Grok Earthrender's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Grok stayed at the dock until the creature's glow faded into the swamp. Then he moved. The watcher had said someone followed him, which meant someone knew about their arrangement. Someone had watched the exchange and hadn't stopped it. That person was still out there, and Grok needed to know why they'd waited. He found shelter near a pile of moss-covered stones stacked like a marker at the edge of the old road. The rocks formed natural cover, and from there he could watch both directions. He settled in and waited. Dawn came slow, turning the water from black to gray. His hands shook worse in the cold. He pressed them against his knees to keep them still. Then he saw movement near the twisted trunk of a massive tree fifty paces off. Someone had been standing there the whole time, hidden behind the vines and moss. The figure stepped forward into the dim light. Another watcher, older than the boy, wearing clan marks on his shoulders. He held something in his hand — a scrap of weathered fabric. Grok recognized it before the man spoke. It was a piece torn from his own shirt, the one he'd caught on thorns two days back when he first crossed into clan territory. The watcher didn't threaten him. Just held up the cloth and said he'd been tracking Grok since the body was found. Said he knew Grok hadn't killed the dead man, because he'd watched the real killer walk away. Said the elders were asking questions now, and soon they'd send more than watchers. He offered a trade: he'd tell Grok which path led to the healer's hut, and Grok would leave before sunset and never come back. The man didn't want coin. He wanted Grok gone before the situation got worse and the elders decided to make an example. Grok looked at the torn fabric in the watcher's hand and understood. This wasn't a negotiation. It was a warning wrapped in mercy. He asked one question: would the healer be there today. The watcher nodded once. Grok stood and shouldered his pack. The man pointed east, toward a cluster of dead trees that marked the boundary of the healer's ground. Then he turned and walked back into the swamp without waiting for thanks. Grok headed east. He had until sunset to learn what he needed, or the next watcher wouldn't offer directions.