Ben Dover's Arc

Chapter 57 of 150

Ben woke before dawn to a sound he knew. A low hum, thin as a wire, coming from behind the stove. The wax seals on the chest were cracking. Three days of jostling on the wolf, then the cart, had done the work. If the hum leaked, the blue-scaled creature would find him inside a day. He pulled the crate out and set it on the floor. Amber knelt beside him with a lamp. The wax along the lid had split in two places. A third crack ran down the front seam. Ben pressed a finger to it and felt the vibration in the wood. "How long?" Amber said. "Hours. Maybe less if the wind shifts." He had no wax. He had no Al. He had a stove, a cottage, and a scout ring closing from the east. A knock hit the door. Two quick, one slow. Amber lifted the knife. Ben lifted the lid off the woodbox for a weapon. Amber cracked the door. Sandy Beach stood on the step. Her hood was wet. She had walked out of the Thornwood two weeks back and kept walking. Ben had last seen her past the cider press. She looked at Ben's face, then at the humming crate. "It's leaking," she said. "I know." "There's a stone shed a quarter mile west. Old shrine. Locals call it the scared house. Thick walls. No windows." "Sound still gets out." "Not through that stone. I slept inside it two nights ago. Couldn't hear the road." Ben looked at Amber. Amber shrugged. "Better than here." They wrapped the crate in the cottage's felt rug and loaded it back on the cart. Sandy took point. The path wound through pine and wet fern. The hum grew louder as they moved. Ben kept one hand on the lid to feel the cracks widen. The shrine sat low in a hollow. Its front was carved into a wide, worried face, mouth open like a doorway. Stone eyes stared down at them. Sandy pushed the door in. The inside was dry and black. The walls were two feet thick. They set the crate in the center. Ben struck a match and lit a stub of candle. On a shelf along the back wall sat a small metal canister, dented, its lid pressed down under a stone. Beside it lay a painted mask with a wide screaming mouth. Old offerings. Ben ignored them. He closed the door. The hum dropped to nothing. He put his ear to the outside wall. Silence. Amber came out last and shut the door behind her. "It holds." Ben sat on the step. He had the chest. He had a stone box around it that the creature could not hear through. But the seals were still failing inside, and the shrine could not travel. He had bought a day. Maybe two. He had no way to move the chest again without breaking the silence.