Selene Moonshadow's Arc

Chapter 3 of 9

Selene shoved the broken stone halves into her coat and grabbed her wand. The shadow was moving now. She could feel it through the floorboards, a low drag like something heavy pulled across gravel. Marcus was already at the door, pack shouldered, chalk still in his fist. "We can't stay here," he said. "Study's got no wards left worth the name. I know a place two ridges over. Small. Hard to see if you don't know where to look." They ran. The trees outside had gone the color of old paper. Selene kept her wand low, its tip dim so the shadow could not track the light. Behind them, something in the study fell and cracked. Neither of them turned. The cottage sat in a fold of hillside, half-swallowed by moss. It looked no bigger than a woodshed from the path. Marcus pressed his palm to the door and spoke a word Selene did not catch. The inside opened wider than the outside. A stone hearth. A crooked table. Storage nooks cut into every wall. It smelled of dried thyme and wax. The raccoon was already there, curled on a cushioned bench built low to the floor. It wore the same battered fedora and watched them come in without moving its head. Marcus nodded at it like an old business partner. "He beat us here. He does that." Selene sat on the bench beside the animal and laid the two halves of the stone on the table. "Sel—," she said. "That's all I have. It could be anything. Selwyn. Selvara. A hundred names." "Then we don't guess." Marcus was already at a shelf against the far wall, running his thumb along cracked spines. Dusty books, small bottles, a few crystals wedged between the volumes. "Guessing a true name gets you killed. We need someone who knows what to do with half." "Who?" "Old wizard up past the pass. He taught the witch who owned that study. He'll know how to build a stronger filter, one that won't shatter on the second try." Marcus pulled a folded map from between two books and spread it on the table. He tapped a mark near a ridge line. "Three days. Maybe four if the weather turns." Selene looked at the half-name on the table. The shadow knew she could reach it now. It would come faster. A second attempt with a river stone would not survive the pull. "We go at first light," she said. Marcus was already packing. Rope. Flint. A tin of salt. A small jar of the green sprite-light, sealed with wax. Five things, laid out in a row, then folded into the knapsack. The raccoon hopped down and trotted to the door. It looked back once, waiting. Selene closed her hand around the broken stone. Half a name in her pocket. A road in the morning. The shadow behind them, no longer patient.