Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 24 of 619

Ajax knelt at the fire pit inside the raised walls and set the flowers on a flat stone. The dryad's warning still hung in his ears. One turn of the sun. Three days until the hunter came back with eight. He needed more than flowers to end a six-armed thing in its sleep. He needed iron sharp enough to drive through its throat, and he needed it now. A soft cough came from the wall gap. The wrenleaf gnome stood there in his green vest and round glasses, a small clay pot cradled against his belly. He had come without sound, the way he had before. He held the pot up to Chalam. "Boiled water," the gnome said. "Rain-caught. Clean enough for the working." Chalam took the pot and set it beside the flowers. "You waited." "I was told to." The gnome's eyes moved to Ajax. "The lady sent me back in case you needed a second hand." Ajax stood. He towered over the small creature. The gold chain at his neck caught the firelight. "I need more than a hand. My steel is plain. The hunter carries iron that woke the thing through stone. If plain steel breaks on its hide, my men die before the sun turns." The gnome adjusted his glasses. "You want a forged blade." "Iron. Heavy. Made to punch through a throat that has slept three hundred years." Ajax crouched to meet his eyes. "Your people want this ended. So do I. Can you bring me a smith, or a blade already made?" The gnome was quiet a long moment. He looked at Chalam, then back at Ajax. "There is a smith in the deep grove who worked the old collars. He is old. He will not travel. But he keeps blades he made for this purpose and never gave away." "How long to fetch one?" "By dusk tomorrow. If he agrees." "Tell him the mason's son is asking." Ajax touched the chain. "Tell him the seal will open with this blood at first light the day after." The gnome nodded once and stepped back through the gap. He was gone before Ajax stood. Chalam was already crushing the pale flowers between his palms. He dropped them into the clay pot. The water darkened. A green smell rose off the steam, sharp and grassy. "Steep until the color holds," Chalam said. He stirred with the end of a peeled stick. "Then we cover it and wait." Ajax watched the water turn. His clock was set now. The gnome would ride for a blade he had not seen. The flowers would keep the thing dull for one turn of the sun. His father's blood, running in his own veins, would lift the lid. He had a plan. He did not yet have the blade.