The Schism (The Broken Prism Book 4)

by V. St. Clair

  It sounded weak, even to him.

  Without opening his eyes immediately he said, “We need to go left,” making up his mind and deciding to trust Master Laurren. The man was eccentric and unpredictable, but he had such an other-worldly aura about him—especially with those purple-blue eyes—that it was easy to believe that he was able to tap into all sorts of strange magic that couldn’t be explained.

  “You’re joking,” Harold barked out, frowning when he saw that Hayden wasn’t smiling. “You’re serious?”

  “I know it looks a little…intimidating…” Hayden began, “but we need to go through the swamp.”

  Tanner gave him a concerned look and asked, “Why?”

  Because one of the weirdest people I know experimented with some sketchy magic and had a dream that I should go left at some unspecified time, and I think this is it.

  “One of my teachers told me there would be a fork in the road and that I needed to go through the swamp or we’d die for sure.” That was at least partially true.

  Harold snorted and said, “Okay, I didn’t want to say it earlier, but it’s obvious that you’re starting to go nuts.” He leveled an accusing stare at Hayden. “I thought you’d last longer than this, but apparently the magic is screwing with your brain extra hard or something.”

  “I haven’t lost my mind—not yet,” Hayden answered flatly. “It’s true that I can feel the pressure on my Foci, and sometimes I have moments where I feel a little off, but I’m still thinking clearly. We need to go left.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Harold flung his hands up into the air in exasperation. “You, Tanner, you can’t possibly be thinking of following this loon’s advice any more. Surely you agree that we have to go right if we want to survive?”

  Tanner said nothing for a long moment, studying Hayden carefully. Hayden tried to look as sane as possible, but wasn’t at all sure whether it was working or not. Finally, the man said, “The mages put the boy in charge because he’s supposed to know what he’s doing. If he says he was told to go through the swamp, then we should probably trust him…”

  Harold looked like he had just seen a flying pig go by.

  “Have you lost your mind too?!” he raged, actually stomping his foot in frustration. “Are you two so determined to die that you’re just going to go haring off into a swamp with treacherous footing and grass so tall you can’t even see what’s hiding behind it?”

  “That’s what I plan to do, yes,” Hayden nodded, forcing himself to remain calm in the face of the larger man’s anger. “Are you coming with us?”

  “Hell no,” Harold fumed. “I didn’t sign up to die—I’m just doing this for the reward, and because those mages made you out to sound a whole lot smarter and stronger than you actually are. We got lied to, and I don’t intend to die for it.” He took a few steps away from them and then added, “I’m headed to the gate and making an exit. If you all make it through then I’ll see you on the other side—otherwise I’ll tell your friends and families to make funeral arrangements.”

  And with that he walked off towards the right-hand path and left them. Hayden looked at Tanner, half-worried that he was going to change his mind and follow Harold, but to his immense relief the other man sighed and said, “Well, guess it’s just you and me.”

  At that moment Hayden would have welcomed anyone’s company as long as it kept him from navigating a deadly swamp in the heart of a schism all alone, wondering when he was going to die or go completely insane.

  Harold got maybe thirty feet away from them when he let out a strangled yell and fell straight through the ground.

  Hayden jumped in surprise, and Tanner let out a soft noise of alarm. Somehow the solid-looking ground had just opened up and swallowed Harold whole, rippling slightly as it settled back into place.

  “What just happened?” Hayden asked out loud, trying to make sense of it.

  “I—it looks almost like quicksand…but I’ve never seen any quicksand that worked that fast before.”

  Hayden couldn’t believe that that light layer of sand was concealing a sinkhole large enough to swallow a man in less than a second, and he had just seen it with his own two eyes.

  Swallowing hard he said, “Definitely left,” and led the way into the swamp.

  15

  The Lone Hunter

  Navigating the swamp was slow, dangerous work.

  Hayden was torn between trying to hurry through as fast as he could before he lost his mind, and the need to move carefully and methodically to avoid sharing Harold’s fate.

  The swamp was hot and humid in a way that the surrounding areas hadn’t been, and Hayden had no idea how it managed the effect when there was a constant breeze rippling through the tall grass that should have carried away some of the humidity at least. Soon he was sweating, his injured hands throbbing and his Foci still burning higher and higher up his arm. The pain was past his elbows now.

  Tanner looked pale and tired, his arm obviously still hurting him, though he didn’t complain about it or anything else as they picked their way carefully over the treacherous, unstable ground.

  Hayden constantly felt like he was going to plummet through the earth like Harold had, walking on such a squishy surface that was constantly giving way beneath his feet and forcing him to shift his balance until his legs ached. Sometimes he would take a step only to have the ground give way entirely, and Tanner would grab his arm and pull him back before he toppled into the murky, fathoms-deep swamp water below.

  They did their best to avoid the standing pools of water between the tall grass, where mosquitos hovered, waiting for fresh victims to feed off of.

  Because this swamp wasn’t miserable enough without mosquitos…Hayden thought ruefully, swatting at a particularly glutted one that landed on his arm.

  Once or twice he thought he heard something slithering beneath the surface of the water, and he and Tanner would stay perfectly still and silent and wait to see if it came nearer. The first three times this happened, they got lucky and the water-creature moved away without bothering them. The fourth time Hayden saw an alligator cutting towards them through the rippling water.

  His first stupid thought was, I can never tell the difference between alligators and crocodiles.

  His second thought was, Wow, that croco-gator sure moves quickly…

  He took aim and threw his knife as hard as he could towards the thing’s head just before it reached them, the tip of his blade catching it on the nose before the knife sank into the water.

  He had no choice but to fling himself into the water to avoid getting eaten as those enormous jaws opened and approached at a depressing speed. Spitting out murky swamp water, Hayden kicked his legs to tread water and looked around to find Tanner, who had also entered the water at some point.

  The croco-thingy was at least ten feet long, and judging by the multicolored scales on its back, he assumed it was magically inclined, doubly-bad news.

  Tanner emerged nearby and blinked water from his eyes as the monster turned around for another pass at them. They flailed in the water, trying to swim away, but it was much too fast and was on them within seconds. It clamped its jaws around Tanner’s leg and jerked him closer so hard that the man got whiplash from the force.

  Hayden tried not to focus on the horrible gurgling screams coming from Tanner as the man submerged and then came back up for air, struggling against the creature while his leg bled into the water around them, coloring it a dull brown. He fished around his belt wildly for anything that might be helpful, but all he had left was one knife, his buckler, and a flash bomb.

  The gator released Tanner’s leg just long enough for him to reposition his jaws so that he could snap the man in half, and Hayden took advantage of the momentary opening to pull the pin on the flash bomb and lob it into the creature’s mouth.

  He closed his eyes just as the thing exploded, blasting chunks of monster all over him while casting brilliant, blinding light around the area. Hayden was fo
rced to tread water with his eyes clamped shut for almost a full minute until the light faded to a bearable level, trying to find Tanner by the sound of his groans as he flailed about weakly.

  When he finally opened his eyes he could see dancing patches of light in front of him, despite having closed them against the brilliance of the flash bomb. He knew he had probably just alerted every monster within a ten mile radius of their position, but there hadn’t been anything else he could do to kill that huge beast.

  I wish I’d taken more than one of them from Torin…

  He found Tanner clinging to some reeds, moaning in pain as his leg continued to bleed into the water. The blacksmith’s apprentice looked around wildly with unseeing eyes, calling out to Hayden even though he was right in front of him.

  “Oh no, did I blind you with that flash bomb?” Hayden asked apologetically, swimming over to help Tanner out of the water and back onto the marshy path they had been following. “Sorry about that—there wasn’t time to warn you. I’m pretty sure the effects are temporary…”

  “Never mind that, you saved my life,” Tanner focused his eyes a little to the left of where Hayden was standing, obviously responding to the sound of his voice. “How bad is my leg?”

  Hayden sat on the squishy ground and ripped the older man’s pant leg at the knee, examining the damage. There were distinct bite marks piercing his leg in a dozen places, most of them still bleeding. He would have those scars forever if he survived this horrible mission.

  “It’s not great…” he answered honestly. “But I think you’ll live. I’ve got a coagulant in my bag if it’s not all flooded by now—I’ve been saving it for a really bad injury, but with your arm still bleeding too I think this qualifies.”

  He rummaged through his soaking wet bag, finding the little phial of black liquid and tipping it into Tanner’s mouth. The man drank it eagerly and grimaced at the aftertaste, but his wounds almost immediately stopped bleeding.

  “Thanks, I’m getting pretty lightheaded from blood loss. Hopefully I start to get better soon so I don’t slow you down,” Tanner admitted, sitting down on the marshy ground just as Hayden was preparing to stand up. Even sitting, he swayed slightly, and Hayden knew the man was trying not to pass out.

  Hayden was itching to get going while he was still sane enough to do so, but since Tanner had stuck with him this whole time he couldn’t very well leave the man behind or push him past his limits.

  “Do you need to rest for a few minutes?” he asked, hoping that the answer was ‘no’.

  “That would be helpful…if you think it would be alright?” his voice held the question of whether Hayden’s sanity could take the additional time in here.

  Lying, Hayden replied, “Sure, we can afford a few minutes. Try to rest up and hopefully your sight will return soon.”

  If there was one place he had no desire to rest in, it was a monster-infested swamp that was teeming with mosquitos, humidity, and who-knows-what else, but he tried to get comfortable anyway, not knowing how long it would be before their next break.

  Left alone with his thoughts, he began to think through all the things he had never accomplished in his life, and how disappointed everyone would be in him if he didn’t make it out of the schism alive. He could see Tess’s and Zane’s disappointed faces, the former breaking down in tears at an imagined funeral for him where they didn’t even have his body to bury. Master Asher was angry with him for giving up and accepting death, as though he’d had any say in the matter; Kilgore scolded him for not thinking to bring more weapons along; Sark threw a party to celebrate his death, and Master Laurren rolled his eyes and said, “That wasn’t the left I was talking about!”

  Furious at the lot of them, Hayden seethed, feeling sorry for himself. Who were they to ask so much of him, and then to judge him for not making it back? How dare Tess cry like she was the one who was hurting, when he was the one who had to come in here to die! And if he had to hear one more sarcastic word out of Zane’s mouth he swore he was going to—

  Whoa, Hayden shook his head, willing the bad thoughts away. He’d almost lost himself again, getting angry at his friends and the people who cared about him for no reason, thinking of them almost as enemies.

  I have to get out of here soon or I’m going to be useless when we get to the opening.

  “Do you think you’re able to walk?” he asked Tanner, hating himself for pushing the man when he’d just been chomped on by an alligator, but desperate to get out of this dismal place.

  Tanner blinked a few times and said, “I think so, if you can help me. I can see patches of color now, but not well enough to navigate on my own.”

  Relieved at his willingness to go on, Hayden helped the man to his feet and allowed Tanner to lean on him as they moved forward, walking slowly because the latter was limping on his bad leg.

  Hayden didn’t know how many hours they spent in that swamp, only that he was starving by the time they came to the end of it. They got lucky after the alligator and didn’t encounter anything more intimidating than a few large snakes, which mostly left them alone.

  Tanner’s vision had improved enough that he could see shapes and colors by now, and he leaned on Hayden a little less as they came through the other end of the swamp and picked up the ley lines again.

  “At least we’re past that part,” Hayden said out loud. “I hate humidity—it makes me feel like I’m drowning in the air. Maybe now we can actually start to dry off from our swim.”

  Tanner let out a weak chuckle, which was alarming because Hayden had hoped by now he’d be feeling better. Then he remembered that they hadn’t really eaten or drank anything since they found that abandoned house before the forest, unless he was counting swamp water. It felt like a lifetime ago that they found that little house and contemplated entering the woods, and he had no idea how far they had still to go.

  I’ve got terrible Foci and I’m starting to feel the distortion—no one else would even stand a chance in here.

  “Here, why don’t we stop for a few minutes and have something to eat and drink?” Hayden suggested, though there was nothing he wanted to do less than stop for any reason. Tanner opened his bag and pulled out a few soggy strips of that dried meat, splitting it with Hayden, who argued that he wasn’t that hungry and gave Tanner the bigger portion.

  He needs it more than I do.

  The meat tasted worse for having been in swamp water, but there was nothing to do but grimace and eat it anyway, passing the canteen of fresh water back and forth between them afterwards. Tanner seemed a little better after some food and water, and they got up and continued on their way, Hayden fighting off the voice in his head that told him he could make a lot better time if he left the man behind and went on alone.

  That’s not me, that’s the distortion…

  He kept repeating the phrase in his head to try and remind himself of it, but it was hard to separate the things he was feeling from their source, and it made him wonder if he really was that cowardly and determined to save himself. The pressure in his hands was terrible, and his Foci were burning halfway past his elbow, nearing his shoulder now. He didn’t want to know what kind of shape he would be in if it made it beyond his arms and had a clear shot at his brain.

  They were crossing a grassy field that was sparsely populated with trees, though most of them were dead and dry as though it was winter. Even the grass crunched and broke beneath their feet, and the air grew rapidly colder. Hayden was beginning to feel very tired again when the pack of hyenas attacked.

  There were three of them, and they came sprinting across the field, closing the distance rapidly. Hayden drew his remaining knife and buckler, wondering if he had survived all of those other horrors only to be eaten by hyenas after all. Tanner drew his bow and a few of his remaining arrows slowly enough that Hayden knew he was still very weak.

  Then there was nothing for Hayden to focus on but staying alive. The first hyena dove at him and he rolled beneath it, slashing upwar
ds with the knife and gutting it as it passed overhead.

  Another hyena was on top of him before he could prepare for it, and he knew a moment of terror before an arrow sprouted from the side of its neck and it fell off of him, followed by a scream from Tanner.

  Struggling back to his feet, Hayden’s heart raced as he saw Tanner being set upon by the last of the three hyenas. It looked like he had fired his bow at the last second to save Hayden at the expense of his own life, because it was far too late to save him by now. As soon as the blacksmith’s apprentice stopped struggling, the last of the hyenas turned to Hayden, who stood there dumbly, body aching and Foci burning, holding a knife uselessly in one hand as it charged towards him.

  Someone let out a hunting cry and came running past Hayden from behind, lunging at the hyena and tackling it to the ground, where he wrestled with it bare-handed. For a wild moment Hayden thought Harold had magically come through the quicksand alright, but this man was nowhere near as stout as the butcher had been.

  His unexpected savior snapped the hyena’s neck with one quick move and then stood up gracefully to brush the dirt from his pants, like he did this sort of thing every day.

  “You alright, kid?” he asked pleasantly, casting an appraising eye over his appearance.

  Hayden remained in a stupor, unable to answer right away. The stranger who had saved his life was tall, with classic good looks: sandy blond hair kept short, bright blue eyes, and a sculpted jawline. He was taller than Hayden and also broader in the shoulder, like the heroes in the stories that his mother had read him as a child—maybe thirty-something years old. He wore brown leather pants and a tunic of sorts, which upon closer inspection he had probably crafted from the hides of animals he’d killed, because he also had fur gloves tucked into a utility belt at his waist that was otherwise populated by knives of different sizes. A spear was strapped across his back—homemade by the look of it—and the winning smile he’d graced Hayden with was slipping off his face, replaced by a look of concern.