by Chuck Black
Ganoaf reached for the lizard but could not lay hold of it. Once again Carliss was amazed at how quickly the lizard could match Ganoaf’s tunic in color and texture. Just as the lizard opened its jaws wide to latch onto Ganoaf’s back, Carliss grabbed the tail and yanked it from him, smashing the beast solidly into the ground, then casting it behind them.
The light of day was virtually gone, but Carliss could still see that the foliage around them was fast becoming a moving mass of camouflaged reptilian predators.
“You must go, Carliss.” Ganoaf looked up to where the sky peeked through a break in the overhanging canopy. “Spirit will help you.” He made a gesture just as the cry of a hawk penetrated the swamp. The hissing of the lizards instantly subsided, but only momentarily. “If you keep moving, you may be able to stay ahead of them. I will fight the Shadow Warriors.”
Carliss gulped. She had nearly forgotten about the Shadow Warriors, but now she realized they were just a few paces away and coming quickly. One of them screamed, and Carliss didn’t need to see to know what had happened.
“Ganoaf,” she exclaimed, “I can’t leave you here!”
“You must, Carliss. Trust me and go!”
Ganoaf turned and readied his rod of iron just as the first Shadow Warrior attacked. Carliss forced herself to flee, racing as fast as her feet would carry her. The distraction of the fight behind her seemed to confuse the lizards, allowing her enough time to put a few strides between herself and them.
The sound of clanging steel diminished with each frenzied step she took, and her heart broke for the friend who was sacrificing his life to save hers. Even if he was able to defeat both Shadow Warriors, he could never survive the esca lizards. She heard him yell, and the tears that welled up in her eyes made her flight through the darkening swamp more difficult.
“Ganoaf,” she whispered. For now that was all the mourning she could allow herself. She wiped her tears away and focused on her own survival.
Sssss. A lizard jumped to a tree trunk just ahead and hissed viciously at her, then seemed to disappear into its bark. She diverted to the right and tried to quicken her pace, but the crescendo of scurrying feet enveloped her and plunged her into despair. She knew the swamp was large, too large for her to make her way out before nightfall, and by then the lizards would overcome her.
Besides this, she was beginning to tire. She was breathing hard, the sweat pouring from her body in the humid swamp air. Her mind ran wild with sporadic thoughts of her family, Dalton, Ganoaf, Si Kon, the other Followers—all people of noble service to the Prince. Why did evil seem to have the power to overcome the good?
My Prince, where are you in this dreadful land? she pleaded in her mind.
Carliss jumped a fallen trunk and fell into a murky pool of mud and water. Her feet sank into the muck, and she struggled to free herself. Her lungs hurt, and she found it difficult to make her legs obey. It was as if she was in a bad dream, with legs made of iron and fearsome beasts chasing her… but this was no dream.
She lifted one leg up high, but the other just sank deeper into the muck, making her next step even harder. She was still five paces away from solid ground when it happened. Something dropped from above and latched onto her back, neck, and right arm. The lizard’s feet clung to her like a strangler vine, and she fought violently to free herself from it, but to no avail. The hideous creature shrieked, and Carliss tensed for the strike that would follow.
Then suddenly there was a flapping in the trees, and the lizard was yanked from her body in one powerful motion. She looked up and saw the hawk carrying the lizard up through the trees.
Spirit!
The rush of the fight had renewed the strength of her legs. Carliss pushed her way to the solid ground and resumed her flight, though it was becoming more and more difficult to see the ground and the vines that impeded her way.
She ran until her lungs felt as though they would burst and her legs burned from the exertion. She was nearly spent. After a few more moments she knew her end was near, for the darkness was nearly complete, and the hissing of hundreds of nocturnal lizards swelled to fill the air.
She stopped in a small clearing, trying to decide which direction was free of the lizards, but there was none. The wall of trees seemed to writhe and close in upon her. She collapsed to the ground on her knees and covered her head, screaming against the horrid sounds that would hail the end of Lady Carliss.
The first lizard landed upon her hunched shoulders, and she shuddered, deciding not to fight. She had nothing left within her to fight. She just waited through breath after heaving breath, shivering in fright and shaking from exhaustion. The hissing seemed to penetrate to her bones. One of the feet grasped her shoulder, but it did not feel the same as before.
“Slowly stand with me,” a calm powerful voice whispered in her ear.
Carliss froze. She dared not take her hands from her head. Had she already been stung by the esca lizard and was hallucinating as Dalton had?
She stayed still a moment longer, forcing her mind to be rational. Only then did she realize that it was not a lizard that had grasped her shoulder, but the firm grip of a hand. And the weight on her shoulder was the arm of a man. She slowly turned her head to the left and looked through the crook of her arm.
“Rise up,” the voice said again.
Carliss was trembling, but she obeyed the voice. Her legs could hardly support her, but she pushed herself to stand, then realized that the man had wrapped his cloak about her. Although the lizards were close and some were shrieking angrily, they did not attack. Carliss leaned into the protective cover the man provided, wondering how he was able to keep the deadly creatures at bay.
They moved slowly, and the lizards followed close by. She heard Spirit screech not far away but dared not lift her head to look for him. She wanted to speak to her protector but feared it might upset the delicate balance of the situation. To her it seemed as if one wrong movement or misspoken word would destroy this strange haven in an instant.
They walked for a long while in the darkness, even though she was exhausted and needed to rest. Gradually she heard the sounds of the esca lizards diminish. Then something strange began to happen. Beneath the cover of the man’s cloak, Carliss began to see an aura of light. It emanated from the ground and softly illumined the night. She lifted her head and chanced looking from beneath her cover.
Her protector had brought her to a garden in the midst of the gloomy swamp. Thousands of intricate low-lying flowers covered the firm ground in a blanket of glowing petals.
“The swamp lily,” she whispered and knelt down to gently feel the soft glowing petals of one of the flowers. They covered an area of the swamp that was nearly forty paces wide, and there were no esca lizards anywhere. Her protector had brought her to an oasis of good in a desert of evil.
Carliss closed her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing herself a moment of pleasure. Her body begged to lie down and rest. Then a frightening thought entered her mind. This whole experience was too surreal; surely she had been captured by one of Malco’s deceptive dreams. Was she yet a prisoner in his evil castle?
She looked up at the face of the man who had brought her to this place, expecting to see Dalton again, but this was a face she had never seen before.
“Do not be afraid.” His voice was so strong and yet so comforting. His eyes pierced straight through to her heart but left no wound.
Carliss wrestled with reality and fantasy. What did all this mean?
“Who are you?” she finally asked.
The man knelt down near her and smiled. “I am a friend. You are safe here.”
A heavy rustle nearby caught her attention, and Carliss looked up to see Spirit alight on a stump nearby, its feathers taking on a silvery glow in the light from the flowers. What a majestic bird. It reminded her of Ganoaf, and she grieved for him. Then she looked about at the unusual glow of the swamp lilies once more and remembered the strange words from Petolemew’s ancient book:
Nine days will bring visions of delight, but the tenth will be a horrible sight, for on that day the man will of surety die. The swamp lily beneath the morning star will preserve his life, but this remedy grows hard by the dragon’s nest. Though some have tried, all have died. Only one who seeks the light and overcomes will be victorious through the night. Beware of the swamps of Moorue and Basillow!
Those words carried mystery, promise, and dread for Carliss. Today was the seventh day. She had found the flower that would save Dalton’s life but was trapped in the middle of a deadly swamp with no means to get it to him. Even with Rindy, she would be hard pressed to make it back to Dalton in time.
The whole of her bosom ached. She looked back to the man kneeling beside her.
“Thank you, sir. You saved my life. If only…
Her voice trailed off as she thought of Ganoaf’s sacrifice and Dalton’s and the Followers’ imminent deaths. The evil of the kingdom seemed far too big for one young knight to bear.
The man reached down to the stem of one of the swamp lilies. Carliss watched as he gently pulled the flower from the ground, revealing a bulbous root. As he did so, the glow of the petals instantly faded, and Carliss wanted to tell him to stop. The man carefully held the dying flower in his hand before Carliss.
“Because of evil, it takes the sacrifice of one to give life to another. That is the cost. That is the reward.”
The man brushed the dirt from the root of the swamp lily and gave it to Carliss. “Eat. By morning your strength will return, and so will your courage. You are a faithful knight, Carliss, and have overcome. Now be valiant, for valiant you are!”
Carliss gazed at the man in wonder. She chose to trust him and took a bite of the swamp lily root, then chewed and swallowed the tasteless substance. Her lips, tongue, and cheeks began to warm with each passing moment, and she even felt the same sensation in her stomach. The warmth spread throughout her body, and she wondered if she had been tricked. Could the flower be as dangerous as the esca lizard’s poison?
Carliss felt the powerful pull of the ground on her body. She became so tired she didn’t care what happened next as long as she could be still. Her eyes half closed and she tried to speak, but the words seemed impossible to form. All she could do was watch drowsily as the man stood and drew his gleaming sword.
Would her own sacrifice be next? If so, there was nothing she could do to stop it. All she could do was lie down among the glowing flowers.
Her eyes drifted shut, and she fell into a deep sleep.
DAY EIGHT… MORNING STAR
Carliss slowly opened her eyes. She felt as though she had been sleeping for a hundred years. Her breathing was deep, and her arms and legs still felt strapped to the ground. She wondered if her mind was awake and her body was still asleep. It was a peaceful state and she lay still, embracing it for a few moments longer. Finally she lifted herself on one arm and looked about.
The swamp didn’t seem quite so dark, and the surreal garden where she lay was gleaming in the light of dawn. She saw wisps of fog slowly disappearing from around her small haven. The swamp lilies’ glow was subtle in the daylight, but the intricate beauty of the flowers was not diminished. She heard Spirit screech above the trees and knew he was watching over her. A moment later he swooped down and settled on the stump where he had rested the night before. Remembering Drox’s death ravens, Carliss marveled at how one large bird could be used for evil and another for good. It seemed to be the way of a fallen kingdom.
Carliss looked around for the man who had saved her and wondered if she had imagined him. Who is he? she wondered, not daring to assume the incomprehensible.
Carliss lifted herself onto her knees, turning as she did. Only then did she realize that just behind her, imbedded partway into the ground, was a brilliant sword of un-Arrethtraen beauty. She gawked at the splendor of the magnificent weapon. She ran her fingers along the golden handle and guard. Small, rare jewels inlaid in the gold reflected the colorful rays of the sun, and on the pommel was the perfectly engraved image of the King’s mark. The edge of the blade was so perfectly sharpened that she could hardly make out where it ended and the air about it began.
Such a sword could only belong to Him, she thought, and shivered.
Engraved in the white-silver blade near the hilt were the words, “To one who has overcome—be true to the King and His Son!” She looked on the other side of the blade, and her heart skipped a beat. She touched the gleaming letters that spelled out Morning Star.
Carliss stood and walked away from the sword. Something about it frightened her… and excited her at the same time. She looked at it from a distance and felt the strength of her muscles return. In fact, with each passing moment, she felt as though the energy of life was being poured into her bones.
She looked about for the one who had left the sword but could see no one—just the hawk preening himself on the stump. She walked the perimeter of her small haven of glowing flowers, looking into the surrounding swamp for him, but he was not there. She came to the sword again, reached for the handle, and then paused. The reality of her mission hit her hard as she remembered why she was standing here and what had brought her to this place. This was the eighth and final morning she could be in Moorue. Delaying even a few more hours would mean Dalton’s death, if Petolemew’s book was correct, and it had been spot-on thus far. If she was to make it back to Dalton in time, she needed to leave immediately. She might already be too late.
She knelt down to the ground and reached for a swamp lily, then gently pulled it out of the soft soil. The petals lost their subtle glow and seemed to wilt immediately. She pulled three more out and dusted off the bulbous roots. She tucked them within her leather vest, then returned to the sword.
“Well, Spirit,” she told the hawk, “I’m not sure what all this means, but I need this sword if I’m going to make it out of here alive.”
Carliss grasped the handle of the sword and pulled it out of the ground. Chills flowed up and down her spine as something deep within her whispered, You are called!
Carliss stood still as all the swamp noises seemed to collapse to silence. She looked down at the ground where the sword had been and realized that the swamp lilies around her were beginning to fade and wilt. Carliss became concerned that she had erred, for the entire garden seemed to be melting back into swampland. She reached down and pulled one of the wilting flowers out, but the stem disintegrated in her hand.
As she contemplated what was happening, Spirit screeched loudly and took to flight. Carliss nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked about, wondering which way to go next as the morning sunshine faded away beneath a thick layer of clouds. She couldn’t be sure where she was, but she knew that Malco’s castle lay due east of the city, so her best chance of getting out of the swamp lay to the west. Basing her calculations on the last position of the sun, she took a step in that direction, then froze. The familiar hissing sounds of torment began to fill the air, and now there was no place to hide.
Carliss ran, but once again the lizards seemed everywhere. She saw branches move without a breeze. She stepped near a log, and it opened yellow eyes and snapped at her. She had only sprinted a short distance when it seemed as though she would become overwhelmed again. She pushed through a thick growth of vines and trees. Her foot caught on a vine, and she fell to the ground. Thinking the lizards would be on her in an instant, she quickly rose to one knee and swung her sword in a circular arc around her, but it struck only air.
She snapped her head from side to side, looking for something to strike, but there was nothing. She noticed that the hissing of the lizards had subsided but did not go away. Only then did she realize that she had fallen into a strange and eerie abode. The peripheral trees she had stumbled through seemed to bend over to cover this dark domain in continual shade. On the ground all around her were dozens of large circular mounds made of twigs, vine, rocks, and mud. In the center of each were twenty to thirty apple-sized eggs.
She slowly stood and turned about, looking for some indication of the direction of attack that would surely come. She dared not go back the way she had come, for the lizards there would surely devour her in an instant. Here in the nesting area, they seemed reluctant to pursue. She didn’t understand why; perhaps they feared a struggle would destroy the eggs. Clearly, though, she had no choice but to try and make her way across the shadowy expanse of the nesting area—at least thirty paces to the next thick line of trees. She forced herself to breathe calmly but kept a tight grip on her sword.
Carliss carefully stepped between two nests, stopped, took a deep breath, and then moved on. Remarkably, she was able to proceed unhindered by the threatening shrieks and hisses of the lizards. After a painstakingly careful advance, Carliss made it two-thirds of the way across the nesting area. Coming to a point where two nests were very close together, she stepped between them and onto a loose vine. Here her quiet, careful journey through this abode of certain death ended.
The vine she had stepped on came alive in a high-pitched, ear-piercing shriek, for it was a camouflaged baby lizard. Carliss immediately lifted her foot, and the six-inch lizard scurried under one of the nests. What she heard next caused her to shudder. A deep, guttural hiss filled the air, and Carliss looked to the nearby tree on her left just ten paces away. The entire trunk seemed to move, and Carliss had to look carefully to see. Then, near the base of the tree, she saw two large yellow eyes glaring at her. Carliss whirled and brought her sword to bear in that direction just as the lizard’s skin color burst into vibrant hues of blue and orange.