Elowen Cask's Arc

Chapter 9 of 10

Elowen reached the tree as the water climbed. The river had risen fast tonight. Where the roots parted, black water churned into a gap the width of a door. Petra's map was right. But the map had not warned her of the other danger. Her mother's contract sat folded in her coat, wax-sealed on paper thin as a dead leaf. That water would soak it in seconds. Soaked, the fae lord's signature would run and blur, and her leverage would dissolve into pulp. She crouched at the flooded gap and thought. The contract could not get wet. She had no oilcloth, no dry box. If she carried it through, she lost everything she had bled for. If she left it behind, she had nothing to bind him. A soft glow pulled her eyes to the bank. Flowers grew in a thick bed near the roots, blossoms holding light like cupped water. Their broad petals were waxed and slick. Rain beaded on them and rolled off. She tore a handful of the largest blooms and wrapped the contract, layer over layer, until the paper was sealed in a slick green shell. She bound it with a strip cut from her coat lining. It might hold. It might not. The water road behind her split, and hooves struck the mud. The bone-white unicorn stepped from the dark, horn low, eyes fixed on her coat. Last time it had rejected her for the stolen debts she carried. She had burned those debts. Only two papers remained now, and one was her own mother's. "I gutted the pile," she said. "You know that." The unicorn came closer. It lowered its head and pressed the flat of its horn against the wrapped bundle. It did not flinch. It did not turn away. Whatever it smelled, it let her keep. She understood then. The creature would not carry a thief through drowning water. But it would carry a true debt. She pressed the wrapped contract high against the unicorn's neck, above the flood line, and gripped its mane. The unicorn plunged into the gap. Water slammed cold over Elowen's legs and chest. The roots scraped past. She held the bundle up with one aching arm as the current dragged at her. The gap tightened. For one breath she was fully under, and she felt the water clawing at the flowers. Then the unicorn heaved up, and they broke into still air inside the hollow. She dropped onto stone and unwrapped the bundle with shaking hands. The outer petals were torn and dripping. But inside, the contract was dry. The signature held, black and whole. Torchlight moved ahead. The fae lord's court opened before her, and figures turned at the sound of her landing. She had her leverage, and she was inside his walls. There was no crack left to crawl back through.