Chapter 6: The Price of Prosperity

The morning sun slanted through the kitchen windows as Daniel spread out a collection of old maps and documents across the table, the leather-bound pact lying open beside them like a malevolent centerpiece. Ben watched his father work with a mixture of hope and unease—this was the most animated he'd seen Daniel in years, but there was something almost manic in his movements.

"The Heart of the Mountain," Daniel muttered, tracing his finger along the faded lines of a surveyor's map from 1887. "If it really exists, it would have to be somewhere in the original mine complex. The abandoned shafts up in the hills."

Allen perched on the edge of his chair, still in his pajamas but wide awake despite the early hour. The terror from his encounter with the Collector had faded into the kind of resigned fear that Ben recognized all too well—the look of someone who'd accepted that monsters were real.

"But Dad," Allen said quietly, "if this crystal thing is so important, why hasn't anyone found it already? The mines have been abandoned for decades."

"Because most people don't know what they're looking for," Daniel replied. "And those who do..." He gestured toward the pact. "They have good reasons to keep it hidden."

Ben studied the maps, trying to match the old survey marks with his mental image of the mountainside above town. The original Tourmaline Falls Mining Company had dug dozens of shafts into the granite peaks, following veins of semi-precious stones deeper and deeper into the earth. When the easily accessible deposits played out in the early 1900s, most of the tunnels had been sealed and forgotten.

"Here," Daniel said, pointing to a cluster of markings near the center of the largest map. "The main shaft. According to these records, it went down nearly three hundred feet before they hit bedrock too hard to excavate further."

"That's where we need to go," Ben said, but his father was already shaking his head.

"It's not that simple. Even if we could find the Heart of the Mountain, even if we could somehow use it as a substitute for the pact's requirements..." Daniel's voice trailed off.

"What?" Ben pressed.

"The founding families built their fortunes on the prosperity that crystal brings to this town. Tourism, real estate, the boutique mining operations that still pull gemstones from the smaller shafts—all of it depends on the supernatural abundance the Collector's pact created."

Ben felt a chill run down his spine. "You're saying they'll try to stop us."

"I'm saying some of them already know what you discovered last night." Daniel pulled out his phone and showed them a series of missed calls and text messages, all from numbers Ben didn't recognize. "Word travels fast in a small town, especially when it involves the founding families."

As if summoned by his words, the doorbell rang. All three of them froze, listening to the measured chimes echo through the house.

"Stay here," Daniel said, but Ben was already moving toward the front door.

Through the frosted glass panels, he could see several figures standing on their porch. When he opened the door, he found himself face-to-face with Mayor Patricia Ashworth, flanked by Town Council members he recognized but had never spoken to—all of them from the founding families, all of them wearing expressions of polite concern that didn't quite hide the steel underneath.

"Benjamin," Mayor Ashworth said with a smile that never reached her eyes. "We need to have a conversation."

She was a woman in her sixties, impeccably dressed despite the early hour, with silver hair pulled back in a severe bun and jewelry that probably cost more than most people's cars. Behind her stood Robert Kelly from the bank, Sandra Rosenthal from the tourism board, and two men Ben didn't recognize but who carried themselves with the kind of quiet authority that suggested money and influence.

"About what?" Ben asked, though he already knew.

"About your little archaeological expedition last night," Kelly said, his voice carrying a subtle threat. "Very impressive work, by the way. It took our families decades to figure out how to access that chamber."

"You've known about it all along," Ben said. It wasn't a question.

"Of course we've known," Mayor Ashworth replied. "Just as we've known about every child chosen by the Collector over the past century. Just as we know that you and your brother are the next selections."

Daniel appeared beside Ben in the doorway, his face pale but determined. "What do you want?"

"To help," Sandra Rosenthal said smoothly. "This is a difficult time for your family, Daniel. We understand that. But there are certain... realities... that must be accepted."

"Realities?" Ben's voice rose. "You're talking about letting that thing take me and my brother like it's some kind of business transaction."

"In a way, it is," Mayor Ashworth said calmly. "The pact has sustained this town for over a century. It's brought prosperity to thousands of families, created jobs, funded schools and hospitals. The sacrifice of a few children—tragic as it is—serves the greater good."

Ben stared at her in horror. "You're talking about murder."

"We're talking about survival," Robert Kelly interjected. "Do you have any idea what would happen to Tourmaline Falls if the pact was broken? The mines would run dry, the tourism would disappear, property values would collapse. Thousands of people would lose their livelihoods."

"So you just let children die to protect your bank accounts," Daniel said, his voice deadly quiet.

"We protect our community," Mayor Ashworth corrected. "As our ancestors did before us. It's a terrible burden, but someone has to bear it."

Ben felt rage building in his chest, hot and bright. "My ancestor was one of the original founders. He helped create this mess, and now you're telling me I should just accept being fed to it?"

"Your ancestor understood the stakes," one of the men Ben didn't recognize said. "He made a hard choice for the good of everyone. We're simply asking you to honor that choice."

"By dying quietly," Ben said.

"By serving the greater purpose," Mayor Ashworth replied. "Just as the others have before you."

The casual way she dismissed decades of murdered children made Ben's vision blur with fury. But before he could respond, Allen appeared beside him, still in his pajamas but no longer looking like a frightened child.

"What if we say no?" Allen asked, his ten-year-old voice carrying a surprising amount of steel.

The adults exchanged glances, and Ben caught something that made his blood run cold—they'd expected this question and already had an answer.

"Then we'll have to take steps to protect the community," Mayor Ashworth said gently. "The pact must be fulfilled, one way or another. If you boys won't go willingly, there are... other arrangements... that can be made."

"You're threatening us," Daniel said.

"We're explaining the situation," Robert Kelly corrected. "The Collector will have his due on July first. That's not negotiable. But how it happens—whether the boys walk into the darkness willingly or are delivered to their fate—that's still up for discussion."

Ben felt the world tilt around him. These people—pillars of the community, respected leaders, neighbors he'd known his entire life—were calmly discussing his murder like it was a municipal budget item.

"You have until tomorrow evening to make your decision," Mayor Ashworth said, already turning away from the door. "After that, the choice will be made for you."

As the group walked back toward their expensive cars, Ben heard Sandra Rosenthal say something to one of the men that made his heart stop: "Make sure the Brennan woman understands her role. We can't have any interference from the folklore enthusiasts."

Elara. They were going after Elara.

Ben slammed the door and spun around to face his father. "We can't wait for tomorrow evening. We need to find that crystal now."

"It's too dangerous," Daniel protested. "If the founding families are willing to threaten us openly, they won't hesitate to—"

"To what? Kill us?" Ben laughed bitterly. "They're already planning to do that. The only difference is whether we go down fighting or just lie down and let it happen."

Daniel stared at his sons—Ben blazing with righteous fury, Allen standing straight and determined despite his fear—and something shifted in his expression.

"You're right," he said quietly. "I've spent too many years being afraid, letting other people make choices for my family." He grabbed the maps from the kitchen table and rolled them up. "If we're going to do this, we need to move fast. And we'll need help."

"Elara," Ben said immediately.

"The Vance girl? But they mentioned her grandmother—"

"Which means she's in danger too." Ben was already reaching for his phone. "If the founding families are willing to eliminate anyone who might interfere with their plans, we need to warn her."

But when he called Elara's number, it went straight to voicemail. The same thing happened with the bookshop's landline.

"We need to get to her," Ben said, panic creeping into his voice.

"We will," Daniel promised. "But first we need weapons."

"Weapons?" Allen asked.

"Not the kind you're thinking of," Daniel replied grimly. "Knowledge. Information. The one thing those people fear more than losing their prosperity is having their secrets exposed."

He disappeared into his study and returned with a laptop and several USB drives. "I've been documenting everything for years. Names, dates, evidence of the cover-ups. If something happens to us, if we don't make it back from the mines, at least the truth will survive."

Ben watched his father work with growing admiration. This was the man he'd always hoped his father could be—not the distant, guilt-ridden figure who'd dominated his childhood, but someone willing to fight for his family.

"Dad," he said quietly. "Why didn't you ever show me this side of yourself before?"

Daniel paused in his typing, his hands resting on the keyboard. "Because I was afraid that if I let myself love you too much, it would hurt more when I lost you." He looked up at Ben with eyes that were bright with unshed tears. "But I realize now that trying to protect myself from that pain only guaranteed that I'd lose you anyway."

Outside, Ben could hear cars driving slowly past their house—the founding families' people, keeping watch, making sure their "problem" didn't slip away before it could be solved permanently.

Seven days until July first. But Mayor Ashworth had given them until tomorrow evening to decide their fate.

Which meant they had less than thirty-six hours to find the Heart of the Mountain, break a century-old pact, and somehow survive the wrath of the most powerful people in Tourmaline Falls.

Ben looked at his little brother, who was trying so hard to be brave, and at his father, who was finally willing to fight for them.

It wasn't much of an army. But it would have to be enough.

"Come on," he said, grabbing his jacket. "Let's go save Elara and end this thing once and for all."