Chapter 6
The boat cut through water thick with moss and cypress roots. Guidry steered without speaking, following turns that looked no different from dead ends until they opened into narrow channels. Stryker kept her eyes on the route, memorizing each marker even though the blood oath made that unnecessary now.
The gate appeared around a bend where the water darkened. Iron bars twisted outward like broken ribs, the metal warped from force that came from the wrong side. Chains hung in pieces, some still attached to the frame, others scattered across the mud bank. Stryker's stomach dropped. Whatever this gate was built to contain had torn through it from the inside. She climbed out before Guidry could dock, sinking ankle-deep into mud as she moved closer. A length of chain lay half-buried near the water's edge, each loop coated in rust so red it looked like dried blood. She picked it up, feeling how the metal had corroded through in places where something massive had strained against it. Then she saw the tail. It curved across the bank like a discarded rope, easily twelve feet long, covered in scales that shifted from deep green to electric blue. The flesh was torn at one end where it had been ripped away. Stryker held the chain tighter, understanding now what the gate had failed to hold. Something enormous had broken free, something that left pieces of itself behind.
Guidry stood in the boat, watching her examine the wreckage. "We need to turn back," he said quietly. "Find Ol' Man Croaker. He's the only one who knows what came through here." Stryker looked from the destroyed gate to the route ahead. Every instinct told her to keep moving, to chase the Scaled Gem while the path was open. But the tail at her feet belonged to something her grandmother's stories never mentioned, and the gate's destruction meant it was loose somewhere in the marsh. She dropped the chain back into the mud. "Where do we find him?" Guidry started the motor, turning the boat back toward the village. For the first time since they'd left, Stryker felt relief at his answer. Some doors stayed closed for good reason, and whatever tore through this one deserved answers before she followed it deeper.
They found Croaker's place tucked into a grove where the trees grew so thick the water turned black. A wooden bar sat at the water's edge, vines hanging from the roof so heavy they formed a curtain across the front. Stryker could see bottles lined up behind the counter, but no customers. Croaker himself sat on a stool out front, an old frog with skin like weathered leather. He didn't look surprised to see them. "You saw the gate," he said, not a question. Stryker nodded, pulling the image of that torn tail from her mind. "What broke through?" Croaker stood slowly, his eyes moving between her and Guidry. "Something that's been down there longer than the stories," he said. "Something that woke up when that gem started glowing last spring." He gestured toward the bar. "Come inside. If you're going after it, you need to know what you're walking into." Stryker climbed onto the dock, her decision made. She
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