Gnewt's Arc

Chapter 4 of 14

Gnewt slipped through the shadows between the village huts, her body low against the mud. The storm shelter sat on the north edge, its reinforced walls dark against the swamp beyond. Two guards stood at the entrance, rifles resting against their shoulders. She pulled the driftwood torch from her pouch and wedged it between the bamboo bars of the jail's outer fence, then struck it against the rough wood until the oil-soaked cloth caught flame. The fire spread fast, crackling loud enough to pull attention but controlled enough not to threaten the cells inside. Gnewt hissed once, sharp and urgent, then disappeared into the marsh grass as the guards turned toward the light. Their boots splashed through shallow water as they rushed toward the jail, shouting orders to the lizard already stationed there. The shelter entrance stood unguarded. Gnewt circled back and found Croaker and Guidry waiting in the vine shadow where she'd told them to meet. She motioned toward the shelter with her snout, and they moved without hesitation. The heavy door opened with a pull, and all three slipped inside before the guards could finish dousing the torch. Gnewt had bought them the opening they needed, but now they were locked in a room that the elders controlled. The cost of getting inside was that she'd just announced exactly where to find them. The shelter was smaller than she'd expected, its walls lined with barrels and crates that smelled of old fish and marsh rot. But in the corner sat a wooden chest with iron bands, its lock broken and hanging loose. Croaker moved toward it while Guidry kept watch at the door. Inside the chest were scrolls marked with the elders' seal and a leather journal thick with pages. Gnewt's tongue flicked as she recognized the handwriting on the first page. It matched the diary she'd smuggled to Stryker. This wasn't just evidence of one cover-up. It was proof of all of them. The elders had kept records of every person they'd silenced, every question they'd buried, written in their own hand. Croaker tucked the journal under his arm and nodded once. They had what they came for, and now the elders would have to silence all three of them or admit the truth in front of the entire village.