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Arathan drew a breath, minded to voice a warning, when with an offhand gesture she tossed the acorn into the yard.
‘Oh,’ Arathan managed.
Where the acorn had landed amidst yellowed grasses, the earth suddenly heaved, rising and then slumping over, building a mound of steaming black soil.
Behind Arathan the stones of the Azath House groaned. Spinning round, he saw grit trickling like rain down the pitted façade. An instant later Korya joined him, her expression slightly wild.
From the fresh mound in the yard a tree was now growing, branches twisting out from a stunted trunk that visibly thickened. Roots snaked out to grip the mound.
The house groaned again, and Arathan heard a dull click. Turning, he reached for the latch. The door opened, and at a gentle push swung soundlessly inward, revealing a short corridor flanked by alcoves. The light spilling in reached no further.
‘The tree is trembling,’ Korya said, her voice unsteady and faintly breathless. ‘As if it’s in pain.’
‘What was that acorn?’ Arathan asked, even as he edged closer to the door’s threshold.
‘A Finnest.’
‘What’s that?’
She licked her lips. ‘Lots of things. A place in which to hide your power away, or a piece of your soul. Even a secret you want to keep from yourself.’ She hesitated, and then added, ‘Sometimes it’s a prison.’
‘A prison?’
‘There was a god inside,’ she suddenly said. ‘Ancient, forgotten. Someone shed blood in the camp and summoned it. That was a mistake, but Haut – me and Haut – we trapped it.’
‘You and Haut, was it?’
‘You saw! I had the acorn, not him, right? Yes, the two of us!’
The tree was now as tall as Arathan, but twisted, nightmarish, bleeding sap from swollen fissures in its trunk, its branches shivering incessantly. ‘That’s an angry god,’ he said.
‘Doesn’t matter. It’s not going anywhere.’
‘Are you sure? I’d say it was fighting to get out, and whatever is trying to hold it down is in trouble. What I want to know is, what made you throw it into the yard?’
‘I don’t know. It just felt right.’
One of the larger branches split with a sharp crack. Arathan took Korya by the shoulder and pulled her with him as he crossed the threshold. Once clear he shut the door. The latch settled into place.
The darkness slowly faded.
‘Why did you do that?’ Korya asked. ‘Now we’re stuck in here.’
‘I doubt it,’ he replied. ‘See, the lock is a simple one: just lift it clear and the door opens.’
‘Fine, but who opened it the first time?’
* * *
Haut found Hood at the meagre hearth with its illusionary fire, the cold flames flickering in the gloom. Squatting down opposite, he spoke in a low tone. ‘We have a problem.’
‘I know.’
‘We pretty much killed that Azath House, and what’s left has been dying for centuries. Whatever that elder spirit was, it’s a powerful bastard, too powerful for that old yard.’
‘Nine of our kin fed that yard,’ Hood muttered, his hands hovering above the flames. ‘None made it back out, no matter what we did to that house.’
‘That was long ago, Hood, when it still had some spine.’
