Chapter 23: Dust Haven.

The sound of two-stroke engines echoed through the dense forest, sending birds scattering as Ava and Talon weaved through the winding paths. Ava led the way, her movements smooth and sure as she maneuvered her bike around roots and rocks, while Talon lagged slightly behind, cursing under his breath at every rough bump.

Finally, they reached the crest of a ridge where the landscape opened up, revealing Dust Haven below. Ava cut the engine, taking a moment to take in the sight before them. The sprawling town seemed to rise out of the mud and sand, a mess of rusting ships repurposed into buildings, stacked crates, and makeshift shacks that served as homes and stores. Smoke drifted lazily up from chimneys and campfires, mingling with the thick salt-laden air blowing in from the ocean.

“You good back there, Swamp Rider?” Ava smirked as she pulled her goggles up, brushing a few stray hairs from her face.

Talon rolled his eyes. “I hate these bloody machines. Give me solid ground over this any day.” He adjusted his grip, clearly eager to get off the bike.

“Come on, let’s go see what passes for a welcome in this place,” Ava replied, kicking the bike into gear as she led the descent down the narrow trail toward Dust Haven.

As they rolled into the outskirts, they quickly realized that the town itself was a maze of winding alleys and cramped streets, a network of structures that felt both claustrophobic and exposed. People leaned out of windows and doorways, watching them with wary eyes, while others pretended not to notice at all. They were outsiders here, and the air hummed with a tension that kept their hands close to their weapons.

“Real welcoming, aren’t they?” Talon muttered, his gaze sweeping over the faces turned their way.

“Nothing we’re not used to,” Ava replied. “Let’s find a bar or a tavern. Blend in, pick up what we can.”

Talon shrugged. “Lead the way, Blondie. Though I have to say, with that arse of yours in them trousers, trouble’s bound to follow.” He smirked, clearly teasing her, but there was an edge of truth in his tone.

Ava snorted, rolling her eyes. “Please, trouble would follow you first. I’m just here to clean it up.”

They parked their bikes by a ramshackle building that bore a hand-painted sign reading *The Tattered Sail*. Inside, the dim lighting and thick haze of smoke lent the place a rough edge, as did the patrons, who drank and talked in low tones, casting sidelong glances at newcomers. Ava and Talon took seats at the bar, each keeping a hand casually near their weapons.

The bartender, a burly man with tattoos snaking up his arms, sidled over and grinned at them, filling two mugs with a frothy drink. “First round’s on me,” he said, sliding the drinks their way. “And a bit of advice—keep your heads down. This town chews up trouble and spits it out.”

“Appreciate it,” Talon replied, knocking back the drink with practiced ease.

Ava kept her drink in hand, her gaze wandering over the room. As she glanced to her left, she caught sight of a man openly staring at her, a leer playing across his face. She braced, expecting trouble, and sure enough, he swaggered over, his steps unsteady.

“Well, well,” he slurred, leaning far too close. “Didn’t know they were hiring beauties at the docks.” He reached out and gave her a hard slap on the rear, smirking. “How about I buy you a drink, eh?”

Ava’s eyes narrowed, but her voice remained steady, deadly calm. “I’ll give you a chance to walk away right now. Take it.”

The man’s smirk only widened. “Feisty, I like that.” He reached for her again, but before he could blink, Ava twisted his arm behind his back, slamming his face into the bar with a sickening thud. She leaned in close, her voice cold. “Now, that was me being nice.”

As she released him, the man stumbled back, cursing as he clutched his bloody nose, the entire bar going silent as the patrons looked on. The bartender chuckled, clearly amused. “You two might just survive here after all.”

Ava returned to her seat, and Talon burst out laughing. “I knew you’d get us in trouble.”

She shook her head, smirking. “I don’t know why! It’s not like I’m sticking it out.”

“It’s everywhere we go, Blondie,” he teased, still chuckling. “You don’t even have to try.”

Ava rolled her eyes, the hint of a smile breaking through. “Let’s just get what we came for and move on.”

They split up, each taking a different part of the bar to listen in on conversations and ask careful questions about Dust Haven. Talon joined a table of rough-looking merchants playing cards, slipping easily into their banter as he asked about trade and the town’s so-called leaders. Meanwhile, Ava struck up a conversation with a group of sailors, prying them for anything they might know about local syndicates and anyone who might have information on people passing through.

An hour later, they regrouped, slipping into a quiet corner of the bar.

“Place is worse than I thought,” Talon said, swirling the last of his drink. “Seems like every gang, pirate crew, and bandit king worth their salt has a stake here. They don’t have laws, just… alliances, as temporary as they come.”

Ava nodded. “I heard the same. But there’s someone here who might help us—a woman named Lydia. Supposedly, she’s got a hand in every deal in town.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Talon’s gaze hardened. “Then she might know something about my mother.”

Just then, the bartender returned to refill their drinks. “Couldn’t help overhearing,” he murmured, leaning in conspiratorially. “You looking for Lydia?”

Ava nodded. “Heard she may have information we need.”

The bartender chuckled darkly. “You’ll find her at the old shipyard. But word of warning—she’s not one for games. Come prepared, or you’ll regret it.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Ava replied, slipping him a few coins.

As they rose to leave, Ava caught sight of a figure lurking by the door, half-hidden in the shadows, watching them intently. She nudged Talon, who followed her gaze.

“Looks like we’re popular,” he muttered.

“Let’s go say hello,” Ava replied, heading toward the door, Talon following close behind with his hand hovering near his knife.

Outside, the figure stepped forward, revealing a scarred face and a glint in his eye. “You two are new here,” he said, his voice low. “Looking for trouble?”

“Looking for Lydia,” Ava replied calmly, her stance unflinching. “Know where she is?”

The man sneered. “Maybe. But information costs around here.”

Talon crossed his arms, his gaze cold. “Name your price.”

The man’s smirk deepened. “Come with me, and we’ll discuss it. But if you’re looking for answers, it won’t come cheap here.”

Ava and Talon exchanged a wary glance but followed, their senses on high alert. The man led them down a winding path through the darkened streets, the buildings looming close and casting long shadows in the moonlight. As they walked, Ava could feel the weight of the town’s eyes on them, a silent warning of the dangers that lay within Dust Haven.

The air grew colder, the sounds of the harbor growing faint as they ventured deeper into the labyrinth of alleys. Ava’s fingers brushed the hilt of her knife, her muscles tensed, ready for whatever trap might lie ahead. They had come seeking answers, but in a place like Dust Haven, the cost of those answers could be deadly.

The alleys of Dust Haven twisted around Ava and Talon like a maze, the air growing thick with salt and rot as they moved deeper into the town’s underbelly. The man leading them cast glances over his shoulder, his smile darkening with each step. Shadows lengthened, and more figures emerged from the murk, stepping in line behind them, eyes glinting with something cold and hungry. Ava’s hand slipped to her side, subtly signaling Talon to get ready. He responded with the slightest nod, his shoulders tensing as he matched her stride.

Their guide came to a sudden stop, blocking their path. His smirk widened, eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Alright, hand over your money, and the keys to those pretty bikes of yours.”

Ava’s lips curved into a humorless smile. “Is that so?”

But before her words fully registered, the men behind them lunged, their knives flashing under the thin sliver of moonlight that filtered through the alley. Ava spun on instinct, ducking beneath an oncoming blade and driving her boot into her attacker’s knee. Bone cracked under the force, and the man dropped, his scream swallowed by the alley’s shadows.

Talon’s arm shot out, catching an attacker by the throat and slamming him into the wall with a sickening thud. As the man’s hands clawed at Talon’s grip, another rushed forward. Talon shifted, his fist crashing into the second man’s jaw, sending him sprawling back into the dust.

A third man charged at Ava, his knife aiming for her midsection. She sidestepped, feeling the cold blade graze her side as she twisted away. In one fluid motion, she grabbed his wrist and drove her own knife into his shoulder, grinding the blade between bone and muscle. He howled, his weapon clattering to the ground. Without hesitation, she yanked him forward, smashing her head into his nose with a vicious headbutt. Blood spattered across her boots as he slumped to the ground, dazed and moaning.

Talon grappled with another assailant, his hand locking around the man’s wrist and twisting until the snap of bone echoed through the narrow passage. He shoved the broken-limbed man into his ally, his elbow crashing down on the first man’s face, collapsing his nose with a brutal crack. Blood and sweat mixed as the smell of iron filled the air, thick and suffocating.

One of the attackers tried to sneak up behind Ava, but she caught his movement out of the corner of her eye. She whirled around, raising her knife just in time to deflect his blade, feeling it slice across her shoulder. The pain burned hot and sharp, but she ignored it, grabbing his wrist and driving her knee into his ribs. He staggered, wheezing, only to find her knife embedding into his thigh. She twisted the blade, and he collapsed, writhing in agony.

Across the alley, Talon grabbed another thug, slamming his knee into the man’s gut with enough force to make him double over and retch. Without missing a beat, Talon threw him backward into an oncoming attacker, sending them both sprawling to the ground.

Another man made a desperate grab for Ava’s arm, but she evaded his grasp, grabbing him by the collar and ramming him face-first into the nearest wall. He slid down, his face smeared with blood, as he crumpled at her feet. She stepped back, breathing steady, her eyes cold and calculating as she surveyed the alley littered with bodies, some groaning, others lying still.

The few remaining attackers hesitated, exchanging wary glances. They’d expected an easy score, but what they got was a massacre. Talon took a step forward, a gleam of dark amusement in his eyes as he pulled out his knife, tossing it up and catching it easily. “Anyone left?” he called, his voice laced with a taunt.

Ava smirked, crossing her arms as the remaining men scattered, disappearing into the labyrinthine alleys.

Ava wiped the blood from her knife and glanced at Talon, their breathing steady, barely a break in composure despite the ferocity of the fight. Around them, the alley was painted in shades of crimson, bodies strewn like discarded rag dolls, the air thick with the coppery scent of blood.

“That all you got?” Talon muttered to the empty shadows, a grim smile tugging at his lips.

A quiet rustle sounded from the shadows, and Ava’s gaze snapped toward the source. A young girl emerged, her face pale and wary, her wide eyes darting over the carnage they’d left behind. She took a steadying breath and whispered, “Follow me. I’ll take you to Lydia.”

Ava and Talon exchanged a look but didn’t hesitate. They followed the young girl, their hands never far from their weapons as she led them through the winding alleys. The noises of Dust Haven grew fainter behind them, replaced by a silence that felt heavy, foreboding.

The young girl looked over her shoulder, her voice barely audible. “You’ll need to keep your guard up. People here won’t think twice about a knife in the back.”

They arrived at a nondescript building wedged between stacks of old crates and corroded metal walls. Inside, the dim light was barely enough to reveal the shadows of sailors muttering quietly at tables. At the far end, a figure stood, her posture commanding—a girl exuding authority with a presence that filled the room.

The young girl who had led them whispered into Lydia’s ear, casting a brief glance at Ava and Talon. Lydia’s eyes sharpened, assessing the newcomers before giving a curt nod. “Make them comfortable,” she instructed, her voice smooth yet firm.

Ava and Talon took seats at a table, catching their breath, but their senses remained on high alert, watching every movement around them. The room simmered with tension, an undercurrent of mistrust woven through every look and gesture.

Ava leaned closer to Talon, her voice low. “Stay sharp. We’re walking a fine line here.”

Talon gave a slight nod, his gaze locked on Lydia as she continued her conversation across the room. Whatever lay ahead, they were prepared to meet it head-on.