Dane Korvit's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Dane Korvit had found the thing that killed Kylie, but his machete barely cut it. Blood slicked his hand and dotted his face. He backed toward a tiny cottage woven from wood and leaves as the creature crawled from the dark brush on too many jointed legs. The cottage door flew open. A small fairy hovered in the doorway, wand raised. Black mist curled around Lanalee Thornwillow’s green dress. Dane hated needing help, yet the monster had already proved steel meant nothing. “Get inside,” Lanalee said. “Unless you brought a better weapon.” “I brought the weapon that will kill it.” Dane lifted the machete. The creature rushed him. Dane swung for its neck. The blade struck with a dull crack and bounced away. A claw caught his jacket and tore the lower edge wider. He stumbled through the open door. Lanalee slammed the door with a flick of her wand. Roots burst from the floor and wrapped the frame. The cottage shook under the creature’s weight. Small round garden creatures scattered beneath the windows. Dane looked through the room. A leafy couch filled one wall. A warm hearth glowed beside a cramped kitchen. “Can your roots hold it?” “For seconds.” Lanalee pointed her wand at the fireplace. “Fire hurts what your blade cannot. Heat the steel, then strike its wound.” Dane shoved the machete into the hearth. The blood hissed away. Outside, claws punched through the door. A black tip hooked the wood and pulled. Lanalee’s face tightened. Her dark aura thickened around her shoulders. “You knew it would come here,” Dane said. “I knew it follows blood.” The door split. Dane pulled the machete from the coals. The edge glowed orange. He stepped into the gap before Lanalee could stop him. The creature drove a claw at his chest. Dane caught its arm on the blade. Flesh smoked. The creature shrieked and jerked back. He used the opening, seized the broken door, and rammed it against the creature’s head. Then he cut into the old wound beneath its jaw. The hot blade sank deep. Acid-green fluid poured over his hand. The creature thrashed once, then collapsed across the garden stones. Dane stared at the body, waiting for it to rise. It did not. He had killed Kylie's murderer. Lanalee landed beside the corpse and touched its wound with her wand. Her black mist drew into the dead flesh. A thin green trail appeared on the ground, leading away from the cottage. “One of its kind made this,” Lanalee said. “The trail leads to the one that sent it.” Dane wiped the machete on the ruined door. The weapon now held its edge against the creature’s burned hide. He followed the glowing trail as it left the garden.