Thorin Ironshield's Arc

Chapter 10 of 11

Thorin carried the dragon shackle into the courthouse. The injured Sentinel lay where he had left them, at the stone marker near the bench. But now their eyes were open. Their fingers moved against the cold floor. Thorin dropped the shackle and knelt fast. "Don't talk yet," he said. He reached for water. The Sentinel caught his wrist. Their grip was weak but sure. "Kellan," they said. "He has to touch it. The rock. That's how the shackles work." Thorin leaned close. "What rock?" Before the Sentinel could answer, the courthouse door opened. Nay Raven stepped in. Fire-bright hair, one eye red, one eye cold as deep water. She had studied ghosts longer than anyone Thorin trusted. She had also lost pieces of herself doing it. She could no longer hold his face in her memory. Some days she looked at him like a stranger. Today she looked straight at the injured Sentinel. "I know that magic," she said. She crouched and turned the dragon shackle over in her hands. "Same as mine. It takes." The Sentinel spoke again, faster now, fighting the pain. "He keeps a burning rock. Black stone, dark flames. He feeds it names. Then the shackles find whoever the name belongs to." They coughed. "Break the rock, break his hold. The others go free." Thorin's chest went tight. For the first time in a month, he had something better than guessing. "Where is it?" "The tower." The Sentinel's eyes fluttered. "He hides it under the red glow. It feeds on that light." Nay set down the shackle. She reached into her coat and drew out a small book. Its cover showed life on one half and death on the other, all worked in gold and dark ink. "I copied what I could," she said. "Before I forgot it." She opened to a page and pressed it flat. "The magic writes what it takes. Every name. Every debt." Thorin looked at the page. Names he knew. Sentinels lost. And below them, room for more. "Two payments left before nightfall," he said. "He's not done." "Then you stop feeding him time," Nay said. She did not soften it. "You go to the tower. You break the rock. Or you count more empty posts." The injured Sentinel's hand went slack. Their breathing evened out. Alive. Resting. They had given Thorin the one thing Kellan never meant him to have. Thorin stood. He picked up the dragon shackle and closed his fist around it, the same way he had all day. But his hand was steady now. He knew the target. He knew the weapon that made it. "I've been waiting for his moves," Thorin said. "No more waiting." Nay closed the book. "The tower's glow is strong. The rock will fight you." "Let it." Thorin turned to the door. Outside, the light was already going gray. Two payments owed. He meant to make sure Kellan collected none of them.