Alter Kindwood's Arc

Chapter 6 of 6

Alter came down the ridge at a run. The star-cape pulled him faster than his legs alone could carry. Below, the village sat inside its spiked palisade, red banners hanging still in the dusk. Something tall and pale paced the outside of his wooden fence. It wore his shape. It struck the fence with an open hand and the wood shuddered. Alter stopped in the pines. He counted what he had. One cape, burning down like a candle. One creature stronger than him. A village behind sealed gates that would shoot him on sight. If he fought alone, the cape would empty before the Hollow Man fell. He needed hands beside him. He had no way to call for them. A wet slap sounded behind him. Gorbov pushed through the ferns, broad blue shoulders scraping bark, the spiked necklace bouncing on his chest. The merchant had come back. Alter felt something in his ribs loosen at the sight. "Saw the thing at the wall," Gorbov said. "Thought you might be dead already." "They won't open the gate for me," Alter said. "They will for you. Tell them the fence-grower is here. Tell them to bring iron and fire to the north wall. Tell them the thing at their gate is not me." Gorbov looked at the cape, then at the Hollow Man. "They'll shoot me too." "Show them the circlet you gave me. Say I sent it back as proof." Alter lifted the silver circlet from his antlers. His skull felt lighter and heavier at once. He pressed the circlet into Gorbov's wet palm. Then he reached into his cape and drew out the stone bird. In his hands it stretched and hardened into a black obsidian owl, gold lines running along its wings. Not a boat this time. A signal. "When you reach the wall, set this on the gatepost," Alter said. "I'll light it from the trees. They'll see where to come." Gorbov took the owl under one thick arm and ran for the settlement path. Alter climbed a pine and waited. He watched the Hollow Man rip a slat from the fence. Gorbov reached the gate. He held up the circlet and shouted. The gate cracked open. The owl went up on the post. Alter opened his hand toward it. A thread of cape-light left his chest and struck the obsidian. The owl blazed gold. Every window in the village turned toward it. Men came out with torches and iron pikes. The blacksmith led them, mohawk lit red by the fire he carried. They saw the pale thing at the north fence and understood. Alter dropped from the pine and ran to meet them. The cape burned brighter. His strength held. For the first time, he was not alone in the dark. The Hollow Man turned from the fence and saw them coming.