Mason Crafton's Arc

Chapter 3 of 15

Mason came down the mountain by dusk with a torn sleeve and a new plan. A piece of the prince was what the dragon wanted, so a piece of the prince was what Mason would take. But the prince's house sat near the forest's edge, and the diamond birds had watched Mason climb the mountain that morning. If Mason walked up to the door again, the birds would flash blue through the trees, the princess would see from her tower, and every creature in the woods would come running. Mason needed to reach the house without being seen by the sky. Mason crouched in the brush and studied the ground between the trees and the house. The birds circled high, quick and bright, scanning the open path. Mason watched them for an hour and learned two things. The birds followed movement above the bracken. And the birds did not enter the smoke from the prince's chimney. Mason crawled to a dry hollow, scraped together damp leaves and pine, and lit a small fire. The smoke rose thin and gray. The nearest bird veered off. Mason waited until the wind pushed the smoke sideways across the yard, then crawled under it on their belly, the torn arm dragging in the dirt. They reached the back wall of the house without a single flash of blue overhead. A window stood open above a wash line. On the line hung a shirt, a pair of white trousers, and a folded pink cape with gold thread at the collar. Mason recognized the cape from three weeks of watching. The prince wore it every morning. Mason cut a strip from the inside hem where no one would see the missing cloth, and cut a second strip that held three blond hairs caught in the stitching. Mason pocketed both and crawled back through the smoke. By the time Mason reached the treeline, the fire had burned down and the wind had shifted. A diamond bird darted low over the yard, then another, sweeping the space Mason had just crossed. They found nothing. Mason pressed the cloth against their chest inside the coat and felt the hairs through the weave. From the ridge above the forest, the princess's small figure still stood on her tower platform, watching the sky she thought she controlled. Mason turned toward the deep woods. The dragon would not answer to a scale. It might answer to hair and thread from the man who fed it rubies. Mason had the piece now. What Mason did not have was a way to reach the mountain without crossing open ground again, and the smoke trick would only work once.