Stiles's Arc

Chapter 14 of 20

Stiles barely slept after the river vision. He drove to school with the dinghy and the white eyes still behind his own. The locker room buzzed with pre-practice chaos. His lacrosse stick hung loose in his grip, the wooden shaft heavier than it should be, the netting still scuffed with mud he didn't remember picking up. He pulled Scott aside at the wire-mesh lockers. Through the diamond gaps Stiles could see Scott's neat stack of books, a folded hoodie, a photo taped to the back wall. Stiles wrestled with a shoulder pad strap and just started talking. He told him about the thread. The river. The coin going under. Everything. "The Acheron doesn't kill because of what happened," Stiles said. "It kills because people can't let go. Grief, regret, guilt. That's the anchor." Scott nodded once. "So the key is letting go of the past." "Exactly. And water. Its power comes from the river. If the water can't spread, maybe neither can it." Scott sat to tie his cleats. "Two things," he said. Stiles frowned. "Yeah?" "Major storm this weekend." Stiles groaned. "Great. An ancient river monster and weather." Scott glanced toward the door as it opened. Isaac Lahey stepped in, duffel over his shoulder, jaw set like he'd driven all night. Stiles blinked. "We've officially stopped believing in texting, huh?" Isaac dropped the duffel. "Scott called. I came." The secret was out, the circle was wider, and the storm was already on its way.