Asher Converse's Arc

Chapter 5 of 30

They reached the grove at midday. The trees stood grey and cracked, their bark peeling like burnt skin. Asher had left the tavern behind and brought his axe. Chalam walked ahead, his cracked staff held out. Kael kept a knife loose in his hand. Rowan moved through the dead ferns without a sound, reading the ground. Tucker came last, quiet for once. No one bought a round out here. "The rot is thickest below," Rowan said. He knelt and pressed his palm to the soil. "It bleeds up from one place. There." He pointed to a hollow where the trees leaned inward, forming a pit. Chalam stepped to the edge and looked down. His face went tight. "The seal," he said. "It's here. And it's open." He drew a vial from his satchel, the first of three. He poured chalk dust into the pit. The dust did not fall straight. It curled and spun, dragged by something below. Asher felt it then. A pressure behind his eyes, like a hand pushing. "Chalam," he said. "Something's awake down there." "Someone opened it," Chalam said. "Recent. The break is clean." He gripped his staff and the wood groaned. A crack ran further up its length. "My staff can't hold this. It's too old and too big." A sound rose from the pit. Not a voice, but close to one. The dead trees shuddered. Roots pulled free of the dirt and lashed at the air. One caught Kael across the chest and threw him back. He hit a trunk, rolled, and came up with his knife. "We seal it or we run," Rowan said. He nocked an arrow and shot a root that reached for Chalam. The shaft split it. "I can steady the wood. Chalam, give me the staff." Chalam hesitated, then threw it. Rowan caught it, pressed both hands to the crack, and spoke low words in a tongue Asher did not know. The wood stopped groaning. The pressure eased. "Now," Rowan said. "Chalam. Close it." Chalam poured the second vial into the pit. Lodestone powder, black and heavy. It settled over the churning dust and held. The roots slowed. The sound faded to nothing. Chalam sagged. Asher pulled Kael to his feet. The man's shirt was torn but his eyes were clear. "Sealed?" Asher asked. "Sealed," Chalam said. "For now." He took his staff back from Rowan, and the crack in it had grown. "This won't hold long. Weeks, maybe. And I know something I didn't before." He turned to them. "Whoever opened it left a mark. A binding signature I've seen once. At another site, far from here. They're not chasing us. They're ahead of us. And they'll come back to finish what they started." Tucker wiped dirt from his vest. "So we bought time," he said. "Not peace." "Time," Chalam said. "And a name to hunt."