Dom Topper's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

The passage sealed behind Dom with a grinding thud. He turned and pressed both hands to cold stone where the opening had been. No seam. No door. The keeper's warning came back to him: liars don't return. He was inside now, and the way out was gone. He drew his dagger. Its blade held a faint glow, enough to light three steps ahead. Around him the grove stood black and thick. Trees crowded close. Leaves shifted with sounds he couldn't place. This was the kind of place he hated most. Too much noise. Too much cover hiding what he couldn't see. He could map a room in a minute. Here his skill felt useless. He held the dagger high and walked. The salamanders had come this way. If he found them, maybe he found the way out. He stepped over roots. He watched the ground, reading its slope the way he always did. The land tilted down and to the left. Water somewhere. He followed it. The glow led him to a small clearing. A carved chest sat under a glowing tree. Its wood was dark, wrapped in runes and set with bright stones. A gold lock held it shut. And beside it, cross-legged in the dirt, sat Lyra Threadweaver. Dom's chest loosened at the sight of her. His oldest friend. The one who never fell for his grin, who told him the truth when no one else would. He had no idea how she'd gotten here. He didn't care. "You followed me," he said. "I got here first." Lyra didn't look up. Her fingers worked a length of thread, pulling and knotting. "There's another way in. For people who don't lie their way through doors." Dom knelt beside her. "The passage sealed. I can't get back." "I know." She tied off the thread and held it up. A thin woven cord, faintly shining. "The chest is locked to a true answer. Not a key. It asks what you came for. Lie, and it stays shut forever. So do you." Dom looked at the lock. He thought of every easy answer he'd ever given. The grin. The line that opened doors. "I came to be great," he said. Then he stopped. That wasn't the whole of it. "No. I came because I'm tired of being nothing but a face. I want to earn something. Just once." The lock clicked. The lid rose. Inside, curled on soft cloth, lay the two salamanders. Their light woke slow, green and violet, spilling over Dom's hands. They did not scatter. They climbed onto his open palm. "They came," Dom whispered. "They came," Lyra said. She stood and brushed the dirt from her knees. "That was the true heart part. But the salamanders live here. Taking them out is a different problem." She looked at the black trees. "And I still haven't found the way home."