Gnewt's Arc

Chapter 6 of 14

One of the elders stepped onto the platform and raised a staff. The crowd went quiet. Gnewt felt the weight of the journal in her pouch, felt the cold press of the iron ring against her scales. She'd gotten the evidence and the witnesses into position. Now came the part she couldn't control—whether Croaker and Guidry would actually speak when the moment arrived, or whether fear would silence them the way it had silenced six others before. The elder opened his mouth to pronounce judgment, and Gnewt watched Croaker's claws curl tight around the fang she'd left him. He was still afraid, but he was here. That would have to be enough. The elder's voice carried across the gathering. "Stryker has refused to reveal the gem's location. The judgment stands. She will be removed at dawn." Murmurs rippled through the crowd, some approving, others uncertain. Gnewt's tongue flicked once toward the marked X where her witnesses stood. Croaker opened his mouth, then closed it. Guidry stared at the ground. Neither moved. The crowd began to turn away, the verdict accepted. Gnewt had miscalculated—evidence meant nothing if no one would speak it aloud. She slithered forward through the nets, straight toward the platform. If her witnesses wouldn't act, she would. She reached the torchlight and rose up where the entire village could see her. The crowd pulled back, hissing. Gnewt pulled the rusted ring from her pouch and held it high. The metal circle caught the firelight, the small gray bead at its center unmistakable to anyone who'd known Stryker's grandmother. "This belonged to her," Gnewt said, her voice cutting through the noise. "The elders kept it locked away for forty years. They knew about the curse. They have records of everything they've hidden." She turned toward the platform where the elders stood frozen. The crowd went silent, staring at the ring, then at the elders. One elder reached for his staff, but another caught his arm. They'd been caught, and the village had seen it. Croaker stepped forward from the X, holding the journal above his head. "She's telling the truth," he said, his voice shaking but clear. "I've read their records. They silenced six others before Stryker. They orchestrated the curse her family carried." Guidry moved beside him, nodding once. The crowd turned from Gnewt to the elders, demanding answers. The elders said nothing, but their silence confirmed everything. Gnewt lowered the ring and slipped back into the shadows. She hadn't convinced the village through trust or careful argument—she'd forced the truth into the open where it couldn't be ignored. The elders' verdict on Stryker no longer mattered. The village's verdict on the elders had just begun, and Gnewt had given them enough evidence to demand a reckoning.