"She's finally lost it," the dwarf said, shaking his head. "The rain has taken the last of her sense."
"Actually I—"
A crashing boom interrupted Avari as lightning split the sky. A tree no more than fifty strides from the road exploded in a shower of sparks. Yelps and curses rang out as people and equipment rained down from the backs of the panicked mounts. When the confusion settled, only Avari and Lynthalsea were still mounted. Two thoroughly sodden males lay in the mud, and a cursing Hadalli, who had managed to land on his feet, chased the three mounts and a mule that had bolted into the rain.
DoHeney sat in a puddle so deep that the soupy water washed over the tops of his legs, while Shay lay face down in a deep, muddy rut. The two women burst into helpless laughter as the priest righted himself, his face and beard caked in mud, sodden pieces of debris hanging from his sagging ears.
"I'm sorry... I just..." Lynthalsea stammered in an unsuccessful attempt to control her giggling.
Shay blushed through the mud, obviously mortified.
Avari did not even bother to hide her grin. "I'll see to the horses." She wheeled her mount and pounded down the road, sending back a splash of water and a peal of laughter.
"Well I'll be a pig-eyed orc with a curly tail," DoHeney said through the spattered mire. "If I'd o' known all it took ta put a smile on her face was ta roll in the mud, I'd o' wallowed like a pig days ago." He stood and emptied his pockets of dirty water.
"Let's camp here," Lynthalsea suggested, slipping from the saddle and pointing to the sizable flame burning at the blasted core of the lightening-struck tree. "The gods have provided us with a cozy fire with which to dry ourselves." She turned and led her mount through the thin brush that edged the road.
Rain drummed down onto the waxed canvas, a few random drops hissing into the blazing fire. Warm, dry and much more comfortable, the hours of the afternoon dragged. DoHeney and Hadalli stretched out to nap, Shay studied one of his books, and Lynthalsea tried to engage Avari in conversation.
Avari's good mood had been short-lived. Now she fidgeted, her patience wearing thin; inaction had never agreed with her, and here they were loafing when they still had hours of light left to travel by. The enforced idleness fanned the flames of her grief and anger once again.
She glanced over at Lynthalsea with deep resentment. Although she knew she was being unfair, she felt that they had traded Jundag's life for the elf's. The woman's gentle but persistent questions and comments did not help.
Indulging a vengeful impulse, Avari suddenly asked, "Is your whole family werewolves?"
"Avari!" Shay gasped as he looked up from his book. He glanced over at Hadalli to see if he had heard—werewolves were not beloved by most folk—but their new employee snored on. "That really is none of our business." He turned to Lynthalsea. "I am sorry for—"
"It's all right," she assured him. She blushed under their curious stares, then met Avari's narrow gaze. "I guess it really all began when I received this." She patted the great bow that lay across her lap; she had been oiling its shiny black surface and checking the spare strings for moisture.
"My mother was a renowned artisan, and had a great love of archery. She fashioned this bow from a black ash; it was my coming-of-age gift. On the day of the ceremony my father took me hunting in the deep woods, but there was no game. We were confused until we realized, too late, that all the animals had fled. Before we could reach the village, we were beset by a huge pack of dire wolves. My father boosted me into a tree, but they caught him before he could..." She paused for a moment, her gaze downcast. "He was killed defending me.
"The dire wolves couldn't quite reach me in the tree, but did manage to bite my leg. I must have fainted; I don't remember being rescued or healed." Lynthalsea gave a short laugh, not at all humorous. "Healed. Yes, my body was healed, but it soon insisted on taking the form of a wolf for periods of time. I had only vague memories of those times, and they were not pleasant; some innocent people were hurt. The village priests were unable to do anything to counteract the affliction." Lynthalsea paused and sighed deeply.
"After a few months of uncontrollable changes I decided to leave. I couldn't risk putting my mother and friends in danger. Maybe I thought the wilderness would cure me." She looked at her companions with a weak smile. "After some years I managed to gain control over my changes, and found friends that did not mind my canine persona. I truly don't know how long it has been. The years seemed to run together." The beautiful elf bowed her head as she returned her bow to its soft leather case.
Shay sat in thoughtful silence, but Avari rose and blundered away from the fire toward her blanket and provisions. Lynthalsea's tale affected her much more than she wanted to admit. The similarities between the elf's suffering and her own were too close, but they diverged in their outcomes. Lynthalsea had never had a chance to avenge her father's death, and had spent all those years alone to avoid harming others. Avari, meanwhile, had been helped through her troubles by Shay and others, and for their good deeds she had rebuffed them, threatened them, even blamed Jundag's death on them. Guilt rose heavy in her heart, adding to her self-imposed burden.
But how do I apologize? she thought. And how do I keep them from sharing the same fate as father and Jundag?
"Gods blast it!" DoHeney cursed as he twisted back and forth, watching the gem cupped in his hands. No matter how much he wished otherwise, it always shone brightest when he faced north, directly into the swamp they had been skirting for the last two days.
"I hate swamps," he complained to anyone within hearing. "They're wet and muddy and creepy and altogether unpleasant places ta be. And they stink!"
"Well, with this cold, at least we won't have to worry about insects," Lynthalsea said, heeling her horse back toward their prospective campsite, the base of an immense oak tree.
The dwarf's eyes spat daggers at her. "Have ye always been such a cockeyed optimist, or are the doggie diseases finally gittin' ta work on yer brain?"
She dropped out of the saddle and turned to face him, her teeth gleaming at DoHeney in a grin. But the guttural growl that issued from between those perfect rows of teeth set the hairs up straight on the dwarf's neck. The elf's facial muscles relaxed suddenly and she shook her head as if awakening from a dream.
"Sorry, I'm not used to—" she shrugged, "back-talk, I guess you would call it."
She led her mount to join the others while DoHeney realized that the smile had been a challenge; a wolf bearing its teeth to assert dominance over another. Jist hope there be more elf than wolf in that'n, he thought, pocketing the gem and pulling his drab pony toward the towering oak.
The tree trunk was nearly ten feet thick, and long strands of moss hung from the branches like tendrils questing for food. Many of the other trees nearby were dead, lifeless sentinels, overwhelmed by their burden of parasitic growths. This one had thrived where the others had perished, and the grass around it was a luxuriant green carpet, perfect for grazing the horses. This was the ideal campsite, and there was no longer any sense in delaying the inevitable; their trail led into the swamp.
"Fargin' swamps," the dwarf muttered, punching tent stakes into the ground with his knobby fist. "Slimy, murky, wet, foul and altogether nasty. I don't se why we can't jest keep on this course and try to get around the thing!"
"I thought you were going around!" Hadalli blurted, his greasy features painted with what might have been honest concern. "You're not thinking-uh just trudging right in there like a walk in the woods, are you?
"We will be taking precautions, Hadalli," Shay assured the slovenly fellow. "We are not novices at wilderness travel."
"You make sure you tell that to the first muck-lurker you run into, then." He spat a black stream of tobacco juice into the grass. "Them scum suckers've been known to swallow a whole team-uh mules, wagon and all! And that's not counting the poisonous snakes, spiders, quicksand, lancet grasses, and sword ferns. Strip the hide right off your hand, they will. No, siree, the
Black Swamp ain't like no hike in the forest, even an unfriendly forest. Near half-uh every bunch-uh lotus-loony root gatherers comes back half dead or not at all."
The companions shared dark looks but continued their preparations. "I told ye so," the dwarf muttered, jamming another tent stake into the ground like he was killing a vampire.
The first rays of morning sun glittered through the breaking clouds like taunting fairies, too soon for DoHeney. In contrast, Avari woke eager, making a few last minute checks on the horses and reminding Hadalli once again to rub them down every evening. Then she was at the perimeter of the clearing, pacing, stopping to check her supplies and weapons, then pacing again.
Her restless steps slowed when she saw DoHeney and Shay exchange low whispers and a small wrapped bundle. Curious, she raised her eyebrows to DoHeney when the two men parted, but he just winked and grinned covertly.
Shay walked toward where Hadalli waited with the horses, unwrapping his parcel on the way. Three steps from their guide, with the stunning ruby laying on the cloth, Shay closed his eyes, posed a look of intense concentration and waved the gem in an arc, passing it near the horses, then the bewildered hireling. Once finished he stood before the man, smiling disarmingly.
"Now, I assume you have seen how we use this to find our way." Without waiting for an answer, Shay continued. "Actually it is a simple location device. Once keyed on an object... or person, all the possessor need do is think of that object and move the gem. It will grow brightest in the direction of that object. Let me demonstrate." Shay had subtly positioned himself so that Hadalli stood between him and the swamp. "Now, I will concentrate on you." Once again Shay closed his eyes and drew the gem in an arc from left to right, quietly murmuring "Haseeva Ben Hadalli, Haseeva Ben Hadalli..." The glow of the gem intensified as it neared the frowning man.
"You see?" Shay said, ignoring DoHeney in the distance as he staggered away, holding a pack to his face to smother his laughter.
"But why..." the hired man asked, looking bewildered.
"It occurred to me that you might take this opportunity to leave us stranded, selling our mounts and equipment for a handsome profit." Before the man could protest Shay held up his hand. "I am not accusing, merely stating that I have keyed this to you and to the horses. If neither are here when we return, we will eventually catch up to them... and you." Shay wrapped the gem and placed it in a safe inner pocket, ignoring the scowl from Hadalli. He nodded a polite farewell and joined the others.
Finally, everyone ready, they advanced into the fen. Avari had been amused by Shay's little charade, but the humor only made her feel like she was betraying her own feelings. The vegetation pressed in, forcing them into a single file, and she took the lead without a word. In no time, the first fingers of the Black Swamp gripped their feet in its chill embrace, as if it never intended to let go.
Hours later the chill had invaded their bones, cramped their muscles and wearied their minds. Oddly, however, it was all Avari could do to keep from grinning. She felt the discomforts of swamp travel, of course, but she was no stranger to hard work in unpleasant conditions, and it felt good to have a goal in sight. Fatigue, pain and discomfort began to burn away the huge block of guilt that had frozen her soul.
"Blast this slimy pit o' gunk to Hades! It won't let go o' me foot!"
"Well, there you go, one more legend confirmed." Avari turned and helped wrench the dwarf from a knee-deep mud hole, finally losing her battle and breaking into a wide grin. "Dwarves do sink!" She clapped him on the shoulder and turned back to the trail, leaving him open mouthed and staring.
"I tell ye, it's got ta be the mud!" he hissed back to the others. "Ever time I waller like a pig, she's all smiles!"
Three more smiles, nearly as broad as the tall woman's back, followed her into the mire.
CHAPTER 36
The sisters Darkmist strode from the council chambers, airs of complacent nobility painted upon their features. Calmarel's teeth ground at the forced placation, so false, yet so useful when dealing with the suspicious council. Straining to pinpoint the spies that they both knew shadowed their every step, they continued on in silence. Finally, her hand straying to her spider amulet, Calmarel broke the silence, slipping back into her typical domineering and warped mannerisms.
"I think that bunch of brainless dung-spores actually bought it!" she said musically, her haughty smile intact.
"And why not?" Lysethra said. "Under the ensorcellment of the mediator, we could do naught but tell the truth." Knowing smiles flashed between them. "But if she ever discovers that we have circumvented her spells, there will be hell to pay. The mediator is no trifling force."
"Her powers do not frighten me," Calmarel said arrogantly.
"Her unholy powers frighten me neither, but you take for granted the one power she gained in becoming mediator that has nothing to do with the Dark Gods' gifts. She has the power to banish any of the ruling families from the council. If she should learn of our tampering..."
"That is one power she will never invoke." Calmarel's confident tone drew a questioning glance from her elder sister. "Clan Darkmist is too large and powerful; the resultant uproar would be heard all the way to the Nine Hells. Even a mediator has masters to answer to, especially if it appears that she is incapable of handling her responsibilities." Calmarel grinned. "And I am sure that between the two of us we could convince them of just that. No, I think the worst that might come of it would be an official reprimand and a monetary penalty.
I suggest we put those worries behind us and apply ourselves to the problems at hand." She grasped her sibling around the waist in an uncharacteristic display of affection. "I will need a bit of assistance in the next few days, sister eldest. I will be involved with our little project; you will have to act in my stead in all other matters, in form as well as function."
Lysethra smiled at the suggestion. Assuming each others' forms was something they had done often. It always proved entertaining.
"Perhaps you are right, Cal. Besides, being you will be a welcome change from all this politics, as long as you promise not to complain when your concubines find your attentions lacking upon your return." She clapped Calmarel's shoulder as they turned to ascend the long stair into Castle Darkmist, enjoying the ingenuous laughter bubbling from her sister's throat.
Avari's enthusiasm had been whittled down to a nagging, relentless core of fatigue-riddled will. She slogged forward, forging as safe a trail as possible, reminding herself that, if the travel was difficult for her, it must be hell for her companions. Avari was familiar with the perils of field and forest, but this soggy morass was new and unpredictable territory. She constantly probed ahead with a staff; they had learned, nearly at the expense of DoHeney's life, that quicksand lurked beneath pools of water that appeared deceptively shallow. Her friends were careful to tread in the soggy prints of her shortened strides; if she did not sink, the others could walk with confidence. They lurched along, tethered by a length of thin, strong line tied slip fashion; two quick jerks and they would be free to fight, flee or duck for cover.
The treacherous footing was not the only hazard. Hadalli's warning about the muck-lurkers had not been an exaggeration. Avari scratched the still-healing scars on her arm, inflicted by the hooked tentacles of the creature that had dragged her into the dark waters during their first night in the swamp. Only Lynthalsea's quick reaction and an arrow in the beast's glowing eye had saved her. With less begrudging than she expected, Avari admitted a healthy respect for the elf's archery skills, as well as the security of high ground for their campsites.
"I know why these vermin hid in the blasted swamp," DoHeney muttered under his breath, swatting another biting fly. "They knew that no dwarves would follow 'em in here!"
"Probably more true than you think," Lynthalsea agreed.
"So let us be glad that you are the exception, DoHeney," Shay chuckled as he teased the dwarf.
Despite the fatigue, discomfort, danger and unrelenting stre
ss, it buoyed their spirits to know they were on the right track. The gem had brightened visibly since they left the horses.
"Thank Eloss, some high ground." Avari grabbed a handful of thick reeds and hauled herself up a four-foot bank. Wincing at the tiny cuts the blades inflicted upon her palms, she tossed her staff behind her and hoisted DoHeney from the water, then stepped back into the reeds to give him room to aid Lynthalsea in turn.
"Up ye come, lassie." The dwarf heaved, clutching the elf's free hand.
As Lynthalsea climbed up, her almond eyes widened in horror, fixed upon something above and behind the two.
"Avari! Look ou—" Her hand squirmed and slipped from DoHeney's grip as she tried to draw and fire her bow while falling backward. The shaft missed DoHeney's eye by a hand-span, and flew over Avari's head.
Reactions honed by days in the swamp, Avari instinctively drew her father's sword and slashed behind her, felling an arc of reeds like a scythe-stroke. She felt the impact up her arm as the blade hit something hard—Its neck, hopefully— and stepped back in a defensive crouch. Unfortunately, she had forgotten that they were tied together. She heard a yelp from DoHeney, then the line about her waist snapped taut, jerking her down into the muck on top of the dwarf.
"Ye gods, woman!" DoHeney spat as she levered herself off him and out of the muck. "Can't ye—"
"Sssst!" Avari tugged off her line and lunged back up the bank like a sodden cat, waving the others to silence. Crouching, a quick glance over her shoulder settled her nerves. Crackling blue electricity writhed between Shay's intertwined hands; he alone had not been felled by their mishap, and was ready to back her up. She nodded to him, then prodded the pile of fallen reeds, looking for blood.
At her feet lay the top three feet of a sharpened pole; impaled atop the pole was a skull. The grisly object was free of clinging flesh, and apparently had been posted as a warning some time before the grasses grew to obscure it.
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