He woke to the golden warmth of morning sun on his face, to the murmur of voices low and urgent. Blinking against the light, Jude sat up, his body sore but his mind sharp, instantly alert. Lucy crouched near the water, studying something on the stone's surface, while Emma stood guard nearby, eyes scanning the forest.
"What is it?" Jude asked, already rising, brushing dew from his clothes.
Lucy glanced back at him, her expression tense. "Marks. New ones. Since last night."
Jude joined her, his heart quickening as he saw what she meant. The ancient lines on the stone had changed-subtle at first glance, but clear on closer inspection. Fresh grooves, thin and precise, formed a pattern that hadn't been there before. A spiral, faint but deliberate, curling outward from the spring's source as if etched by an unseen hand.
"It wasn't like this when we arrived," Lucy said, her voice low. "Something's stirring, Jude."