Scaley's Arc

Chapter 2 of 9

Scaley returns to the sealed gate the next morning, and the smell hits her before she sees it. Something rotten, something dead. She moves closer to the bone lock and the rusted fence, counting her steps out of habit. The water beyond the barrier has turned dark near the surface. A body floats face-down against the chains, caught where the current pushed it. The tattered cloak spreads wide across the water like oil. She pulls out her ledger and adds a mark to the count, then wades in. The water is cold, darker than it should be. She hooks her claws into the fabric and drags the corpse toward the bank. The weight tells her it's been in the water for days, maybe longer. When she rolls it over, the skull stares back at her through empty sockets. A cultist, based on the markings still visible on the bone. That makes four dead now. Three left to find. Something is clutched in the skeleton's hand, wedged between the finger bones. She pries it loose. A staff, twisted and pale, with green crystals embedded along its length. The kind of thing the Order carried when they went hunting. She turns it over, checking for marks or symbols that might tell her which cultist this was. The crystals catch the light, glowing faintly. This one was deep in the Order, close enough to carry their tools. She wraps the staff in cloth and adds it to her pack. Evidence. Proof that whoever sealed this gate knew the cultists were coming through here. Knew enough to want them stopped. A boat engine cuts through the silence. The coroner's vessel rounds the bend, its metal hull gleaming against the murky water. She waves them over and points to the body. While they load it onto the deck, she stands at the water's edge and updates her ledger. Four dead. Three unaccounted for. But now she knows the missing cultists were using Guidry's route. Whoever locked this passage didn't just find it by accident. They were tracking the Order too. And they got here first.