that belonged to Francis de Leon?”

Lifting her chin, Scarlet said. “Because Ana was my mother.”

Gabriel watched Mr. Brooks scratch at his whiskers. “If you do, indeed, have the De Leon map, then you should already have found the fountain.”

Nate shook his head. “We have the map, but we don’t have a starting point.” He pulled off the backpack he wore and unzipped it, carefully removing the aged map from between two pieces of plastic. Nate handed it to the old man. “There is no way to know where we are supposed to begin.”

Mr. Brooks examined the map for a long moment. “This is fascinating.” He inhaled. “People have been searching for the fountain for thousands of years and here you have the map!”

Nate said, “Can you make sense of it?”

Mr. Brooks eyed the parchment for a long time, then shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. But I might have something that could be helpful.” He quickly stood, swinging his cane. “Follow me to the cellar.”

Everyone made their way back down the dark, narrow hallway and into the cellar. Once there, Mr. Brooks bustled around until he pulled out a preserved map from the very back corner.

“This,” he said, using nimble hands to smooth out the map on the large square table in the center of the room, “is a compilation of all my searches from when I first arrived in Avalon. I made note of every hill and valley in the outer forests, hoping to find an ideal place for a marsh or stream or whatever form the fountain of youth would take. And this,” he pointed to a spot on the map, “is where the natives say Francis de Leon traveled.”

Nate squinted at the map. “So the fountain is most likely near that location.”

Mr. Brooks nodded. “Which is about a hundred miles outside of town. If I had to guess, I’d say the fountain is within a mile radius of this area.” He pointed again to the spot on the map and then ran his finger in a large circle around it.

Nate set their map on top of Mr. Brooks’ and squinted at the comparison. “So if we can just get to that spot, then we might be able to make sense of our map and find the fountain?”

“Maybe,” Mr. Brooks said.

Suddenly, the map turned blue and Gabriel looked at Scarlet. Her eyes were glowing brighter than ever.

“Scarlet?” Heather said, concern filling her voice.

Then another light, a green light, fell across the map as well. Tristan’s eyes were glowing too.

“What…the…hell?” Gabriel stared at his brother.

Tristan started rubbing his eyes and Scarlet started blinking. Just as suddenly as they had started glowing, both sets of eyes went back to normal.

Gabriel’s gut tightened. Something was very wrong. He’d never seen Tristan eyes glow like that before.

Nate looked first at Tristan, then at Scarlet. “What just happened?”

Tristan blinked. “I don’t know.”

Nate pinched his lips and murmured, “The curse is changing.”

Mr. Brooks looked at Tristan, then at Scarlet, and narrowed his eyes. “What is this curse?”

Scarlet, still blinking, cleared her throat. “I basically die, vanish, and then come back to life at some point in the future.” She swallowed. “Except, last time I died, I didn’t vanish. Which is weird, but a lot less complicated. I tend to come back to life without my memories,” she explained.

Mr. Brooks’ face stood frozen for a moment. “You die and come back to life?”

Scarlet nodded.

He tapped his cane and took a quick step toward Scarlet, standing with his nose close to hers. “That explains everything!” he said, examining her through his thick spectacles.

“What does it explain?” Scarlet looked at Nate for answers. He shrugged.

“You and I,” Mr. Brooks pointed at Scarlet before stepping back and stretching his hands out, “have met before. You came to me many years ago and tried to buy my Bluestone weapons.” He bounced on his feet. “You begged, in fact. I thought it was a strange request and I, of course, refused to sell them because they were my family’s greatest possessions.

“But when you arrived on my doorstep a few weeks ago, looking exactly the same as you had years ago and did not remember me, I was perplexed! But now I understand! You have come back to life.”

Everyone in the room looked at Scarlet.

Gabriel’s heart started to pound. Scarlet had been here before?

She looked panicked. “I don’t remember…I don’t remember.”

Nate eyed the old man. “You said the weapons were your family’s greatest possession. Why are they so valuable?”

Mr. Brooks shrugged. “Because they can kill immortals.”

Tristan narrowed his eyes at Mr. Brooks. “And Scarlet tried to buy the weapons from you?”

He nodded. “But I refused to sell them. At the time, I was wealthy and did not need the money.”

Scarlet’s shook her head. “But you sold them to Laura!”

“To who?” Mr. Brooks looked confused.

“The red head that smelled like cinnamon and coffee,” Scarlet said. “You sold the weapons to her a few months ago. Why?”

Mr. Brooks inhaled. “I lost all my money. I needed more.”

Nate scratched the back of his head and looked at Scarlet. “Why do you think you were trying to buy those weapons?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea.”

“I am intrigued by this curse.” Mr. Brooks looked at Nate. “You said the curse is changing?”

Nate nodded.

Mr. Brooks looked at Scarlet. “And you said your body didn’t vanish last time you died?”

Scarlet shook her head.

Twitching his lips, Mr. Brooks looked at Scarlet. “Well, my dear. It sounds like you’re borrowing a life-force.”

“A what?” Scarlet was incredibly confused. She had met Mr. Brooks before? She had tried to buy Bluestone weapons? What was going on?

Stupid amnesia.

Mr. Brooks scratched his chin. “When I first came to Avalon, the natives told a story of a man with everlasting life. No wound could kill him, no illness took him. He was immortal. He lived a quiet life in Avalon and kept only the company of a white female wolf.

“The white wolf would help him hunt and, in return, the immortal gave her food and companionship. But the wolf was attacked by a bear and the man, distraught at the thought of losing his pet, tried to heal the wolf using his immortal blood.

“It did not work. The wolf died with the man’s blood inside her and vanished into the night. But years later, the man suffered a powerful pain and, in an attempt to soothe his aching, he wandered into the woods where his pain began to subside. There, he found his wolf, alive and well, and his pain disappeared at her nearness.

“But soon after their reunion, the wolf grew ill and her eyes began to glow. The immortal man could not heal her and she died once again in his hands. This death and resurrection happened three times and the people of Avalon thought the wolf was magic.

“But in the wolf’s third life, the immortal man became sick, just like the wolf had so many times before, both of them with glowing eyes. What the man had failed to realize was that he and his pet were sharing a lifeforce—a source of life that is meant for only one soul.

As powerful as the immortal’s lifeforce was, it could not sustain both souls. You, my dear,” Mr. Brooks looked at Scarlet, “are borrowing a lifeforce. That is how you are able to die and come back to life. And, from the glowing eyes of this young man,” he nodded at Tristan, “I’m assuming the immortal lifeforce that revives you belongs to him.”

Scarlet’s breathing grew rapid. She and Tristan were sharing a lifeforce? That didn’t sound good.

“So now you’re both getting sick?” Nate cursed and shoved his hands in his hair.

Mr. Brooks looked at Scarlet somberly. “How many lives have you had?”

She blinked.

“This is her seventh,” Tristan answered.

“Oh, my.” Mr. Brooks rubbed his mouth nervously. “And both of you have glowing eyes?”

“Yes. But Tristan’s eyes have never glowed before.” Scarlet stepped forward. “It’s usually only my eyes that glow. What does…what does this mean?”

“It means you’re in transition.” Mr. Brooks tapped his fingers on his cane. “The lifeforce is perfectly balanced right now.”

“Is that good?” Gabriel asked.

Mr. Brooks shifted his jaw. “A perfectly balanced lifeforce doesn’t last long. It will soon shift to only the girl.”

Scarlet was stunned. “But that doesn’t make any sense. If Tristan’s eyes have never glowed before, then we’ve never been in transition before. Why now?” Her voice rose. “What could have made our lifeforce connection balanced?”

Mr. Brooks pressed his lips together. “As far as I know, there are only two ways a lifeforce is shared. Through blood. And through touch.”

Nate ran a hand through his hair and looked at Scarlet. “Has more of Tristan’s blood entered your body in the last few months? Did you cut yourself? Did you slip and fall on a syringe filled with Tristan’s blood? Did you play Vampire Scarlet and bite him?”

“Ooh,” Heather whispered. “Vampire Scarlet sounds hot.”

Scarlet glared at Heather before looking back to Nate. “No,” she shook her head. “I haven’t been anywhere near Tristan’s blood.”

Nate looked Tristan. “What about when she was dying and bleeding all over you? Did you have any of your own blood on your hands, or your face, or your lips?” Nate asked pointedly.

Way to be subtle, Nate. That’snot awkward at all.

Tristan shook his head, his jaw flexing. “No.”

“Well, then,” Mr. Brooks leaned on his cane, “the lifeforce must have been shared through touch.”

Everyone turned their eyes and stared at Tristan and Scarlet.

Well, this is embarrassing.

Tristan looked at the table. Scarlet bit the inside of her cheek.

Heather whispered, “Awk-ward.”

Gabriel pinched his lips together and his eyes darkened. “Damn it, Tristan. You just couldn’t keep your hands off of her, could you?”

Tristan met Gabriel’s eyes with a cold stare.

Nate shook his head. “The transition may have started in Scarlet’s last life, but Tristan’s glowing eyes didn’t start until this life. Which means….”

Scarlet’s cheeks were on fire.

Heather sucked in a slow breath and looked at Scarlet. “Did you touch Tristan in this life?”

Everyone stared at Scarlet.

She shifted. She cleared her throat. “I may…have…laid on top of Tristan…for a few hours the other night.”

Gabriel cursed.

Tristan turned his eyes to the floor and rubbed the back of his neck.

Heather tucked in a devilish smile.

And Nate looked exhausted. “Are you kidding me? After I specifically told you not to touch him?”

“Tristan was dying!” Scarlet said. “I couldn’t just let the pain kill him. I had to touch him.”

Heather nodded her head with big eyes. “Sure you did.”

Mr. Brooks defended Scarlet.“During transition, the lifeforce carriers can transfer life back and forth between each other through touch. It’s possible he was dying and Scarlet’s touch saved his life.” He paused and looked at Scarlet. “You’re lucky you survived. The transfer could have easily killed you.”

Nate shook his head in disappointment as he eyed Scarlet. “You shouldn’t have touched Tristan.” He gave Tristan a cold look. “And you should know better.”

Tristan opened his mouth to protest, but Gabriel cut him off.

“I’m going to kill you.” Gabriel pointed at Tristan.

“For what?” Tristan raised a brow at his twin. “It’s not like I asked Scarlet to come lay on top of me. I woke up and she was just…there.”

Ohmygoodness.

Scarlet wanted to melt into the floor.

Gabriel cocked his head to the side. “Is that what happened in her last life too? You just accidentally touched Scarlet enough to set the lifeforce transition into motion? God! How much touching did you do?”

Heather bit her nails.

Scarlet looked around for a hole in the floor. Or a something to hide behind. Could this get any more embarrassing?

Tristan narrowed his eyes. “What do you want, like a scale of one to ten?”

Yep. More embarrassing. Scarlet dropped her face into her hands.

Gabriel’s jaw tightened as he scowled at Tristan. “You son of a—“

“Okay!” Nate swung a hand down in-between Tristan and Gabriel. “What happened in the past—any past—doesn’t really matter anymore. What matters, is fixing our current situation so we can get things back to normal.” He added, “And by ‘normal’, I mean cursed and all screwed up.” He looked at Mr. Brooks. “How did the immortal guy and his wolf fix their condition? What did they have to do to make the lifeforce unbalanced again so the immortal man could get better?”

Mr. Brooks paused. “The man didn’t get better. He and the wolf were two souls sharing one immortal life. Only one of them could survive.”

“What do you mean?” Scarlet’s chest tightened. She knew what he meant, she just didn’t believe it.

Mr. Brooks looked pained. “The man died.”

Scarlet’s heart stopped beating. She actually felt it stop.

She raced her eyes to Tristan hoping to see him scoff and shake his head in denial. But Tristan was looking at the table, stress oozing from his soul.

Disbelief clouded Nate’s face. “So if we don’t find the fountain soon and undo Tristan and Scarlet’s connection….”

Scarlet’s heart began to pound as she whispered. “Tristan’s going to die.”