Aldric Thornwood's Arc

Chapter 5 of 10

Aldric walked fast through the snow, the pendant warming against his skin. He knew Cyrus would not wait long to send word. By now a runner was already moving toward the house, and his mother would read the report before the sky turned grey. She would close the last way back to the door marked H. He had hours, maybe less. He kept walking, counting each breath, trying to think of which gate, which key, which guard might still be his. He cut around the low rise and saw it then — a small stone shelter crusted thick with ice, its curved roof catching the first thin light. Cyrus stood inside it, bent over a folded page, a sealed tube already in his hand. A bird waited on his wrist. Aldric stopped at the edge of the snow. He was too far. The bird lifted before he could move, climbed past the ridge, and was gone toward the house. Cyrus turned and saw him. Neither spoke. Aldric felt the last door inside him close. The way back to H was lost. He pulled the pendant tight in his fist, turned from the shelter, and started walking the long way around — toward a gate his mother did not yet know he remembered. He reached the old service path as the sky paled. Where the gate had stood, a thick mound of cut thorn brush now choked the gap, packed tight with frozen berries and frosted leaves. Fresh boot prints crossed in and out. Guards had been here within the hour. Aldric stood very still. The last door was sealed, the last path blocked, the last friend gone. He turned his back on the brush and started walking toward the house itself. If every quiet way was closed, he would have to find her, and ask out loud. The house rose ahead, its windows already lit. Aldric stopped at the low wall and steadied his breath. He had spent years moving without being seen. That game was over. He pushed the pendant under his shirt, set his shoulders, and walked straight toward the front steps. The guards at the door watched him come. He did not slow. For the first time, he meant to be seen.