Tomas Thornwood's Arc

Chapter 1 of 12

Tomas Thornwood found the blood twenty steps from his own door. He knelt in the grass, two fingers pressed to the wet stain. For months he had tracked this thing across his woods, following blood and nothing else. Every deer, every hare, every bird that vanished left the same mark and no body. He had sworn to break whatever curse fed on his forest. Now the curse had walked to his cabin. His wolf stood beside him, hackles up, a low growl in its throat. The old grey beast had survived a hundred fights. Its scars proved it. Yet tonight it would not step past the stain. It backed toward the lakeside cabin, ears flat. "Easy," Tomas said. His voice stayed calm. His hand did not. A small shape moved in the maple grove. Orange fur caught the last light. Tomas rose fast, knife out. Then he saw the ears, the wide yellow eyes, the shaking hands. A fox spirit, no taller than a child. It had been hiding behind the trees, watching him. "You're bleeding on your own ground," the fox said. His voice barely carried. "It follows the fresh blood. It will come here tonight." Tomas lowered the knife. "You've seen it." The fox nodded. He stepped from the grove, though his legs trembled. "It took my brother. I watched. I couldn't stop it." He looked at the stain, then at Tomas. "You keep hunting it. Everyone else ran. You didn't." That was the first clue Tomas had gotten in months. Not blood. A witness. "What is it?" Tomas asked. "A hound." The fox wrapped his arms around himself. "Black. It shines like smoke. Its eyes glow blue. When it takes something, it drinks the blood and the body just... goes." The wolf snarled. Tomas felt the air turn cold behind him. He spun. The hound stood at the treeline. It was larger than any dog, its body dark and flowing at the edges. Two pale blue eyes burned in its head. It looked at the blood on the grass, then at Tomas. "Get inside," Tomas told the fox. The fox did not move. He grabbed Tomas's sleeve. "It can't cross running water. The lake. That's why you're still alive here." Tomas glanced at the water behind the cabin. He believed him. He had no reason to, but he did. "Come on." Tomas pulled the fox toward the cabin door. The wolf ran ahead. The hound moved after them, silent, fast, smoke trailing from its legs. They reached the door and Tomas shoved the fox through. He and the wolf followed. He barred it and pressed his back to the wood, breathing hard. Outside, the hound stopped at the lake's edge. It could not pass the water. For now. Tomas looked down at the fox spirit, alone and shivering on his floor. He had wanted a clue. He had gotten a boy, and an enemy that now knew his door.