Mira Thistle's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Mira clung to the pit wall. Below her, the wet grinding grew louder. Above her, something else moved. The roots at the mouth of the pit creaked and twisted. They were drawing closed like fingers around a coin. The hatchling flattened against her neck and hissed low. Mira looked up. The circle of gray sky was shrinking fast. Dirt sifted down into her hair. If the roots sealed, she would be trapped with the breathing thing below. She scrambled up. Her boots slipped on wet stone. She caught a root and it tightened around her wrist like it knew her. She gasped and tore her arm free, leaving skin behind. "Give me your hand." The voice came from above. A woman knelt at the pit's edge, blade drawn, dark hair falling forward. She drove the sword into the moving roots and pinned them to the stone. The roots shuddered and slowed. Mira reached up. A gloved hand closed on hers and pulled hard. She came over the lip in a tangle of dirt and scales, the hatchling clinging to her collar. They rolled clear and lay panting on the packed ground. Behind them stood a low wooden lodge built right over the pit, its stone foundation cracked where roots had pushed through. The woman pulled her blade free and the roots snapped shut behind them with a sound like a slammed door. "Kael Thornward," the woman said. She did not offer her hand again. "The diggers built this lodge to hold the thing down there. It is not holding anymore. You went in with salt. Salt will not be enough." She looked at Mira's torn wrist, then at the sealed pit. "We try again. From up here. Tonight."