The Cracking
In the great hall of Voss Castle Lord Edmund Voss sat at the head of the village council table. The elders of Greywick sat on either side, faces tight with worry. Camille stood behind his chair, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder like a trusted adviser. An old elder struck the table. “The mist reached the eastern fence last night. It’s never come that far before.”
Camille squeezed his shoulder gently and leaned down to murmur in his ear. “Seal the gate. Permanently. Before whatever’s stirring in there reaches us first.”
Lord Voss looked down at his hands. His fingers locked together. “My daughter is still in there.”
“Sealing the gate won’t kill her. It will only keep the rest of us alive.” Camille’s voice held no hesitation.
Lord Voss closed his eyes for a long moment, then gave a single nod. Another elder rose, still uncertain. “And if the girl is still alive in there when we seal it.”
Camille answered before he could speak, cold and decisive. “Then Greywick mourns one, instead of burying all of us.”
In the forest Sera sat on a fallen log beside a small stream, drying her hair in the early light. Lucian approached and set a handful of red berries beside her. “They’re not poisonous. I checked.”
She picked one up and smiled for the first time in days. “You checked, or you just didn’t want to be wrong twice.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, almost a real smile. His hand rested near hers on the log. Their little fingers touched.
The ground under them trembled. Far off a ward stone cracked with a loud sound. Lucian stood at once, ears sharp toward the noise, face tense. Thick black smoke poured from the crack and rose into a shape taller than a man. It had two burning red eye-sockets and a mouth-slit that moved without sound. “What is that.” Sera backed away, voice tight with fear.
“Something that should have stayed buried. Run.” He pushed her behind him.
He charged the smoke-shape. The horn on his forehead blazed brighter than she had ever seen. A tendril of smoke wrapped his arm and dragged him across the ground. He dug both feet in and pulled back, pouring the light from the horn into the trapped arm. A burst of green light tore the shape apart and drove the pieces back into the crack. The stone sealed. The light steadied but was noticeably dimmer. Lucian dropped to one knee. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth. His body shook.
Sera reached him before he fell forward. She pulled his arm over her shoulder and helped him to the nearest tree. He leaned back against the trunk, eyes closed, still breathing hard. She tore a strip from her sleeve and wiped the blood from his mouth. Her hand stayed on his cheek longer than necessary. He opened his eyes and covered her hand with his own, holding it there.
“Don’t do that again.”
“Which part. Almost dying, or checking the berries.” His voice was rough, half joking.
She laughed softly even though her eyes were wet. She pulled her hand back and turned away to hide her face. “Both. Obviously.”
He caught the hand she had withdrawn and drew it gently back toward him. He did not let go.
They sat against the tree for a long time, looking out at the forest. I keep telling myself this is survival. Nothing more. She glanced at their joined hands, then at his face, eyes still closed. Then why does it feel like something I’m afraid to lose. She tightened her grip for a moment, then loosened it, as if checking herself.
At the forest gate in Greywick workers under Alaric Vane’s direction set the last iron plates into place and sealed them with glowing red wards. Gideon watched from a distance, fist clenched. Vane stepped up beside him. “The seal makes the wood weaker, not stronger. Every ward it spends holding this gate is one less ward protecting her.”
Gideon turned to him. “So the more they seal, the weaker it gets. And the sooner I get her back.”
At dusk the final gate closed with a heavy sound. Red light spread across the iron. Camille watched, the corner of her mouth lifting. Deep in the forest another ward stone went dark without warning. Sera sat leaning against Lucian’s shoulder as he slept, exhausted, unaware that the light behind them had vanished.