Caius's Arc

Chapter 7 of 10

The scrapyard stretched ahead of them for another half mile, twisted metal rising from the earth like ribs broken and frozen. Caius's companion called out each hazard as they walked — jutting steel, human femur, skull half-buried in rust. The shard pulsed steady in his paw, warm but not burning. His companion stopped. Caius heard her breath catch, different from the careful pauses when she spotted bones. "There's something ahead," she said. "A building. Brick and wood, half-collapsed. Red mushrooms growing all over it." The healer moved closer. "How far ahead?" "Fifty yards. Maybe less." Caius felt his chest tighten. The shard wasn't burning — whatever machines watched them, they weren't close. But the mushrooms meant The Red had been here. His companion stepped forward again, then stopped a second time. Her voice went quiet. "Caius. There's cloth in the rubble. Blue fabric with red thread." Caius's paw tightened on the shard. "Where?" "Tangled in the metal. Near the building's foundation." She moved closer, and Caius heard her kneel. "It's torn. Stained. But the stitching is the same as ours." The healer's voice came sharp. "Oswin died two days behind us. How did his patch get here?" Caius knelt beside his companion, his paws shaking as she placed the torn cloth in his palm. The fabric was stiff with dried blood and dirt, the red thread frayed but intact along one edge. He'd given Oswin this patch four days ago at the garden fence. Oswin had died half a mile back, mushrooms blooming from his chest, and Caius had marked the spot in his mind by counting steps. But the patch was here, far ahead, tangled in bones that predated their journey. His companion's voice was steady but cold. "Either someone carried it forward, or Oswin walked farther than you thought before he died." The healer touched his own patch inside his robe. "Or something dragged him." Caius sat back on his heels, the fabric heavy in his paw. He'd told them he didn't know what waited ahead, but he'd believed he knew what was behind. The scrapyard had taken that certainty and broken it. "We keep moving," he said finally. "But we assume nothing stays where we leave it." His companion took the patch from him and folded it carefully. "Then we don't leave anyone behind again." Caius nodded, and the weight of that promise settled between them like a vow.