Ollie tembers's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

The hare-eared thing stepped clear of the birches. Its head tilted at the woman in the red dress. The dog's barking pulled closer through the alders. Ollie's jar sat in her hands, thin glass, his name sealed inside. The man in the dark coat stood up slow and put himself between her and the creature. His brass box ticked once, then went quiet. "Give me the jar," Ollie said. His voice was back, ragged. "If it breaks I lose it." The woman passed it over without looking away from the tall shape. "Hold it against your chest. Don't drop it." She said it flat, like she was reading a label. Ollie cupped the glass in both hands. It was warm. He could feel his own word turning inside it like a moth. The dog broke through the salt line. A girl came behind it in a green hood, a knife already out, breathing hard. She stopped when she saw the creature. She did not scream. "That's what took my markers," she said. "Move away from it." She stepped in front of the woman and slid a hand down to the dog's collar. The dog's ears were back. The creature took one long step forward. The jar in Ollie's hands went cold. He knew what worked here. Loud sound broke the quiet. Loud sound had cracked the pale woman's grip on the hill. But the only thing loud enough close to hand was the jar itself, and the jar held the one word he had left. If he smashed it, the creature would flinch. He would also be empty again. He thought of the boy whose hand he had held for days. He thought of the girl with the paper bird who could not speak anymore. He was not going to hand his name back to the Fen to save strangers. Not this one. He clamped the jar tighter and stepped behind the girl in the green hood. "I can't break it," he said. "Use something else." The girl did not argue. She yanked a tin lantern off her belt and hurled it at a rock. The glass burst. The dog barked at the noise on cue, loud and sharp. The hare-eared shape jerked back a full pace, ears flat, and slid sideways into the mist between the trunks. Gone. The brass box started ticking again. The woman in red let out one slow breath and sat down in the moss. Ollie stayed on his feet with the jar pressed to his ribs. His name was still inside it. He had chosen to keep it. He did not know yet what that would cost the next time something came for them, but the jar was whole, and so was he.