Stryker's Arc

Chapter 2 of 16

The turtle leaned closer across the counter. "Only one guide knows the deep marsh well enough," he said. "Guidry." Stryker felt her scales tighten with hope. A name. A way forward. But the turtle's voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "He hasn't come back the same from that route." Stryker found the tour booth at the edge of town where the solid ground turned soft. A wooden sign hung crooked above the counter: "Boat Tours." Behind it, tied to a rotting dock, sat a boat that made her stop cold. Moss grew thick along its sides. The wooden hull had split in places, like something had tried to claw through from the inside. A barrel sat in the center, half-filled with dark water that hadn't been there from rain. This was Guidry's boat. This was what the deep marsh had done to it. She circled the dock twice, looking for any sign of the guide himself. The booth stood empty. No schedule posted. No note saying when he'd return. The other boats along the waterfront sat clean and ready, but this one — Guidry's — looked like it had been dragged back from somewhere it shouldn't have gone. Stryker understood then what the turtle had meant. She could wait for a guide who might be broken, or she could find another way into the marsh. But she'd seen the proof now, written in cracked wood and creeping moss. The deep marsh was real, and it took something from everyone who went looking. A paddle leaned against the booth's counter, bite marks carved deep through the wood near the handle. Fresh enough that splinters still hung loose. Stryker picked it up, turned it over in her coils. Whatever had done this hadn't been trying to break the paddle. It had been trying to break whoever held it. She set it down carefully and made her choice. She would wait for Guidry. Not because she thought he'd be whole when she found him, but because anyone who'd survived what left those marks knew something she needed to learn. The gem was real. The marsh was dangerous. And she wasn't turning back now.