Grok Earthrender's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

The healer's hut sat in a clearing ringed by dead trees, their branches stripped bare by time and water. The structure itself was low and wide, built from old turtle shells lashed together with rope and sealed with mud. Smoke rose from a gap in the roof. Grok stopped at the tree line and watched. His hands shook as he gripped the emerald axe tighter. He had until sunset, and the sun was already past its peak. A carriage stood outside the hut, its wooden wheels half-sunk in the mud. The thing was built from dark planks and decorated with a lizard skull mounted on the side like a warning. Vines had already started crawling up the spokes. Someone had arrived before him, and they'd come in style. Grok moved closer, keeping to the shadows of the dead trees. Through the carved door of the hut, he heard voices — two of them, low and steady. One belonged to an old woman. The other was younger, sharp-edged, and familiar in a way that made his jaw tighten. He circled the hut and found a spiked crocodile curled near the back wall, moss growing along its spine. The beast was massive, easily twice his length, and it wore a leather harness across its shoulders. This wasn't a wild thing. Someone had brought it here and left it to rest while they talked inside. Grok recognized the harness work — clan-made, with the kind of stitching only the elder families used. Whoever was inside wasn't some wandering trader. They had status, resources, and a reason to be here that didn't involve trembling hands or desperate bargains. Grok stepped around to the door and pushed it open without knocking. The old healer sat on a low stool near a clay pot boiling over coals. Across from her stood a man in his thirties wearing clan marks on his chest and a bone necklace that marked him as an elder's son. The man turned and looked at Grok without surprise, as if he'd been waiting. The healer didn't stand. She just met Grok's eyes and said his name once, quiet and certain. The elder's son smiled, but it wasn't friendly. He said the watcher had told him someone would be coming, and he'd decided to wait. Grok understood then that his two days were already gone. The choice now wasn't whether to learn the medicine — it was whether he'd walk out of this hut alive.