Tomas Thornwood's Arc

Chapter 12 of 12

Luca slept by the great firepit, safe inside Onrion's ring. Tomas could not sleep. Arthur's words held him awake. The strongest souls still hunted his woods, and this fire only guarded the boy. So Tomas walked to the town's edge to learn what waited outside the walls. He needed to know how many souls circled Onrion before he took the fight to them. At the wall's base he found a dead thing. A hare, stiff and white with frost, though the night was warm. A cold soul had slipped near the town and touched it. Tomas crouched by the frozen body. He could not tell how many more souls stood in the dark trees beyond. The blessed fire lit only the ground at his feet. "That one won't rot," said a voice below him. "Cold keeps it fresh. Waiting." Tomas turned. A goblin stood in the shadow of the stones, no taller than Luca. Charms and cold iron tokens hung across his chest, small as pulled teeth. His eyes glowed yellow. Tomas had seen him twice before, always near the dead, never once helping. This was Dart Shadowgleam, who trailed the curse and gathered what death left behind. "How many?" Tomas asked. "How many souls out there?" "Wrong question." Dart knelt and touched the frozen hare with one finger. "You count them. They count him." He nodded toward the firepit, toward Luca. "Three strong ones. Watching the boy. Not the wall." Tomas gripped his knife. Three. He could not fight three souls with one torch, and he could not draw them to Onrion's fire. The souls feared flame but did not chase it. They chased living spirits. Dart pulled a charm from his chest. A small iron bell, dull and cold. "They came from the box you broke," he said. "Bound to it once. The bond leaves a mark." He held the bell to the frozen hare. It gave a thin, cold ring, and the frost on the hare flared brighter. "The mark answers. Iron from the same forge calls them." Tomas stared. "You can find them." "I find death. Same thing, near you." Dart did not smile. "The bell rings louder the nearer they stand. Follow it, you follow them." Tomas took the bell. It was heavier than it looked, and cold as river ice. "Why give me this?" "I collect what the dead leave." Dart looked at the frozen hare. "You make more dead than anyone. I want the whole set." He stepped back into the dark. Tomas rose with the bell in his fist. He knew the count now. Three strong souls, all fixed on Luca, none of them driven off by walls or fire. And now he held a thing that could point him straight to each one. He walked back toward the firepit, past the sleeping boy, and looked out at the black trees. The hunt was his to start.