Thalen Greenleaf's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

Thalen scrambled behind the tree of colored leaves. The stone giant turned to follow, slow but certain. The splinter burned in his fist, straining toward the trunk. He pressed his palm flat against the bark and waited for the wood to answer him. Nothing came. No warmth. No whisper. This was not his heartwood. It was only a tree that glowed. His stomach dropped. He had accused the giant. He had drawn its fists. And he had no proof at all. If he tore this tree down and it was the wrong one, his clan's thousand years would be gone. He needed to know before he acted. He needed the wood to speak. Thalen drew the carved wooden compass his grandmother had left him. Its needle had always pointed the way home. He held it near the splinter. The needle spun, then locked, aimed not at the colored tree but past it, deeper into the dark. His true heartwood lay beyond this clearing. The colored tree was a decoy left to catch fools. The giant's fist swept down. Thalen dove clear. The blow split a root and threw wet earth across his face. He rolled up against a cluster of glowing mushrooms that lit the trunk with soft blue light. He grabbed the splinter and pressed it to the largest cap. The wood drank the glow and flared bright as a torch. Thalen thrust the burning splinter high. The light struck the giant's carved chest. The blue lines there brightened, then flickered, confused. The giant froze mid-step, one arm raised. It had been shaped to guard a heartwood, and the splinter's light spoke the same old language its carvings did. A growl rolled from the trees. Something large moved at the clearing's edge. A dire wolf slid into the light, its coat dark as shadow, its frame broader than any wolf Thalen knew. Its pale eyes fixed on him. It had followed his glow through the dark, drawn like everything else to the burning wood. Thalen's breath caught. He had no weapon but light. He made his choice. He would not fight both. He turned and ran past the frozen giant, deeper into the trees, following the compass needle and the splinter's pull. Branches tore at his tunic. Behind him, stone ground against stone as the giant woke again. The wolf's paws thudded after him, closing fast. Thalen ran with the truth clutched in his fist. The colored tree was a lie. His real heartwood lay ahead, somewhere in the black wood. He had left the clearing's safety for the deeper dark, and now a giant and a wolf both hunted the light he could not put out. He did not stop. He could not. The pull grew stronger with every stride, and so did the sound of the hunt behind him.