Ricky TooHigh's Arc

Chapter 9 of 9

Morning came gray over the keep. Hunter met Duran in the map room with the staff across his knees. A single candle burned low. The dwarf had not slept. His wrought iron hammer stood against the wall, and a young hound sat at his boot, ears up, watching the door. "New dog," Hunter said. "The old one's buried," Duran said. "This one found me at the kennels last night. She'll do." Hunter looked at the hound. She was broad in the chest, brindle, one ear torn. She did not blink. "Name?" "Peaches." Hunter almost smiled. It was the first time in a week. He stood and set the staff on the table between them. It gave off a thin curl of smoke, then stopped. "He didn't tell me how to find one," Hunter said. "He didn't tell me what to look for. Only that the staff would know." "Then the staff will know," Duran said. "But it can't walk the roads. I can." Hunter drew his sword. Duran watched him without moving. Peaches did not move either. "Kneel," Hunter said. Duran knelt on the stone. His beard touched his chest. "I've got no priest and no crown ceremony," Hunter said. "I've got this sword and a room no one else is in. That's enough." He laid the flat of the blade on Duran's shoulder, then the other. "Rise, Sir Duran Sledge. First knight named by the king of Greshia. Go and find the one the staff will answer to." Duran rose. He did not thank him. He picked up the hammer and slung it across his back. "How will I know?" Duran said. "Bring them here," Hunter said. "I'll put the staff in their hand. If the heat steadies, it's them. If it doesn't, we keep looking." "And if I find no one?" "Then you come back before I burn." Duran nodded once. He looked at Peaches. The hound stood. They went to the door together. At the threshold Duran stopped. "There are rumors out of the river towns," he said. "A girl who put out a barn fire with her hands. A boy who talks to smoke. Farm talk. But it's a place to start." "Start there," Hunter said. Duran opened the door. Cold air came in. Then he and the dog were gone down the corridor, and the sound of the hammer against his back faded before the candle guttered. Hunter sat alone with the staff. He put his palm on it. It was warm. It was waiting. He had chosen his first knight and sent him out to hunt an apprentice he could not name, and the search had begun, and the staff had not yet answered.