Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 215 of 619

Dawn came gray over the chalk ridge. Ajax walked the ring once more and set each man at his point. Chalam took the north with the book open on the flat stone. Marco stood east, close enough to feel the reader's mind. Rowan took west with an arrow already nocked, the string half drawn. Asher took the point between Rowan and Chalam. Ajax took his own place at the northeast mark. The reader stood at the south point with his hands open at his sides. "Do not move from the point," Chalam said. "Do not speak until I give the word. If the ring breaks, the working turns on us." The reader nodded. Marco tapped his own thigh twice where Ajax could see. Truth. Chalam began to read. His voice went low and even. The clay under Ajax's boots grew warm. The old salt in the ground started to hum, a sound Ajax felt in his teeth more than heard. The low stones around the ring brightened at the seams, thin white lines waking up. Chalam paused. He lifted his chin at the reader. "Now," Chalam said. The reader spoke one word. It was short and did not sound like any tongue Ajax knew. The word landed in the ring and the humming climbed. Rowan's bow stayed level on the reader's chest. The reader did not move. Chalam read the last passage. He closed the book. The white lines in the stone pulsed once and went dark. The warmth in the clay drained away. The basin was quiet. "It is bound," Chalam said. "The seventh is shut. Nothing here can be waked again." Ajax let out the breath he had been holding. He crossed the ring to the flat stone. "Your paper," he said to the reader. "Copy what you were promised. Chalam watches every stroke." The reader took ink and paper from his own pack. He sat on the clay and worked while Chalam stood over him. Marco kept his eyes on the man's face. Rowan kept the arrow ready. The reader wrote for a long while, then handed the sheet to Chalam. "Clean copy," Chalam said. "No extra marks." "Then he rides," Ajax said. The reader stood and gathered his horses. He did not argue. He mounted and rode out of the basin at a walk. Rowan watched him to the ridge and then lowered the bow. Ajax looked at the closed ring. Six seats killed. A seventh sealed by words his father never had. The Keeper had lost her leash on all of it. "Home," he said. "Hard ride. Grayson holds the gate, but she will come now, and she will come herself." They mounted and turned the horses west.