Gnewt's Arc

Chapter 8 of 14

The village gathered at dawn, torches flickering against the pale sky. Gnewt remained coiled near the lagoon's edge, watching them arrive. They came in clusters—fishermen, merchants, families with children held back from the water. Their voices rose in angry waves, demanding to know what she'd done. Stryker emerged from the crowd carrying a small wooden birdhouse mounted on a pole, its surface covered in moss and vines. She planted it in the mud between Gnewt and the villagers, marking her position. Croaker stood beside her, holding the journal they'd recovered from the shelter. Guidry took the other side, arms crossed. "The creature won't leave," Stryker said loud enough for everyone to hear. "Not without what it came for." She looked at Gnewt. "You know what calms it. I know where it is." The crowd pressed closer, but the three of them held the line. Gnewt had calculated a dozen ways this could fail, but she hadn't expected Stryker to defend her so publicly. The gesture cost Stryker whatever safety the village had offered after her release. Gnewt slithered forward until she reached the birdhouse marker. "The gem," she said, meeting Stryker's eyes. "You hid it after you retrieved it." Stryker nodded. "In the ruins where I found it. Weighted down in the flooded chamber." The creature surfaced again behind them, its massive head breaking the water with barely a ripple. The crowd stumbled back, but Stryker didn't move. "I'll bring it here," she said. "But only if the village agrees—Gnewt stays protected until this ends." Croaker raised the journal. "She exposed the elders. She freed what they imprisoned. Now she's the only one trying to fix it." The village elder at the front—an old turtle with a mossy staff—finally spoke. "Bring the gem. We'll hold to her safety until then." Gnewt had won Stryker's aid and the village's temporary trust, but the cost was clear: if the gem didn't calm the beast, both she and Stryker would answer for everything that followed.