The Debt of Hollow Bells
fantasy◐ MatureMaren read the page by lantern light. It described tonight in perfect detail: the early bell, her shaking hands, even the lantern she held. The last line said, "She will dig up grave 601 before dawn, or the bells stop ringing for good." She had only six hundred graves. There was no 601. Not yet.
Instead of digging, Maren flipped to the very front of the casebook and read her first entry, written when she was young. The name of her first-ever ringing had been scratched out. Under the scratch, faint, was tonight's handwriting. She had met this writer before, long ago, and made a promise she could no longer remember.
What happens next?
1 ways forwardMaren shut her eyes and forced the memory back. A cold barn. A starving girl. A stranger who taught her the bells in exchange for one favor, someday. "I remember you now," she whispered. The bell in the tower rang once, soft and almost grateful. "Then you know what I came for," the voice said. She took up her spade and dug the last grave, and at dawn the debt was paid and the yard fell quiet.