Ben Dover's Arc

Chapter 34 of 150

Ben cut west off the road with the young blue-scaled thing still watching from the weeds. Three full boxes on his back. Two relics named on paper. No empty box. He could not carve one in time, and he could not lift a relic without one. He needed a shortcut, and he could think of only one person who might sell him a finished box without asking why. "Barb's four days south," Justin said again. "We don't have four days." "We don't need Barb," Ben said. "We need what Barb makes. She trades. Someone closer might have bought one from her and never used it." Anita looked up. "The plague doctor. Payne worked these border towns. Payne knew the sickness before we did. Payne collects." They found the doctor two hours west, inside a small stone house with a cracked porch and a downturned face carved above the door. Payne stood at a table sorting dried leaves into paper twists, hood up, bandaged hands moving fast. Ben remembered those hands putting down the barking animal and the sick pup in one afternoon. His stomach turned. "You," Payne said. Not surprised. "I need a carved box," Ben said. "Sad face. Wood. Sealed. Do you have one?" Payne kept sorting. "One. Bought it off a woman heading south. Never opened it." "Sell it to me." "I don't want coin." "What then." Payne set down the leaves. "Three towns sick in a week. I need someone who can carry a jar to the fourth without opening it. You go north anyway. Take it. Leave it on the porch of the house with the blue door. Don't drink it. Don't spill it." "Done," Ben said. Payne went behind a curtain and came back with a small wooden box. Sad face on the lid. Downturned mouth, heavy lids, real work. Ben pressed his thumb to the carving. Clean. He opened it. Empty inside, felt-lined already. "Who carved this," Ben said. "Barb. Signed it under the base." Ben tilted it. B.D. scratched into the wood. His shoulders dropped an inch. He had not known he was holding them tight. Payne handed him a sealed clay jar the size of a fist. "Blue door. North side. Don't be seen setting it down." Ben tucked the jar into his pack and the empty box into his coat, close to his ribs. Outside, Joe was already watching the ridge. "Small one's gone," he said. "That means it went to tell." "Then we move," Ben said. "Nearer relic first. Half a day west." Anita fell in beside him. Justin took the rear. Ben had four boxes now. Three full, one empty, and a jar he could not open riding against his back. The big blue-scaled thing was still coming. But this time, when he reached the relic, he had somewhere to put it.