Xavier's Arc

Chapter 11 of 21

Xavier rode the tiger hard through the shallows. The leaf paste on its red shoulders had thinned. Its green bite grew faint. The sun climbed higher. Then the reeds broke open, and the flower field spread before him. Blue, gold, and white petals rolled out like a bright carpet. He had reached the flowers at last. He slid off the tiger and dropped to his knees. His fingers dug at the soil below the blossoms. He needed root deep enough to cut and crush before the paste failed. But the ground fought him. Here the mud ran thin over stone. The roots snapped short and dry. He tore up one plant, then another. Both broke off at the tip. No length. No sap worth using. Panic climbed his throat. The field stretched wide, but he could not tell which patch held deep root. Dig the wrong place and he would waste his last minutes. He looked at the tiger. Its ears twitched. Far off, a low howl rolled across the swamp. The pack. The paste was nearly gone. Reeds shook behind him. Berry pushed through on his heavy legs. The black bear had trailed Xavier across the water, the same as he had every night this arc, teaching the boy the swamp's every trick. His dark eyes swept the field. "You are digging blind," he said. He did not scold. He knelt beside Xavier and pressed his broad paw flat to the earth. "Shallow root grows where the ground is dry and pale," Berry said. "Deep root grows where the water pools." He pointed one claw toward the field's low center. There the petals stood taller, richer blue, their gold edges bright. "Dig where the flowers grow biggest. The big blooms feed on long root." Xavier ran to the tall blooms. He drove his bone knife into the wet soil and pried. This time the earth gave. A thick blue-and-gold flower came up whole, its pale root trailing long and heavy in his hand. Sap wept from the cut. He tore up three more the same way. He crushed the roots fast against a flat stone. The green bite rose sharp and strong. He smeared the fresh sap across the tiger's shoulders, then his own arms and boots. The scent sealed them clean. The howl came again, closer, then confused. The pack had lost the trail. Xavier sat back, chest heaving. He had root now, more than a pouch could hold. But the tiger stood taller than the tall blooms. Berry watched the beast, then the far reeds. "You have your mask," he said. "But a hidden scent is not a hidden shape. The pack hunts by nose now. Soon they will hunt by eye." He nodded at the tiger's bright red coat, blazing above the flowers. "You cannot crush that."