That would not be until full morning , but there were further preparations to make .
Two rune-rods , elder folk make , needed to be primed and ready to use in a moment . Months had passed while Jona empowered them for one use each . Time was he could have used them a dozen times on that charge and spent less than a day getting them ready again . He shook his head and considered the metal cylinders , long as his forearms and big around as his thumb with old runes he could no longer read etched into the surface .
Red overcame gray as the sun broke the over the hills . The time had come and there was no room to dither , much as he might have liked to . With the new light , the curse ’ s deathly stench had gained a sharp characteristic that stuck to Jona ’ s tongue . If anything was going to be done , it had to be today . Otherwise , even those without the gift of Scent would suffer .
He crested the bald hill again and only hesitated a moment before making his way down to the ring of blackened stones . Each one stuck out of the grass at an odd angle , as if on the verge of collapse . The stink was almost suffocating , in spite of a prevailing breeze which came to swirl around the bowl-shaped valley before being on its way . He spied the blackened door in the midst of the stones . An ash-smudged archway held the door itself in place atop three wide steps .
Jona could not tell what material the door had once been made of as he approached . The color was such that it should have been little more than a pile of charcoal , aside from a brass ring that seemed untouched by both the elements and the fire . A deep breath steadied his nerves enough to take hold of the ring and pull .
It didn ’ t budge .
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