Free Avow by Chelsea Fine

alive?

CHAPTER 8
     
    Tristan’s heart was pounding. Joyous, terrified, excited, nervous—there was no emotion within the spectrum of human existence he wasn’t currently experiencing.
    He knew it. His heart, his soul, his pain-stricken body knew Scarlet was alive. And she was close.
    Gabriel, Nathaniel, and Tristan rode in Gabriel’s carriage to a small inn far outside of town where the doctor had said Scarlet would be.
    Tristan rolled his shoulders, willing the ache from his bones as they rode along. When they’d first left, Tristan’s body had been so filled with pain that he’d groaned at every jostle and bump in the road. But the longer they rode toward Scarlet, the less he hurt. It was as if the mere idea of Scarlet being alive was curing him.
    He ran both hands through his hair, his nerves jumping like feet on hot coals.
    When the carriage finally pulled up to a large inn, they jumped out and headed for the front door of the old building. Upon entering, the three of them stopped in their tracks.
    There were people. Everywhere.
    “Brilliant,” Tristan muttered.
    “The inn-yard must be hosting a play today.” Nathaniel strained his neck, trying to see above the crowd to the courtyard beyond. People lined the halls and outside balconies drinking, singing, and laughing. It was chaos.
    “How will we find her in this mess?”
    “We’ll split up.” Nathaniel looked at Gabriel. “You take the right wing. Tristan, you take the left. Since I do not know what she looks like, I‘ll ask the people upstairs about the girl without her memories.”
    Gabriel nodded and headed down his designated wing, while Nathaniel clutched Tristan’s shoulder and gave him a brief smile, as if he understood Tristan’s desire to run around the inn and knock people over until he found Scarlet. “Deep breath, my friend. If she is here, we shall find her.”
    Before Tristan could respond, Nathaniel headed upstairs.
    Tristan strode through the left wing of the inn. People, people, people.
    No Scarlet.
    At the back of a large gathering room, he found the innkeeper counting a handful of coins he’d collected from play-goers, dropping them into a pouch one by one.
    “Pardon me.” Tristan hoped his smile looked warm rather than impatient. “I’m looking for a young girl named Scarlet Jacobs. I believe she was sent to work here a few weeks ago.”
    The innkeeper looked up. “The mad girl?”
    Tristan almost hit the man. “The very same.”
    “What do you want with her?”
    Life. Love. A reason to breathe again.
    Tristan said, “I have something of hers.”
    This was true .
    The innkeeper waved toward the right wing. “The back of the washrooms.”
    Tristan gave a nod and turned away, fighting through crowds of people lining the right wing. He picked up his pace.
    Gabriel was going to find her first, dammit. And he would probably say something wildly inappropriate or have the poor girl drunk by the time Tristan’s feet carried him to the washrooms.
    Bloody Gabriel.
    As he hurried along, a strange sensation came over him. Strange and warm and…wonderful.
    Love.
    A happy love—a safe love—blossomed in Tristan’s chest, spreading like serene fog through his body. Love for…Gabriel?
    Tristan stopped walking. Maybe this was part of his illness. Maybe he’d contracted a sickness that began with excruciating pain and then morphed into a ridiculous love of one’s sibling.
    No. That did not sound right.
    And come to think of it, he was no longer in horrific pain. Very odd. In fact, the atrocious pain he’d suffered just that morning was almost completely gone from his veins.
    Shaking his head, Tristan moved forward, nearly running as he made his way to the other side of the building, rounding corners and knocking into people shamelessly.
    Soon, he found the washrooms and skidded across wet floors until he managed to connect his feet to the solid ground. He paused and headed for a small room off to the side. Why, he wasn’t sure,