Tomas Thornwood's Arc

Chapter 5 of 12

Tomas came back to the cave with lake water still dripping from his sleeve. His cut palm throbbed. Luca slept by the fire, ears flat against a bad dream. Auria met Tomas at the door, silver eyes narrow. The shade was broken, but the black blood at the ring had not changed. Tomas knew the truth now. As long as that blood never dried, the hound would keep crawling out of the stones. Killing the shade fixed nothing at the source. "I broke the leash," Tomas said. "But the ring still bleeds. The hound still comes." He pressed his good hand to the stone wall. "I need to clean the blood. Burn it, wash it, anything. Or none of this ends." Auria pulled the cracked leather book from its shelf and set it on the table. She turned pages until she found a marked line, tracing the old ink with one finger. "Black blood from the stones can't be washed by hand," she said. "It answers only to old cures. Cold iron. Salt. And running water, poured on the source itself." She looked up. "Not your blood this time. Clean water, carried to the ring and spilled over the stain." "Then I carry the lake to the stones," Tomas said. He filled two skins at the shore before dawn. Auria packed her bundle of dried herbs and a fistful of salt from her stores. Luca woke and would not stay. "My brother died there," the fox spirit said, voice small but firm. Tomas let him come. They reached the ring past the grove. The black blood pooled at the center, wet and shining as ever. No hound yet. Tomas scattered the salt across the stain. It hissed and smoked. Then he poured the lake water over the source, both skins at once. The blood boiled black, then thinned. For the first time it began to dry, cracking to grey dust. Luca crept close and touched the dead stone. "It's cold," he whispered. "It stopped." Auria knelt, pressing her palm flat. "The source is clean," she said. "The hound loses its door here." Tomas breathed out. One site closed. The curse's origin, cleansed at last. Then a figure stepped from behind the tallest stone. Pale skin, red eyes, a dark robe stained at the cuffs. The blood mage. He looked at the grey dust where his shade once fed, and his face twisted. "You cleaned my ring," the mage said softly. He raised a bandaged hand toward the fox spirit. "But the boy's blood can wake far worse than a shade. And I no longer need to bargain for it." Luca shrank against Tomas's leg. Tomas stepped in front of him, hand on his knife. The ring was clean. The mage stood between them and the only path home, and now he wanted Luca himself.