Craigory's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Craigory pushed himself up on the axe. The tremor stayed in his arm, but he walked. Kortana walked beside him. The watch pulsed in his pocket. They moved through the brush until the trees opened around one huge oak, its roots spread wide like a held hand. A man in red robes stood under the oak. He held a carved staff, pale wood with a bright gem at the top. He did not raise it. He only watched them come. "I can cut the bond," Dr Dillamond said. His voice was flat and clean. "The drain stops. She lives. You live. That is the simple part." He tilted the staff. The gem hummed. "The complication is the price. You walk away. You do not return. Not to her. Not to this forest. That is the trade. Nothing more." Craigory looked past him. A flock of bright birds wheeled above the oak, blue and pink and gold, moving as one body. He had watched birds like that from his old hut, back when his hands were steady and his life was small. They were what staying meant. They were what Kortana meant. Leaving meant never seeing any of it again. He felt the offer settle in his chest like a cold stone. For one breath, he weighed it. Then Kortana spoke, quiet beside him. "A man like that only hears one language." She did not look at the staff. She looked at Craigory's hand on the axe. Craigory lifted the axe. The tremor was still there. He swung anyway. The blade bit the staff at the grip. Wood split. The gem cracked and went dark. Dr Dillamond stepped back, unhurried, and folded his hands. "Then we proceed to the harder method," he said, and walked into the trees. The bond stayed. The drain stayed. But Craigory had not walked away, and now the man in red knew it for certain.