Tomas Thornwood's Arc

Chapter 6 of 12

The grey dust at the ring meant nothing now. Tomas kept his knife raised, but the mage did not attack. He only smiled at Luca, and the boy's tail curled tight. "Cleaning one stone changes little," the mage said. "My power does not live in the blood. It lives where I hid it. Until you find that, the curse will simply grow a new root." Tomas felt the words land like a stone in water. He had won nothing. The hound's door here was shut, but the mage could open another. Auria stepped up beside him, silver eyes fixed on the pale figure. "Then he'll tell us where," she said, "or he won't leave here breathing." The mage laughed and raised his bandaged hand. Old scars glowed red. Tomas's arm went heavy, forced down by unseen weight, the same blood grip that had beaten him before. He fought it and lost. His knife dipped toward the dust. A shape burst from the trees. Tomas's wolf, lean and scarred, hit the mage from the side. The grip snapped. Tomas gasped and stumbled free. The wolf tore at the mage's sleeve, and blood ran down the pale wrist onto the ground. Auria moved fast. She pulled a pale birch bow from her back, the one she kept wrapped in cloth, its bone arrows dark with old poison. Above her a raven dropped from the branches, screaming, wings beating at the mage's face. He staggered, blind for one breath. "Tomas," Auria called. "His blood. On the ground." Tomas understood. Fresh blood at the ring called the shade's kin. But it could also mark the mage himself. He grabbed the last salt from his pack and flung it across the mage's bleeding wrist. The mage screamed. The salt burned where his own blood touched it. "His power hides in a thing," Auria said, drawing the bowstring. "Bound with his blood. Break the blood bond and he must show it." She loosed. The bone arrow struck the mage's shoulder. He fell against the tall stone, clutching the wound, poison spreading dark under his skin. He did not die. But something changed. From under his robe a small iron box slipped loose and clattered on the stone. It was hot. It hissed like the salted stain had hissed. Luca crept forward and pointed. "That," the fox spirit whispered. "It smells like my brother." The mage grabbed the box and fled into the trees, one arm dead at his side, the raven chasing him. He was hurt now, weak, and running. But he had the box. Tomas knelt and caught his breath. Auria lowered the bow. "That box holds his power," she said. "Now we know what to hunt." Tomas looked at the path the mage had taken. The curse had a heart at last, and it had legs. He wrapped his cut hand and stood. "Then we follow the box," he said. "Before he hides it again."