Draxin Alistair (16)'s Arc

Chapter 11 of 22

They walked back from Grants Lake in a line. Dante led. Spike walked at the rear, quiet for once. Draxin kept his eyes on the dirt. The purple scarf still hung at his throat, but it felt borrowed now, like a coat that didn't fit. Zag pressed his small green cap against Draxin's neck and said nothing. The mushroom creature knew when to be quiet. At the hideout, Dante stopped at the door under the flame banner. He pulled the cigar from his teeth and pointed it at Draxin. "Wash up. Eat. We talk in the morning." Then he went inside. The door shut. Draxin stood in the yard with his hand still on the warm, useless coal in his chest. "Hey, banner boy." Spike came around the corner of the shed. Short. Mohawk sharp as knives. He was smiling with all his teeth. He had been smiling like that since the market. "Walk with me," Spike said. "Round back. Captain wants the stone counted." It was a lie. Draxin knew it was a lie. He walked anyway. His legs were tired of being afraid. Behind the shed, out of sight of the door, Spike stopped. He held up one hand. A bead of black ink rose out of his palm and hung in the air. It hissed against a fallen leaf and ate a hole through it. "You froze," Spike said. "Four of them. Captain did the work. You stood there like a post." He flicked another drop into the dirt. It smoked. "He won't say it. I will. You're dead weight. And dead weight in my crew? I trim it." Draxin backed against the wall. He shoved at the stone in his chest. Come out. Please. The warmth stayed a warmth. Spike raised his hand. The ink gathered into a fat black drop above his fingers, big as a fist. Zag jumped. The little mushroom leapt from Draxin's shoulder and slapped his spotted cap over Spike's eyes. Spike swore and swatted. The ink drop flew wide and hit the shed wall. The wood hissed and sank in on itself. Draxin ran. Not away. Forward. He drove his shoulder into Spike's stomach and knocked the short man flat. Then he grabbed Zag and bolted for the tree line. "Kid!" Spike shouted after him, laughing now, angry-laughing. "You just made it worse! You hear me? Worse!" Draxin crashed through the brush. His chest burned, not with the stone, with breath. He did not stop until the hideout banner was gone behind the leaves. He crouched by a root and held Zag against his ribs. The stone in his chest was still warm. Still silent. Dante's protection was back at the shed. He had run from it. He was alone in the forest again. And now Spike knew he would run. He tied the scarf tighter and started walking deeper in.