Thorn's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Thorn pressed the girl against the cold wall of the cave and listened. Outside, the dogs had been barking. Now they were not. The silence was worse than the noise. He crept back to the entrance and looked down the slope. The hunting party stood frozen at a low rise of broken stone, a weathered wall half-buried in snow. Fresh red streaked the gray bricks. Deep gouges scored the rock above the men's heads. None of them stepped past it. They stared at the marks like the marks were staring back. One man turned and ran. The others followed, slipping in the snow. A rolled parchment tied with a red ribbon dropped from someone's belt and lay forgotten in the trampled tracks. Thorn watched until the last coat disappeared into the trees below. He let out the breath he had been holding. Then a small shape padded out of the dark behind him. A furry white creature with six stubby legs and folded wings sat in the snow at the cave mouth. Purple eyes blinked up at him. It dropped something at his boots: a chewed leather shoe, laces frayed, the toe punched through from the inside. Thorn stared at the shoe. He stared at the small wyvern. He had told them to leave the hunters alone until the hunters crossed the line. The line had been crossed, and something had been done about it. He did not ask what. He picked up the shoe, carried it inside, and shut the girl deeper into the dark. The men were gone today. Tomorrow, someone would come looking for them.