Dom Thornwood's Arc

Chapter 1 of 14

Dom Thornwood crouched at the edge of Mothwood and studied the prints in the moss. They glowed faint blue, hooves pressed into a ground that wasn't quite this one. Six months of tracking, and the moth-stag still slipped away each time he drew close. Tonight, the old trapper at the fire had told him the truth. The moth-stag could not be tamed alone. Only one person had ever known the heart of Mothwood, and her name was Renni Ashfire. Dom rose and walked the long path to her cabin. Vines wrapped the logs like green ropes. A wooden trunk sat by the door, lid thrown back, rain-stained pages curling inside. He knew before he stepped onto the porch that no smoke rose from the chimney. The door was unlatched. Dust lay thick on the table. He understood then what the trapper had not said plainly. Renni was gone. The guild had seen to that. He almost turned back. Then he saw the journal. It sat alone on a shelf, thick and weathered, the letters MS pressed into the leather. He lifted it with both hands. Inside were drawings of wide moth wings, lantern eyes, hoofprints that did not match the soil. Pages of notes in a tight, careful hand. At the back, underlined twice: The stag answers to two. Never one. Dom sat on the cold floor and read until the candle guttered. Renni had paid for every word here. He could feel the weight of it in the ink. She could not stand beside him now. But her knowledge could, if he carried it carefully. He closed the journal and slid it into his coat. The goal had not changed. The path had. He needed a second rider — someone willing to walk into Mothwood with him, knowing what it cost the last one who tried.