Alex Ryan's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Alex Ryan knelt at the edge of the yew grove and watched the dark water crawl toward the roots. It moved slow, but it moved. A thin oil-shine rode the top of it. Danu had named the taint an hour ago and gone quiet since. Alex had nothing in his coat but rosin and a folded chord chart. He set his bass against the nearest trunk. The yew was older than any church he had played in. Its lowest root drank from the ground six inches from the creeping stain. He knew what would work. Hozier would work. Hozier had already pulled black rot into his chest once and had not slept right since. Alex would not ask him. He had built his life around not asking him. He was here to keep the grove alive so the bass in his hands would not be the last piece of it left standing. That was the promise. Ask Hozier, and the promise broke. He whistled two low notes through his teeth. The ravens came down out of the yews without sound. They landed on his shoulders and on the roots and on the stones and waited. He did not like being watched by them. He spoke anyway. "Go and get Her sister," he said. "The one who patrols. Tell her the border's wet." They lifted off in one piece and were gone. Danu stepped out from behind the largest yew. Small, barefoot, crown of stones and yellow flowers. She looked at the water, then at him. "Thank you," she said. "For calling my little sister. I would not have." "You needed her." "I needed her a long time." A crow dropped through the branches and hit the moss as a woman. Dark hair, red cloak, mud already on her boots. Morrígan did not greet her sister. She crouched at the edge of the seep, dipped one finger in, and tasted it. "Fomorian," she said. "Old blood. They can smell the horse we drained." She wiped her mouth on her wrist. "Winter's calling in favors." Danu said, "Can you hold the line here?" "I can hold anything that has an edge." Morrígan looked at Alex. "You. Play something with a floor in it. The roots need something to stand on while I work." Alex sat down between two yews. He set the bass across his knee and pulled the low string. The note went into the ground before it went into the air. He felt the nearest root tighten around it. Morrígan walked into the black water without flinching and began to speak names to it in a language Alex did not know. The water stopped moving toward the trees. It did not retreat. It stopped. Danu watched the tree line past the grove. Something out there had noticed. She said, quiet, "They are coming now. All of them. Because you called her." Alex kept the note steady. The roots drank clean ground for one more hour.