Lena Marsh's Arc

Chapter 12 of 24

Lena woke to Nell's hand on her shoulder. The fire at the mouth of the hollow was down to coals. Outside, the wolf with moss in her fur stood facing the trees, hackles up, silent. "Something's out there," Nell said, low. "Been circling an hour." Lena sat up. Her fingers still felt slow, but her head was clear. "The bands?" "Yours is thinning." He touched the thread at her wrist. The weave had gone soft. "It caught your scent before I could wake you." Linny was already at the mouth, blade drawn. Forge crouched behind her with a cold iron edge across his knee. The fox pressed flat against Lena's leg, ears back. Something moved between two pines. Tall. Branches for antlers. Blue light ran under its bark like veins under skin. Snow slid off its shoulders as it turned its head toward the hollow. Its eyes were pale and lit from inside. "Frostwood," Nell said. "It won't leave. It has her." "Kill it," Forge said. "Iron won't drop it fast. It'll scream first. Every fae within a mile comes running." Linny didn't turn her head. "Then what." Nell looked at Lena. He did not ask. He only waited. Lena understood. She pushed the coat off her shoulders and held out her wrist. "I need new thread." "You just slept it off," Linny said. "You can't spin again." "I can spin one." Lena's hands were already moving in her lap, fingers pinching at nothing, pulling. A pale strand came up between them. "Not for us. For it." Nell caught on first. "Wrap it." "Bind its legs. The wolf holds its head. You put the iron in before it opens its mouth." Forge nodded once. Linny's jaw set. Nell went out low along the hollow's lip. The mossveil wolf moved with him without a sound, shoulder to his hip. Lena crawled to the mouth and fed thread out of her fingers in a long, thin line. It pulled at something under her ribs each time she drew. She kept drawing. The frostwood creature stepped into the clearing. Nell whistled once, short. The wolf lunged for its throat and hung there, jaws locked. The thing reared. Lena flung her hands forward. The thread whipped out across the snow and caught its forelegs, then its hind, cinching tight. It went down hard on its side, silent, mouth still shut. Forge crossed the snow in three strides and drove the iron through its ribs where the blue light gathered. The light went out. The bark went gray. No scream. No answer from the trees. Lena's hands stopped. She sat back on her heels. The wolf let go and looked at Nell, then padded back into the pines and did not return. "Move," Nell said. "Now. Before another one comes looking for it." Lena stood. The crystal in her pocket pulled north.