Zach Brenner's Arc

Chapter 8 of 86

The wall stayed shut for three days. Zach watched it from a doorway across the alley, hood low, until his eyes burned. He remembered the way the hooded man had pressed a bare palm to the stone. But nothing marked those hands that Zach could see. No ring. No glove. No brand. Without knowing the trick, the door stayed dead rock to him. On the fourth morning, Raven found him still staring at it. She crouched beside him and spoke low. "You're waiting for a door that doesn't want you. We need someone who reads magic." She looked up toward the castle that crowned the walled city. "There's a mage guild in the west tower. If anyone can tell us what opens that door, it's them." Zach shook his head. "Why would a guild help two strangers?" Raven touched the wrapped blade at his back. "Because of what you carry. Show them the sword. They'll want a closer look at the man the sword chose." They climbed through the tangled streets until the ground turned to stone stairs. The west tower rose gray and tall, its windows glowing faint blue. A robed woman met them at the door. Her eyes were tired, and ink stained her fingers. "We don't do favors," she said, already turning away. Zach unwrapped the sword. He set the point on the stone floor and let its weight settle. The blade caught the blue light and threw it back. The woman stopped. Her tired eyes went wide. Two more robed figures drifted from the shadows behind her. "Where did you get that," she said. It was not a question. "From a stone," Zach said. "It pulled free for me and no one else." The woman came close. She did not touch the blade. She held her palm over it and closed her eyes. "This was forged against Darkthorne," she whispered. "You're the one they've felt waking." She looked at Raven's cat ears, then back at Zach. "What do you want from us?" Raven answered. "There's a hidden door in the city wall. Darkthorne's men open it with a touch. We can't. We need to know how." The woman's face closed. "The blood door." She glanced at her two companions. One shook his head hard. But she kept looking at the sword. "It doesn't read a mark on the hand," she said at last. "It reads what's in the blood. Darkthorne's followers carry a trace of his line, or an oath sealed in blood. The stone tastes it." Zach's stomach dropped. "Then I can never open it. My blood is nothing to Darkthorne." "No," the woman agreed. "You can't open it by right." She reached into her robe and drew out a small glass vial of dark liquid. "But we can forge the taste. One drop on the stone, and it will believe you belong." She held the vial back from his hand. "It works once. And once it opens, everything behind that wall will know a stranger came through."