Scarlett Hayes's Arc

Chapter 7 of 9

Scarlett stopped three steps from the sword. It leaned against the last post, its purple blade glowing, green tentacles curling around the hilt. To reach it she had to step past the shadow of the post, into the open. And in that open space, something waited. She had seen the dark shape shift beyond the far end of the bridge. The boy had dropped this blade and run from it. Now she had to walk toward it. "I'll get it," Azumi whispered. "I fly faster." "No." Scarlett caught her wrist. "You said you'd drop me and run. I'm not sending you first." Her heart slammed. But Azumi's hand was warm, and that steadied her more than anything. Next to her friend, the fear shrank to a size she could carry. Arachne crouched by the far post, eight legs folded, her purple eyes calm. The spider-woman had guided them across the falls and onto this bridge. Scarlett trusted her, even now. "The thing beyond," Scarlett said. "Will it move if I grab the sword?" "It moves when you're weak," Arachne said. "Go together. It fears bonded things." Scarlett looked at Azumi. "Bonded things. That's us." Azumi laughed, shaky. "Dumbest team ever." They went together. Azumi hovered close, one hand on Scarlett's shoulder. Scarlett walked into the open. The dark shape at the bridge's end swelled. A low growl rolled across the timber. Scarlett kept moving. She reached the post. She wrapped both hands around the tentacled hilt and lifted. The sword came free. Purple light flared up the blade and washed over the bridge. The growling stopped. From the shadow, a creature stepped into the glow. It was not the monster she feared. It was a striped beast, dog-shaped, with wide bat wings folded on its back. Its blue eyes fixed on Scarlett. It did not attack. It watched her, solemn, as if weighing what lived inside her. "It's reading you," Azumi breathed. "Not your mind. Your heart." Scarlett stood still, the glowing sword raised. She thought of the boy, of crossing the flood, of everything she'd risked to reach him. Then at the last second she thought of Azumi. The winged beast tilted its head. Then it lowered its front legs, a slow bow, and stepped aside. The path past the bridge lay open. "It let us through," Scarlett said. Her voice cracked with relief. Arachne rose. "It guards this crossing too. It bowed to what it found in you." She looked at the blade. "You carry that now. The boy couldn't. You can." Scarlett gripped the hilt tighter. She had the sword. She had passed the test the boy had failed. But the winged beast's bow told her something colder. The blade was not a prize. It was a burden meant for whoever chased the boy to the end. Beyond the bridge, the trail waited, and now she carried the thing he'd been too afraid to hold. She also holds an understanding in her heart of who she truly loves.