Mirella Marshlight's Arc

Chapter 2 of 5

Mirella followed the stream until it slid into a wide stone mouth. Vines hung over the entrance. Water churned blue in the dark beyond. She had found the flooded caves the otter spoke of. But something stopped her before she stepped inside. A warning was scratched deep into the rock beside the opening. The lines were jagged and rough, cut by a hurried hand. Mirella leaned closer. Her breath caught. The pattern matched the weave on her wrist. She pulled the blue thread bracelet free and held it up beside the carving. The bracelet glowed faintly, its waves and lines pulsing soft teal in the dim cave light. Every curve on her wrist matched a curve in the stone. Whoever left her in the moss had also stood here. Whoever left her had tried to warn someone away. Mirella's knees gave. She sank into the wet moss at the cave mouth and pressed her hand to the etching. A memory rose she had not touched in years. A stick doll with leaves for hair, tucked beside her in the moss as a baby. A shell bowl of rainwater set near her head. Small kindnesses left by hands that had still chosen to leave. She scraped at the moss below the warning. Her fingers struck something hard. She dug it free. The little leaf-haired doll lay in her palm, faded and damp, the green leaves brown at the edges. The same doll. Left here, at this entrance, not in the swamp where she was found. Mirella closed her fist around the doll. Her parents had not abandoned her at the swamp first. They had come here first, and run. The warning was theirs. The cave ahead held whatever they had feared. She tucked the doll into her pocket beside the ruby and stood. The bargain had just become a path straight toward them.