Chris NightOwl's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Chris flew home before the sun cleared the roofs. The pull grew stronger with every foot he crossed. Then the ground answered. A crack tore across his yard and split toward the houses down the row. Dust rose. A dog barked wild inside a fence. The thing beneath the town was not waiting for him. The earth heaved again. A fence post snapped and fell. Down the row, a light flicked on in a bedroom window. People were still inside these houses. Chris landed hard and felt the crack widen under his boots. He had no amulet, no control, only power straining behind a cracked wall inside him. But he could not let the ground swallow his neighbors while he searched. He ran along the split, tracking its source. The hum grew louder in his skull, the same hum the old man had promised. At the far end of the yards, past a leaning shed, the earth had broken open. A stone arch stood exposed in the pit, older than any house here. A yellow light burned above its keystone. This was the door. It hummed like him. Chris dropped inside. The passage forked at once. Three tunnels, each pretending to be the way. He shut his eyes and let the hum guide him. Left, then a dead end of blank stone. He backtracked. A floor plate sank under his weight and stone teeth slammed shut behind him, missing his heel. The traps were made to stop men with no power. His body was faster now. He climbed, ducked, and kept moving toward the loudest pull. Behind and above, the ground boomed. He heard timber crack, a scream cut short, then feet running. His neighbors were fleeing. Every second he wasted, the split ate more of their street. He forced himself deeper instead of turning back. The amulet was the only way to fight it. Retreat only fed the thing. The last tunnel opened into a low room. A stone altar stood at its center. On it rested a necklace, an amulet glowing soft gold, steady where everything else shook. Chris crossed the floor and lifted it. He set the chain over his head. The wave hit him. It was not pain. It was order. The wild heat in his hands cooled and folded inward, and he understood it for the first time. He could hold the starlight, aim it, release it. The power stopped ruling him and started answering. He felt every crack in the ground above like fingers on his own skin. And through that new sense, he felt the presence turn. It knew he had the amulet now. Below him, deep in the rock, something vast pulled itself upward, done sleeping. The floor trembled harder. Chris gripped the amulet and looked up toward the light of the entrance. He was ready to fight now. So was the thing that had woken to meet him.