Chapter 10 | Part 3

They told him everything. Or at least, everything they knew.

Eldric listened the way he’d been trained to, back when scouts came in from the border half-dead and talking too fast. He let them speak, then circled back, pulling at loose threads until the shape of it held together. By the time they finished, the picture in his head was full of gaps, but the pieces that were there fit.

Dulint and Balin had found the artifact in Stonehold, in a chamber that shouldn’t have existed. It had activated when Dulint touched it—or perhaps it had been active all along, waiting for someone to notice. Since then, it had been pointing, broadcasting, drawing attention from forces they didn’t understand.

The pursuit had started almost immediately. Not random bandits or opportunistic thieves, but organized groups who moved with purpose. People who knew what they were looking for.

“The artifact wants something,” Eldric said, summarizing what he’d heard. “It’s in a mode called Sense—detecting, locating, broadcasting its position. And that broadcast is what draws the pursuit.”

“That’s our understanding,” Xandor confirmed. “The Nexus system has multiple phases. Sense is just one of them. But an incomplete artifact in Sense mode is like a beacon that never stops signaling. Anyone attuned to these things can find it.”

“Can you turn it off?”

“If I knew how.” Xandor’s frustration was visible. “The system wasn’t designed for partial activation. It’s supposed to be complete—all pieces working together. One piece operating alone is… unstable. Unpredictable.”

Eldric approached the cube again. This close, he could see details he’d missed before—faint lines etched into the metal surface, forming patterns that might have been writing or might have been something else entirely. The wrongness he felt was stronger here, pressing against his awareness like a physical weight.

“You said it points at specific locations. Or specific people.” He studied the luminous face, the subtle orientation. “What has it been pointing at since you arrived in Riverhold?”

Dulint and Xandor exchanged a glance.

“North,” Dulint said. “Toward Frostgard, we think. But in the last few hours, it’s been…” He hesitated. “Restless. Shifting. Like it’s tracking something that’s moving.”

Something tightened in Eldric’s gut. “Something that’s moving toward Riverhold?”

“We don’t know. But the intensity has increased. Whatever it’s sensing, it’s getting closer.”

The room fell silent. Eldric counted heartbeats—his own, steady and controlled—while he processed the implications. An artifact that broadcast its location. Pursuit that wouldn’t stop. And now, something approaching that the artifact was actively tracking.

“You need to leave,” he said. “Tonight. Before whatever it’s sensing arrives.”

“We can’t.” Dulint’s voice was flat. “The pursuit is already between us and the northern road. We tried to scout a route yesterday. They’re watching every major path out of the city.”

“Then take a minor path.”

“With an artifact that signals our position? They’d find us within hours. At least in Riverhold, we have walls. Witnesses. Some measure of protection.”

Eldric shook his head. “Walls won’t help if they decide to take you openly. And witnesses only matter if anyone cares enough to intervene.”

Balin stood near the window, his young face tight with frustration. “So what do we do? Sit here and wait for them to come for us? Run and get caught? Every option ends the same way.”

“Not every option.” Eldric’s mind was working faster now, running scenarios, calculating probabilities. “You said the artifact tracks specific things. People, locations, events. What if it’s tracking someone who could help?”

Xandor’s eyebrows rose. “You think it’s leading us toward allies?”

“I think it’s leading you toward something. And if that something is moving toward Riverhold…” He let the implication hang.

The artifact sat on its cloth, unchanging, but Eldric could have sworn the luminous face was brighter than before. Pointing. Searching. Waiting.

“There’s another possibility,” Xandor said slowly. “The Sense mode doesn’t just track artifacts. It tracks people who are… connected. Seers. Prophets. Those who have touched prophecy or been touched by it.”

“Seers.”

“The texts are unclear, but the implication is that the Nexus system responds to certain kinds of awareness. People who see things others don’t.” Xandor looked at Eldric with an expression that was part curiosity, part speculation. “People who recognize patterns.”

Eldric felt something cold settle in his stomach. “You think it’s tracking me?”

“I think it started pointing more intensely after you entered this room.” Xandor gestured at the cube. “Look at it. The orientation has shifted since you arrived.”

He looked. The luminous face that had pointed vaguely north was now turned almost directly toward him. Not quite—not completely—but close enough to be unsettling.

“I’m not a seer.”

“No. But you see things others miss. You saw the Grukmar patterns when no one else did. You walked into this room and immediately mapped every exit, every threat, every connection.” Xandor’s voice was thoughtful. “The Nexus system doesn’t care about categories. It cares about function. And your function is to perceive.”

The artifact sat motionless, but Eldric could feel its attention now—subtle, persistent, like being watched by something that didn’t have eyes. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like any of this.

But he couldn’t look away from the pattern taking shape.

“If it’s tracking something moving toward Riverhold,” he said slowly, “and if that something is connected to this system the way you’re suggesting I might be… then we don’t need to run. We need to wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For whatever it’s calling to arrive.”

The words hung in the air. Outside the window, the sun was setting, painting Riverhold in shades of orange and red. Somewhere in the city, people were closing shops and heading home, unaware that something ancient and incomprehensible was signaling from a room above the Scholar’s Rest.

Eldric counted exits again. Three in this room. Four with the window.

He had a feeling he was going to need them.

End of Chapter 10.3 —> 10.4: The Knot at Riverhold: The Pull