Numble's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Numble walked the lower slope at dusk, checking the tree line where the Binclaws might come. Willa was safe in the grove behind him. He listened for wings. Instead, he heard a scream from below, high and human, a child's voice. He ran down the trail. A boy stumbled through the brush, no older than ten, his green jacket torn. Behind him, a black winged beast crouched low. A Binclaw. Its yellow eyes tracked the boy. Blue lines glowed along its ribs. It gathered its legs to pounce. Numble had no bow. He roared and charged, but he was too far. He would not reach the boy in time. An arrow struck the dirt at the beast's feet and burst. Fire and smoke threw the Binclaw sideways. A woman stepped from the trees, already drawing a second arrow. Numble knew her. Ava. The hunter he had sent down this same slope days ago, the one who gave up her prized bow to save a dying brother. That bow was in her hands now, blue light running along its frame. "Down," she told the boy, flat and calm. He dropped. She fired. The arrow exploded against the Binclaw's shoulder. The beast shrieked, snapped its wings open, and fled into the dark trees. Its cry faded up the ridge. The boy ran to Ava and threw his arms around her waist. She lowered the bow but did not hug him back at first. Her eyes stayed on the tree line. "Andrew," she said. "You followed the grid." "You were six days late," the boy said. His voice was small and steady. "You said the coordinates were nothing. I didn't believe you." Ava finally set a hand on his head. Then she looked at Numble. "You," she said. "The grove keeper." She glanced at the fruit-heavy slope behind him. "I've been hunting whatever hits the eastern villages. Six days I tracked it. That was it." She nodded toward where the Binclaw had vanished. "It's called a Binclaw," Numble said. "And it wasn't hunting your brother by chance." He thought of Willa, hidden above. The beasts had followed her scent this far. His grove had drawn the danger down onto a child. Ava's jaw tightened. "Then it'll come back." "It will." Numble looked up the slope toward his trees, his guest, the quiet cabin he had wanted for himself alone. That want felt far away now. "You wounded one. There are more." Ava pulled Andrew close and studied the wolf. "I don't leave a job half done," she said. "Show me where they're coming from." Numble did not answer at once. To show her meant leading her to Willa. It meant more feet in his grove, more eyes, more weight on his watch. But the Binclaws were already here, and a boy had nearly died at his gate. "Come up," he said. "Both of you. Before dark."