I BROUGHT UP my Trace and took a look around. No Abominations within our immediate vicinity, at least.
Queet, you with us? The spirit had been supposed to travel with us, but he had been quiet for a while and I wondered if he was still around.
I’m here. I’ve just been meditating.
I didn’t know you needed to meditate once you… I paused, not wanting to be too blunt, but the thought of a spirit meditating seemed almost like an oxymoron.
Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I don’t get stressed out. Queet sounded ready to laugh.
True. Okay, keep your eyes open and tell me if you notice anything you think we should be aware of. I’m not sensing any Aboms around, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t zombies at play.
I’ve got your back.
We plunged into the Bogs. There was room for two to go abreast, so Vis—one of the guards—took the front. After him, came two more guards—Mara and Shend. Then Jason and me, and after us, Greta and Hans. Tyrell and Kendall came next, and finally, two more guards—Ki and Rally. We used our walking sticks to prod the ground. Every step was suspect, and even if someone was directly in front of us, it didn’t follow that we stepped in the exactly the same formation. One step to the left or right could be a plunge into quicksand.
Because of that, the going was slow and itchy, with the tall marsh grass brushing against us with its razor sharp edges. By the time we had edged in a few hundred yards, I had a dozen stinging cuts and was brushing away the skeet-flies who were looking for a good feast off my blood.
Twice, I almost stepped on a snake that slithered past. Though venomous snakes were rare in our area, there were still a few—rattlesnaps and copperbacks were the two most common. The rattlesnaps we could hear if they coiled near us, but copperbacks? Not so much.
It quickly heated up as the sun beat down, accentuating the fetid stench of the marshes. I grimaced. It smelled like we had stepped into an algae-filled pool, or an outhouse that had been sitting too long in the sun. Though this patch of the Bogs was still too young to have any of the ancient yew trees or cypress that the original patch held, there were saplings of the two trees, along with a number of willows. Something had sped up their growth, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if some of the rogue magic from the Sandspit had filtered in through here.
Ferns were already waist high, and the cat-o-kills towered over our heads, a good six or seven feet tall. The scent of bog-water was ripe, and I thought I detected the smell of rotting flesh intermingled with it, but I didn’t want to say anything.
We came to the end of the asphalt road. It had become so broken by then that—trail or road—it really didn’t matter. I stepped off the last remnants of the pavement onto the spongy dirt. Here, the danger of quicksand increased. We’d have to be extra alert.
“We should have thought about this back in the village. I don’t know why we didn’t think about how rough going through the Bogs might be.”
I kept my voice low, not wanting to alert anybody or anything that might be in the area. The Bogs had always held dangerous creatures, and I didn’t expect that to be any different now. In fact, they were probably rife with zombies as well as bog-dogs and the other fauna that had evolved in marshy patches.
Jason shook his head. “Honestly, doesn’t matter. So the Bogs are a lot bigger than they were. If not Bogs, we would be picking our way through rubble and scorched land. That might have been easier, but who knows what we’d be facing then? Really, it’s six of one, half-dozen of the other. There are always going to be wandering hazards. We have our ropes and lights and all the other gear we could think to bring.”
Fury, up ahead to your left about a hundred yards from here—tell the guards to watch out. There’s a bog-dog nest. Mother and bunch of pups. She’ll probably leave you alone if you don’t disturb her. Your party is large, but you should be aware of her anyway.
Thanks, Queet.
I relayed the information to the others. “Don’t disturb her. She’s with a litter of pups and frankly, if we don’t bother the mama, she probably won’t bother us.” It wasn’t that I had any love for the mutants, but the fewer fights we had to engage in, the better.
I could hear a low growling as we passed the area where she was making her nest, and part of me wanted to take a peek, but mama bog-dog wasn’t poking her nose out of the thicket of reeds, and I wasn’t going to poke my nose into it.
As we continued, I cautioned people to keep their voices low, but that didn’t stop fate from stepping in. We were probably two miles into the trek when the rustling of marsh grass alerted us, and we froze. I slowly reached down to draw my dagger. My whip wouldn’t be much use in such tight quarters. The guards quietly drew their swords. We waited and I brought up my Trace, but still no Aboms in the general vicinity.
Another moment, and the reeds parted as a group of five men broke through. They were dressed in leathers. Rough around the edges, they all sported beards that looked like they hadn’t seen the edge of a razor in months, and scruffy hair and various bruises and scars lacing their faces and arms. They were carrying weapons—a few blades, a nasty-looking ax, and several large hammers.
They stared at us, pausing. Then, one—I assumed he was the leader—stepped to the front. A good six feet tall, he had dark hair and even darker eyes, and he was missing a front tooth.
“You’re in our territory. Pay the toll or turn around and leave.” His voice was rough, sounding like he had laryngitis. An angry scar on the side of his throat still looked fresh. It was a dangerous place for a wound and, whatever had happened to him, it had probably affected his vocal cords.
“We’re just passing through. We want no trouble.” I stepped forward, keeping a firm hold on my dagger but not lifting it.
“Girl, you obviously have a hearing problem. I said pay the toll or leave.” His eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on the blade that he was carrying.
I let out a sigh. Even if we paid him whatever he wanted, chances were they wouldn’t let us alone. “What kind of toll are you talking about?” They didn’t look underfed, so I doubted if they wanted foodstuffs. And what use was money now?
“Give us your weapons and your jewelry.” He motioned toward my sword. “That’s a pretty bauble.”
Xan trembled in her sheath. I could feel her wanting out, to take a swing. My sword was sentient, to a point, but we hadn’t yet established any major communications. But sometimes, I would sense a movement or feeling from her. Now, she wanted a little taste of blood.
I backed away a step, using whisper-speak to talk to Queet. Are there any more of them? What do you think they’re up to?
They are, but they’re far enough away that they won’t be able to get here for a while. As to what they’re up to, they’re bandits. They’re probably from Shanty Town.
That’s what I thought. I brought my dagger up. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, boys. Why don’t you just back off and let us pass and we won’t give you any trouble.”
“You had your chance,” the leader said, and brought his sword to bear. “I guess we’ll just have to take them from you by force.”
He took a swing at me, but Vis jumped in, bringing his sword to deflect the bandit’s. I moved back as our guards took the lead. We stood ready, but they were prepared for this—trained for battle—and so we let them move in.
Our opponents were well versed with their weapons, though, and the fight quickly became a deadly dance. I tried to gauge what might help the most. I thought about starting a fire, but even though the weather was hot and the sun overhead, there was enough moisture in the Bogs to fizzle out my flames.
Hans and Greta moved forward, Greta’s wings brushing against me as she engaged the leader, giving the guard a chance to back off and rest for a moment. Hans put his own hammer to good use and broadsided one of the men who was focused on driving Ki back. She had been dodging an increasingly quick barrage of swings. Hans yelle
d for her to get out of the way as he landed his swing against the thief’s side. We could hear the crunch of bones and the thief shrieked as several ribs snapped. Hans landed another blow before he could react, this time hitting him upside the head to knock him off his feet. Then one final blow to break the man’s skull.
Shend let out a yelp as his opponent sliced him along the leg, drawing a sudden spurt of blood. Stumbling back, the guard dropped his sword as he frantically tried to control the bleeding. Kendall raced over to him as I pushed into place, deflecting the bandit from finishing off the guard.
I managed to swing around behind him. The moment I was close enough, I thrust my dagger into his back, right into his kidney area. He screamed and I twisted my blade, driving it deeper.
My opponent tried to reach behind in order to grab my blade, but I didn’t give him the chance. I slid the dagger out of the wound with a twist. The bandit let out another curse, but he was bleeding out by now. I had managed to stab something vital.
I pushed in, not wanting him to escape into the thicket. He stumbled as I crowded him toward the marsh, and then he began to flail, dropping his own blade. He was sinking fast, and I realized that I had pushed him into a patch of quicksand. While I was taking stock of what had happened, he lunged forward, already mired up to his knees. He managed to catch hold of my right arm and tried to pull me in with him.
Instinctively, I stabbed at him with my dagger and managed to catch his shoulder with the blade. But as I struggled to get away from him, I slipped on a wet patch of marsh grass and lost my footing. I stumbled forward, landing on top of him. That made him sink all the faster, but he tightened his grasp, dragging me with him so that I was caught by the floating sand as well. His head was below the surface and he was struggling wildly.
I didn’t want to lose my dagger, but I couldn’t take the time to try to find it, and I sputtered, now waist deep. My opponent had lost the fight, but he still had hold of me and it was apparent that he would go to his death holding onto my arm. Using my left hand, I frantically tried to grab hold of the nearest vegetation on the edge of the pit, but as the thief sank further, the edge grew further out of my reach.
“Help me!” I was chest deep now, and though I was trying to kick his body, to make him loosen his grip on me, I was sliding into a panicked haze. Within another moment, my head would be under the sand, too. Behind me, the sounds of fighting continued, but I couldn’t see who was winning, and all I could do was hope that somebody would notice what had happened to me.
“Grab hold of the rope!” Kendall was by the edge of the pit, tossing me a rope.
I thrashed around, trying to grasp the end of the rope with my left hand. Finally, on the third toss, I managed to catch it. I was chin deep in the liquid sand, and I looped the vine around my wrist. I gave one final kick and the drowned bandit finally let go of me. I brought my other arm up, out of the muck, and took hold of the rope with both hands, holding it tightly as Kendall dragged me out.
“Oof, you might as well be dead weight, woman,” she said. Then Jason was beside her, helping to pull me out. The moment I was half over the edge, he raced forward and grabbed hold of my arm, pulling me the rest of the way.
I rolled over onto my back, gasping as I tried to catch my breath. I felt like I could barely move. “I can’t sit up.”
“That’s because the quicksand numbs your body. Remember, everything in this area is laced with magic.” Jason knelt by me, helping me roll into a sitting position. I squinted, trying to make out what was going on.
“Are there still—”
A cry rang out and Jason sat back. “That’s the last of them. Mara’s wounded, as is Shend. Everybody else is all right.” He slipped off his backpack and rummaged through till he found a towel. He handed it to me. “I’m afraid we don’t have enough water to wash you off, but wipe off what you can.”
I tried to take the towel, but my fingers still didn’t want to work, so between Kendall and Jason, they wiped me down as much as possible. By that time, the feeling in my limbs was returning. I was able to bend my fingers and my joints no longer felt like they were frozen.
“Damn it, I lost my dagger.” I wasn’t happy about losing Xan’s companion, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I couldn’t go diving back into the quicksand after it. And there was no way the marsh was going to hand the blade back to me on a silver platter. “Fuck. Well, at least we’re all in one piece. How badly injured are Shend and Mara?”
“Shend took a couple nasty bites of the blade, and he’s sick from it. Mara broke a wrist when she fell over a pile of debris that was hidden by a patch of vegetation. But all the bandits are dead.”
Queet, are the others still too far away to be a threat?
Queet wafted around me. They’re still a good distance from here. You can escape them with plenty of time if you don’t sit around too long.
“Let’s get moving. There are others out there, but they’re still far enough away that we can escape them. Can Shend walk?”
“Yeah, though Shend’s gash is deeper than I like to see. We need to make sure an infection doesn’t set in. Do you have any antibiotic salve?” Greta was examining the guard’s wound.
“Yeah, in my pack. I brought a jar, thinking it might come in handy.”
I shrugged off my pack, grateful that it was waterproof. Sure enough, when Greta had wiped off the outer surface of the pack and opened it, everything was cozy and dry. I was still mourning my dagger as she found the salve and applied it to both Shend’s and Mara’s wounds.
“That should put an end to any possible infection. Let me wrap it up and see if you can walk on that leg.” Greta tended to the guard, then strapped up Mara’s wrist as best as she could.
I wearily sat my ass on the ground. The struggle in the quicksand had left me tired and achy.
“Are there other pathogens that could be inside that sand? I’m feeling achy in a way I don’t normally feel after a fight.” My stomach was roiling, since I had swallowed a couple mouthfuls of the sand as I struggled to get away from it.
“That’s because the chemical that causes the paralysis also seeps into your muscles. Prolonged exposure can lead to arthritis and neuromuscular diseases.” Jason dug into his backpack and pulled out a vial filled with capsules. “Here, take one of these. It will help your muscles warm up and settle your stomach.”
“I guess we need to be on the watch for more than just bog-dogs and Wandering Ivy,” I muttered as I accepted the pill and his canteen.
“We need to be prepared for anything. But the good news is, we’re only about a mile from where we turn straight north. Then it shouldn’t be too far until we reach the World Tree.” Hans slid the blade of his ax against the marsh grass, trying to wipe off the blood. “I’m sorry you lost your dagger.”
“Yeah, that’s a painful loss. Anybody have a spare? I have a feeling I’m going to need it. I have Xan, of course, and my whip, but I like having a weapon for close quarters as well.”
Mara handed me her spare dagger—she wasn’t going to be able to use it, after all. I slid it into the sheath, mourning the loss of Xan’s companion. But if the dagger and the guards’ wounds were the worst we encountered on this trip, it would be a small price to pay.
We set to march again, and Queet kept an eye out. I scanned the area again with my Trace, but so far there weren’t signs of any Abominations. I whispered a prayer to Hecate that it would stay that way.
BY THE TIME we turned north, off the path, the sun was creeping just past noon. We had made good time and, with the exception of the bandits, had managed to avoid any other encounters. I had grown used to the rhythm of the Bogs. They were different than they used to be—the feel was more feral and less malignant. In fact, it felt like their increase in size had decreased the sense that they were waiting for their next victim. But the difference didn’t stop me from starting at every noise that sounded remotely out of the ordinary.
&nbs
p; Once we turned north, the going grew rougher because we had absolutely no trail to follow. More than once, we nearly stumbled into quicksand pits. We skirted the edges so many times, I was worried that we might be getting off track. But Mara carried a compass and assured me we were staying on course.
“Milady, no worries, please. We’re heading in the direction that we need to go.”
I nodded. “Good. Thank you, Mara.”
Another hour and we broke through the edges of the Bogs. We were staring into the Sandspit. In the center, we would find the World Tree.
I stared at the unending patches of reddish sand. “Gear up, boys and girls. It’s time to rock ‘n roll.”
Chapter 11
SUDDENLY, I REALIZED Tyrell wasn’t with us. I was about to send Vis back into the Bogs to look for him when he popped out from between the reedy grasses.
“Sorry, had to take a piss.”
“Hurry up,” I said, frowning. “Next time, warn us you’re going to step to the side so we don’t get worried.”
As we stepped out of the Bogs into the Sandspit, I felt a swell of relief. The Sandspit, I was familiar with. Though we could see from the edges that the tsunami hadn’t left it alone, either. The fences the government had put up to encase it were gone. Huge boulders lay strewn around the Sandspit as though giants had been playing a game of dodgeball. At least I thought they were boulders till I took a good look and realized they were chunks of concrete and steel. Debris from broken buildings, I thought, as my heart sank.
Rusted cars were half-buried by the sand, and even from the edge we could see a number of skeletons and bones. They weren’t walking or animated, which actually made it more horrific as it hit home that they were the bleached bones of victims caught in the massive tidal wave.
We were all silent as we stared at the expanse. The waters that had engulfed the area were long gone, but the aftermath would last for centuries.
Fury Calling Page 15