Huge Ajax's Arc

Chapter 27 of 619

Ajax led Asher and Marco back down the cliff path in silence. The wolf-paw sword knocked against his hip. Neither man tried to speak to him. Neither spoke to the other. Ajax preferred it that way for now. At the shelf, Chalam was crouched by the pot. He had pulled it off the coals. Small pale flowers floated in the water. He stirred them with a peeled stick. His blue robe hung open. The satchel sat on the stone beside him with two vials laid out in a line. "Dryad brought more," Ajax said. He dropped the second bundle of flowers next to the satchel. "Burn these at the seam after. Not now." Chalam looked at the flowers. "After what." "After the thing under the stone is dead." Chalam nodded. He went back to the pot. "These need another hour steeping. Then the water goes cold or the working breaks. I need a spring pool. Something still and shaded." "There's water above the shelf," Marco said. "We crossed a run. It bends behind the trees into a pocket. Deep enough." "Take him," Ajax said. "Fill skins while you're up there. Bathe. You stink of sea. All of you." Grayson came up from the wall gap with Tucker behind him. He had heard the last of it. "I'll walk with them," Grayson said. It was not a question. Ajax met his eyes and let it pass. They went up together, Chalam carrying the pot wrapped in cloth, Asher with the skins, Marco with the short axe, Tucker last, humming. Grayson brought up the rear with his hand on his hilt. Elara stayed on the shelf with Ajax for a breath. Then she said, "I'll follow. Someone should watch the trees while they wash." "You'll shield yourself." "I'll shield myself." She lifted two fingers and light bent around her wrist and was gone. "They won't see me. Neither will anything else." "Go." She went. Ajax watched her climb until the scrub took her. Up above, the pocket opened where Marco said. Still water, dark under the alders. Chalam set the pot in the shallows and packed wet clay around it until only the rim showed. The flowers steadied and sank. He sat back on his heels. "It holds. Cold enough." The others stripped. Chains came off and were hung on branches. Asher's gold. Tucker's two flats. Grayson's silver. Marco's short chain. They waded in. Tucker whistled at the cold. Asher dunked under and came up laughing for the first time in a day. Marco floated on his back. Grayson washed fast and stood watch on the bank, bare and armed. Elara crouched between two trunks. Her shield held. She watched them and she watched the trees behind them. When Chalam stood and lifted his hand from the pot, he said only, "It's set." The brew was ready. The blade was ready. Two days remained.