Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 241 of 619

They rode north until the pines thinned and the ground turned soft under hoof. Rowan swung down at a bend in the deer trail and knelt. He pointed at the dirt without a word. Four toes. No claws. A drag line behind, thin as a rope. "Fresh," Rowan said. "Since dawn. Moving south along the ridge." Aldric crouched beside him and set the birch strip next to the print. He turned the book to the folded page and held it low. "The foot is wider here. Older animal, or fed well. The tail drag matches the fragment." He pressed a finger to the soil at the print's edge. "Sound-hunter. Keep the horses back." Ajax waved Chalam and Marco off the trail. He crouched between Rowan and Aldric. "How does it come up?" "Behind and low," Aldric said. "It listens for feet, for drips, for breath. It breaks the ground under the target and takes the belly first." "Iron in the mouth," Ajax said. "Iron in the mouth. Anywhere else glances off." Marco touched his temple and closed his eyes. He held still a long moment. "I hear something under us. Not thoughts. A pulse. Slow. West of here, maybe two hundred paces." "It knows we stopped," Rowan said. Ajax stood. "Then we set it. Not chase it." He looked at the ground between two fallen logs, a flat place with soft soil and no roots to grip. "Here." He cut the plan fast. Rowan would climb the pine at the trail's edge with his bow. Chalam would stand on a log with his staff ready, boots off the dirt. Marco would keep a hand on the pulse and call the moment it moved. Aldric would hold the spare iron. Ajax would bait it. "You," Aldric said. "Bait." "It comes for sound. I make the sound." Ajax drew his father's blade and a short iron rod from his pack. He weighed the rod in his palm. "When it breaks ground, I put iron in its mouth." Rowan went up the pine without a sound. Chalam took the log. Aldric stepped back with a second rod held crossways. Marco crouched with his palm flat to the earth. Ajax walked to the soft ground and struck his heel down. Once. Twice. He hummed low in his chest and struck again. "Moving," Marco said. "Fast. Under you." Ajax stepped left. The soil bulged. He raised the rod. "On my word," Ajax said. "Rowan holds. Chalam holds. When it opens, I go in." The ground split three paces out. A gray snout pushed up, jaws wide, teeth thin as pine needles. Ajax stepped in and drove the iron rod straight down its throat to the hilt, then rammed his father's blade in behind it.