Blood remembered

Chapter 13: Sent

The stone was still cracking on the floor. Whispering. Varga stared at it like it might bite him. Then he kicked it. The sound stopped.

“Pack it up,”

he said to no one.

“You two. With me.”

He walked out of the tent. Didn’t wait to see if we followed. Sarah and I exchanged a look. Then went. Outside, Gray Ridge was already moving. Warriors sharpening blades. Checking bows. The air smelled like iron and snow. Varga stopped at the edge of camp. Looked toward the south. Toward Crescent territory.

“You’re going back,”

he said. No question. I stiffened.

“To the Vault.”

“To close it.”

He turned to us.

“If what the old stories say is true, only the keys can turn it back. And only at the site.”

Sarah stepped forward.

“You believe us now?”

“I believe my land is bleeding black stone.”

His milky eye twitched.

“I don’t care if you’re cursed or blessed. I care that it stops here.”

He pulled two packs off the ground. Threw one to each of us. Food. Wraps. A dagger each.

“Leave at first light. Two days’ run if you don’t stop.”

“Alone?”

I asked.

Varga’s mouth twitched. Almost a smile.

“You want an army? Take one and the Hollow will smell you from a mile away. You go quiet. You go fast.”

He leaned in. Voice dropped.

“And you come back alive. Both of you. Or I burn Crescent to the ground looking for you.”

That was as close to permission as we’d get.

“Understood,”

I said. Varga nodded once. Then he turned and barked orders to Mara.

“Double the north patrol. No one sleeps.”

He didn’t look at us again.

First Light

We left with the sun behind us. No guards. No send-off. Just the two of us and the tree line. Sarah was quiet for the first hour. Then:

“Do you think we can actually do this?”

I adjusted the pack.

“We have to.”

She nodded. Took my hand. We ran. By midday we were deep in the forest. Silent. The snow was thinning.

That’s when I felt it. Eyes. Not the Hollow. Wolves. I didn’t say anything. Sarah didn’t either. But we both picked up the pace. Behind us, faint. Two sets of footsteps. Keeping distance. Trying to be quiet. Failing. Mara’s best. Varga sent an escort. I almost laughed. He didn’t trust us not to run. Or not to die. I squeezed Sarah’s hand.

“We’re not alone.”

“I know,”

she whispered back.

“Let them follow.”

Because if the Hollow came... we’d need them. And if Crescent was waiting... we’d need them more. The trees got darker. The air got colder. And far ahead, through the bare branches, I could see it. The Crescent border. And the mountain with the tunnel entrance. With the Vault underneath it. The keys were going home.