The Hollow That Answered

The arch narrowed while we watched it. Blue light dwindled to a seam, and the guide’s raised hand blurred behind it.

I wanted to reach through before it vanished. My palm stayed on the stone basin. The others were waiting for me to say whether we should go, though we had already agreed to approach together. The difference mattered. The path had opened for our shared choice; it could close if I tried to turn that into my own command.

“Can we enter while it’s like this?” I asked Orivane.

“The opening is unstable,” it said. “The connection may still carry us if we maintain the shared boundary.”

Pellune’s lantern-wings glowed faintly beside my cheek. “That sounds like a yes wearing a worried hat.”

“It is a yes with a condition.”

Rellin crouched by the basin. He studied the blue line as it trembled between the stones. “The roots beneath us are holding. If they start to draw away, I’ll tell you.”

Vaust came to stand beside him. “And if the guide loses the opening?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I kept my voice steady, though the figure behind the arch had begun to bend beneath the dark pressure. “We can go as far as the next boundary. Then we choose again together.”

Aunt Seli touched my shoulder. “I’m with you.”

The others gave their assent in turn. Vaust’s came last. He had no instrument in his hands, and the black stone remained sealed in the root vault above us. He looked toward the light, then back at the people who had agreed to cross.

“I’ll follow the boundary,” he said. “I still want my knowledge heard.”

“You’ll be heard,” I told him.

The shared bridge from our memory of the root bridge returned around us, thin as a reflection in water. It did not replace the chamber. I could still feel the old stone under my palm and hear the drip from the ceiling. The northern landscape gathered at the edge of that familiar place, drawing our attention through the arch.

Rellin counted us once, touching each person’s sleeve as he passed. Pellune perched on my collar. Aunt Seli stood close enough that our hands brushed. Vaust waited until everyone else had moved before stepping into the blue light.

I went last, still touching the basin.

The chamber floor remained beneath our boots. The arch carried our senses into the northern path, tethered to the circle by the pressure of my palm and the shared memory behind us. Gray soil stretched beneath a sky without stars. The guide stood far ahead, its hand still braced against the dark. A pale line ran from the arch to the guide, though it quivered whenever the darkness touched it.