Aldric Haze's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Aldric Haze had brewed a cure for every sickness in the valley, but not the one killing his wife. She lay two floors above him, thin as kindling, cursed with a wasting sickness that ate her strength each night. He had the recipe. He had the fire, the flasks, the years of skill. He lacked one thing: an ingredient rare enough to hold the cure together. He read the recipe again by candlelight. The words had not changed. "Anchor with living blueflame," it said. Only the fire from a certain wolf could bind the brew. Without it, the cure would fall apart in the pot. Cheaper roots and salts might mimic it, but he knew the truth. Those would only sour inside her and make her worse. His home wrapped around a great obsidian tree, its purple wood shot through with glowing crystals. Aldric climbed the winding stairs to his highest workroom. On the table sat every substitute he could buy. Ash from a hearth. Powdered ember-stone. He swept them all to the floor. He would not poison her to feel busy. That left one plan, and it was reckless. A small dragon slept on the windowsill. It was the size of a cat, green and squat, with a frog's wide body and webbed feet. Its little wings twitched as it dreamed. Aldric had raised it from an egg. He called it his sourest student, because it stole his lunch and burned his notes. "Wake up," Aldric said. "I need a hunter, not a houseguest." The dragon opened one lively eye. It knew the wolf. It had chased the creature through the trees before, a dark beast crowned in blue fire, and come home singed and proud. That flame was the anchor. Aldric could not catch the wolf. But the dragon could track it. They went out under a cold moon. The dragon flew low, nose to the wind. Aldric followed with a warded jar, his beard damp with sweat. "Slower," he hissed. "I'm old, not winged." The dragon found the wolf drinking at a black pool. Blue fire rippled along its spine. Aldric crept close and opened the jar. The wolf turned. He did not want the animal. He wanted one lick of its living flame. The dragon dove. It nipped the wolf's tail, then rolled aside, laughing in dragon fashion. The wolf snapped fire at it. A ribbon of blue flame arced wide, and Aldric caught it in the jar. The glass flared and sealed. He had his anchor. The wolf fixed its yellow eyes on him. It did not flee. It lowered its head and growled, and the fire on its back grew brighter, hotter, hungry. Aldric clutched the jar to his chest and stepped back. He had the ingredient at last. Now he had to survive the thing he had stolen it from.