Roran Vottier's Arc

Chapter 6 of 10

Dawn found them still in the trees. The wraith was loose now, somewhere in the woods, and the dead golden sword hung useless in Roran's hand. Kaia sat against a trunk with her knees drawn up. "My family knew how to hold it," she said. "A binding ritual. But the words came down broken. I only have pieces. I can't put it back in the ground." Roran said nothing. Without the full ritual, they had no way to stop the thing at all. Then the light changed. A bird dropped from the sky and landed on a low branch. Its feathers burned with color, red and orange and green, shifting like flame. Roran rose and lifted the sword by habit. The bird only watched them. Kaia stood slowly. "It's looking at me," she whispered. A voice moved through her head, not through the air. She pressed a hand to her temple. "It's speaking," she said. "Inside my mind." Her eyes went wide. "It says the knowledge I've lost sleeps in a tree. A tree with silver and gold leaves." She turned and pointed past Roran, deeper into the woods. "That way." Roran did not trust it. But they had nothing else. He followed her through the brush, sword ready, the bright bird gliding ahead from branch to branch. They walked until the trees opened. In the clearing stood one great tree. Its leaves shone silver and gold, catching the morning like coins and mirrors. Kaia stopped at its roots and breathed out. "Sit," Roran said. "I'll watch the trees." He turned his back to her and faced the woods, listening for the wraith. Kaia lowered herself against the trunk and closed her eyes. Her body went still. Roran glanced back once and saw her lips moving without sound. Minutes passed. The bird settled on a golden branch above her and folded its wings. Nothing came out of the woods. Roran kept his grip tight and waited. Kaia's eyes snapped open. She gasped like a woman pulled from water. "I saw them," she said. "The first of my line. I saw the whole ritual, start to finish." She gripped Roran's arm and pulled herself up. "The binding was never meant to just cage it. There's a way to end it for good." "Tell me," Roran said. "The sword," she said. "It failed because it was cold. It needs to be relit at the shrine's fire, and the words must be spoken while it burns. Steel can't touch the rot. But that gold blade, lit and named, can cut the wraith apart." She looked at the sky where the bird had risen and gone. "I know what to do now. All of it." Roran looked at the dead sword in his hand. For the first time since the barrow, it felt like a weapon again. The knowledge was whole. Now they had to reach the shrine's fire before the wraith reached the hollow.