Marcus Graves's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

The scream came before dawn. Marcus rolled off the cot and grabbed his rune-marked rifle. By the time he reached the square, it was over. A beast had taken a man from his doorstep and dragged him into the dark. Only a smear of blood and one heel-mark in the mud remained. The crowd stood over it, and when they saw Marcus, they turned. "You brought this," a woman said. Others took it up. They had seen the hoofprints. They blamed the man who kept talking about the pack. A heavyset townsman stepped forward, fists tight. "Leave. Before more of us die." The crowd pressed in. Marcus did not reach for his rifle. He counted exits instead. Garrick came through the crowd like water through a crack. The old hunter did not slow. "He kills these things," Garrick said. His voice was flat and carried. "You don't." He held up a claw from his belt, longer than any hand. The townsman looked at it and stepped back. The anger did not leave the square, but it stopped moving toward Marcus. "Won't hold," Garrick said low. "They need steel, not words. So do we." He turned and walked, and Marcus followed. They left the square before the crowd found its voice again. The old woman lived at the edge of town. Garrick knocked once and went in. Miriam Ashwood sat by a cold hearth, her eyes white and fixed on nothing. She had marked the rifle that killed the first beast. She did not turn her head, but she spoke before they did. "Two guns," she said. "You want them cut." On the table lay two rifles Marcus had brought the night before. One was military-issue, boxy and gray. The other had a sharp black finish and a snarling face worked into the metal. Garrick set them in front of her. "A man died tonight," Marcus said. "The town wants me gone. I need weapons that work before the pack comes back." Miriam ran her fingers over the gray rifle. The nails scratched the metal. "I can mark these. Tonight." She paused. Her hand went still. "There is a cost to the cutting I have not told you. You will want to know it before the pack arrives. Not now." "Tell me now," Marcus said. "No." Her blind eyes met his as if she saw. "Bring me more steel first. I will have these two done by dark." Marcus looked at Garrick. The old hunter gave a short nod. It was enough. Marcus pushed both rifles toward her. They walked back into a town that wanted them gone, carrying nothing but a promise. By nightfall he would have three working guns instead of one. It was the start of a squad. But Miriam held something back, and the man taken in the dark would not be the last.