Cinn's Arc

Chapter 6 of 12

The walk back to the fire felt longer than the walk away. Cyf kept pace beside Cinn, saying nothing. Her bone token rode in her palm, warm from her grip. She knew the entity behind the shield had her name now. It would speak against her at the fire. If she answered, she would have to explain the mapping, the pendulum, the plan. That meant exposing Cyf. She had no answer that saved them both. A girl waited at the edge of the ring. Light green skin, black space buns, butterfly clips, a purple skirt. Cinn had seen her at past gatherings, always watching, never seated. A seeker like Cinn, chasing proof the elders kept at arm's length. "You're the one it marked," the girl said. No greeting. "I'm Sky. I felt it turn. Everyone felt it. They think it was you." "It wasn't," Cinn said. "I know." Sky looked at Cyf, then back. "It's been here longer than any of us. The elders won't say its name. I've been trying to prove it's real for a year." Cinn understood the opening. She did not have to defend herself. She could make the entity the thing on trial. But the entity would test her first, pick at her story, force the lie into the open. Unless she gave it something it wanted more than her name. She pulled the sun-shaped relic from her bag. An elder had pressed it on her years ago. Its center gem woke under her thumb and glowed. The entity hungered to be seen. She would offer it that. "When it speaks, let it," Cinn told Sky. "Don't argue. Just confirm what you felt. You're a witness. So am I." Sky nodded once. "Finally." They stepped into the ring together. The shamans fell quiet around the painted stones. The flame stood tall and steady. Then the pressure came, the same shield Cinn could not read. It pushed behind her eyes. It knew her. She did not wait for its accusation. She raised the relic. The gem flared. "You've been hiding in their fire," she said to the empty air. "I'm the first to say so out loud. Not to hunt you. To see you." The pressure stopped pushing. It held, listening. "I felt it turn tonight," Sky said. "Everyone did." The eldest shaman rose slowly. He stared at the space above the flame, where the air bent light. "We never named it," he said. His voice shook. "How long?" Cinn lowered the relic. The entity had not accused her. It had let her speak for it. She had traded its exposure for her safety, and the shamans now saw the thing they had sheltered. "I keep my seat," she said. Not a question. "You keep it," the eldest said. "But now it answers to you, and we answer to neither of you." He looked afraid. "What have you brought into our fire."