Guidry's Arc

Chapter 3 of 14

Dawn came cold and gray over the water. Guidry reached the dock early, his boat already loaded with supplies for the trip into the deep marsh. He expected to wait for Stryker, maybe use the time to settle his nerves about what lay beyond the safe route. Instead, he found Ol' Man Croaker already seated in the stern, wrapped in a blanket that smelled like fish and mud. Guidry stopped mid-step. "What are you doing in my boat?" Croaker's eyes were red-rimmed, like he hadn't slept. "Saw it last night," the old man said. "Out past the marker. Big as three boats, with scales that caught the moonlight." He pulled something from his pocket — a coin stamped with a serpent, the edges worn smooth. "You take this. Keep you and your friend breathing when the water gets deep." Guidry wanted to refuse, to tell Croaker he didn't need superstitions cluttering up his trip. But the old man's hand shook as he pressed the coin into Guidry's palm, and his voice carried the weight of something seen, not imagined. Guidry closed his fist around it. If Croaker had spotted something that size near the boundary, word would spread by noon. Other guides would hear. Other hunters would come. Stryker arrived as Croaker climbed out, muttering about watching the water from the market stalls at the village edge. Guidry pocketed the coin without explaining it. The talisman felt warm against his leg, but what mattered more was the clock that had just started ticking. Croaker's sighting meant competition — treasure hunters who'd pay any guide willing to risk the deep marsh. Guidry had maybe two days before someone else tried to reach the Gem first. He untied the boat and pushed off, the current pulling them toward the hidden route. Respect wasn't something you earned by waiting. It came from being the one who got there first.