by BJ Hanlon
Edin turned back toward the room. There were no windows, nothing to climb out of, there were only the passageways. The right side was a no-no. That was obvious, he turned toward the other two.
A moment later, a light green nimbus floated through the far one. It took on the shape of a man… or an elf. Edin drew his sword.
“Hey,” he called out at it. With Arianne in trouble, he no longer feared anything inside. He took off after it. The apparition was fleetfooted as he ran down the straight and narrow hall. Then the apparition floated through a solid door as if it weren’t there.
Edin reached for it and pulled. The door swung open with ease and he was at a winding stairwell. They climbed, the ghost always about twenty feet in front of him, or above him as it were.
He was huffing and probably climbed two hundred stairs by the time he reached another closed door. Edin threw it open and saw before him the apparition.
It stopped him, seizing his body still. The apparition was familiar to him, like the elf’s summons from Tor’s cellar. It was the elf. He opened his mouth and Edin heard the words.
The swamps of the old
Will spread like weeds
Out will come the Fair
Like water from reeds
Edin knew these words. They clicked into place like the button on a highborn man’s trousers. The prophecy.
He saw them as much as heard them; they were like any of his visions but the elf did not leave after he spoke. He just stared at Edin, expecting something. Edin cared only about one thing at that moment. Arianne.
“I need to get out of here,” Edin said. The man raised an arm and the walls shimmered out of existence. Suddenly, he was out in the open, standing on a round platform looking out over the entire swamp. It was vast and went for miles to the north, south, and east before being lost beyond the horizon.
The west though, it ended at a cliff yet some distance away. He could see a waterfall coming down but couldn’t see the source as it was too high.
The swamp was covered in the yellowish fog and something told him it was rising, trying to overtake the cliff and the waterfall and the world.
The swamps of the old will spread like weeds... Edin swallowed. Was there something more than the dematian threat? Did the land itself threaten to overtake man?
He heard a pounding and a scream from below. His name was called and he ran toward the edge.
Suddenly, he felt dizzy and sick standing high above the swamp. Below, nearly two hundred feet, was the impenetrable fog.
“Arianne!” he yelled.
Her reply was soft and cautious.
“I’m up here,” Edin reached out a hand and tried to summon the ethereal ball. It sputtered into existence but then shone. Not as brightly as normal, but it worked. His power was still being dampened, but he had to go. Edin adjusted the pack and took a few steps back. He glanced at the elf. “What do I do?”
“You complete destiny,” the voice said in his head. “Then you will know.”
“Good enough,” Edin secured the sword in the scabbard, took a few steps back, ran forward and leapt.
7
There’s no place like Northland
He was weightless and nearly flying for a moment. He felt the wind flowing around his body. Then, he dropped and fast.
Edin felt his talent and the wind gusts from below. For a moment, there was nothing. Then it buffeted him somewhat, though still far too fast to not be painful. Too fast to live.
Barely ten seconds went by when he was in the fog. He yelled and tried to call a larger, stronger gust to him.
He couldn’t slow, his talent wasn’t strong enough. Edin’s heart was in his throat. He was going to splatter on the ground like a watermelon flung from a roof.
Suddenly, his body jerked. Something caught him. A pillow of wind and he slowed and tapped down on the ground a few yards before the door.
Arianne ran up to him and slapped him on the chest. “Dumb… dumb… dumb.”
After catching his breath he said “where is Fokill?”
“Gone,” Arianne said. “He took the boat and disappeared...”
Edin grimaced as he looked out at the dreary and creepy swamp beyond the walls of the tower.
“He went insane. There was something wild and strange as if the tower changed him into an animal. That was the look he had, a cornered animal.”
Edin squeezed her arm.
“I wasn’t going to leave you. That’s what he wanted at first, leave you so… he and I could be together. Never, I told him. That was when he attacked.”
“Did he hurt you?”
She was favoring her left leg slightly but shook her head. “I stabbed him with an arrow in the arm.”
Her bow was on the ground near the door, the arrows scattered about from the quiver as if they’d been taken by a tornado.
Arianne had a hand pressed to her hip and Edin saw blood.
“You are hurt,” he said. “Let me try to heal you.”
“You’re terrible with spells.”
“And many other things I’m sure,” Edin said. He helped her down and put his hands over her leg. He spoke the word, ‘eletanto,’ and felt his hands warm. Beyond them, the blood slowed and then stopped evacuating.
She smiled. “You’re getting better.”
“I know. I’ll grab the gear, you rest.”
For a few minutes he picked up the arrows and her bow, their cloaks were gone, left in some mirage in the tower. He stood on the edge of the swamp and looked out at the still-brown water. He didn’t know how deep it’d be or what lurked beneath the surface.
“Just us again,” Arianne sighed as she laced her fingers into his.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way…” Edin stepped off and his leg dropped into the water almost a foot before he felt the muck beneath. “It’s not that deep,” Edin said. He took another step and something hard caught his foot and he fell forward splashing in.
She was holding back a laugh when he pulled himself out of the muck. “Very graceful.”
“Thank you.” Edin spat the water out and brushed mud and whatever else that had caked his hands onto his trousers. “Watch your step and hold on to me.”
It was cold and quiet and Edin was certain things were watching. The hairs on his neck didn’t just stand, they saluted and stayed there.
The swamp’s depth changed from a few inches to a couple of feet, sometimes even reaching his hips. They headed in the direction he remembered. Toward the cliff.
After a while, it was growing dark again and the critters were starting to come out of whatever dark place they resided during the day.
There was no solid ground and the trees, covered in a scraggly and creepy fungus, were too thin and frail to climb.
He was growing tired, his mind wandering to something, food maybe, sleep possibly, he couldn’t even be certain. Then Edin felt something slither past his foot and nearly leapt from the water. It felt like a snake.
“I hate snakes,” Edin winced.
“You’re not the only one,” she whispered back with drowsiness in her voice. “Why do you say that?” she asked, her voice rising.
“No reason…” It was nearly impossible to see even with the firelight. His legs were rubbery and felt like they were going to give out like a tree after many thwacks with an axe.
They slithered on, not knowing where or if they could stop.
Edin blinked and something appeared. It was rising out of the mists just to the right. At first he thought of a turtle shell but then saw it looked almost like a small island. “There…” he croaked and pulled Arianne toward it.
Edin checked it at first. Solid. He slowly climbed a steep embankment until they were a foot or so out of the muck. The earth was spongy and covered in a thin gray moss. But it was land. An island covered in the crooked trees with their spiny fingers reaching this way and that. A few feet to the right, he saw a wide and deep divot that headed into the water like a child’s slide.
> Edin took a step forward but Arianne gripped his arm.
“Remember the ground that isn’t ground,” she whispered. “Quicksand.”
They moved carefully forward, further into the center of the small plot. After only about ten paces, he could see it dropping back into the swamp. They traced their steps toward the center of the island, near the top of the sand slide. He tested the ground and found it solid enough.
Edin hacked some wood and pilled it high. They started a blaze huddled close. The smoke gave off a fragrant rotting odor that stung the eyes. They ate bits of jerky and sat by the fire. Despite his exhaustion, Edin let Arianne sleep. At least one of them needed to keep watch.
As the night wore on, the sounds of animals grew louder. Behind him, he heard something crashing into the water with a large splash. Bats squealed, snakes hissed. That, as much as anything, kept him awake.
Sometime later, he happened to look into the swamp water and saw three sets of glowing yellow eyes that didn’t blink.
Edin held his sword as the hairs on his neck continued their salute. There was something lurking there, in the heavy swamp, something bad.
In her sleep, Arianne spoke, but it was impossible to understand. Her lips moved, her breath was fleeting and for a moment, he thought he saw the cold breath escaping.
Edin’s attention slowly began to fade. He was able to stay awake, just barely, and the world took on a blurry quality as if he were looking through water. More than once, he caught himself falling and shook awake.
Slowly, the gray night faded to the sickly yellow. Edin drank from the waterskin and rubbed his hands in the warmth of the fire. A few minutes later, Arianne began to stir.
She raised her head and looked around. “It’s morning already?”
“Yes,” Edin said though it came out barely half spoken.
“Did you sleep?”
Edin shook his head. “We should get moving.”
“Not until we eat…” She looked at him warily. “And you need to sleep.”
“Not here,” he said. His hands fumbled with the straps. They just didn’t want to work. She took over and pulled a jar of fruit from it. He couldn’t tell what they were and the taste was bland.
Edin slowly stood and stretched, his lower back and butt were sore from sitting. He did want to take Arianne’s offer to sleep. Oh gods, did he want to. But not here. Never here.
After a bit of a debate, they trudged back into the water, wading through the murk and muck. It felt like a dream, his body so tired and weak that he could barely feel his limbs. Edin tried splashing water on his face but that did little to rouse him. They continued for hours heading in the direction he hoped was west. Everything was slow going. His feet felt heavy and the number of obstacles unseen beneath the surface seemed to multiply ten-fold.
He was barely thinking; his senses dulled the world to a muted landscape. Or was it a waterscape?
Edin’s toes felt wrinkly in the sloshed boots and the pack had grown heavier.
It didn’t register to Edin when something slithered past his leg. The water was thigh high now and seemed to be dropping slowly.
“Edin?” Arianne said, her voice poised with terror. They were a few feet from a tall scrub tree, completely void of any leaves. “Something is moving.”
Then he noticed it, small waves rippling about two yards away and coming directly toward him. Something brushed his leg again and on top of the water, was a long scaly shape.
He woke as if from a bad dream. “The tree, climb,” Edin commanded. He watched Arianne scramble as the thick body coiled around his thighs.
A moment later, it constricted, like a belt being cinched. His sword was trapped between his leg and the scaly beast and with a quick jerk, he fell like a tree in the forest. Or the swamp, if trees ever fell here. The water enveloped him.
He heard something, a shout before the thing began shaking him like a violent storm. Edin was spun and the body twisted further around him climbing up him to his waist.
The murky yellowish water gave him only a few inches of visibility and he wished it didn’t show that much.
In front of his face, he saw two serpent eyes and a pair of fangs that were nearly six inches long. On instinct, he craned his head sideways and felt a white searing pain in his shoulder.
Edin screamed and swallowed water, water he was certain flowed from the underworld. His legs were squeezed further and he felt as if the bones would shatter. The body squirmed up and clenched his waist, then his stomach.
It was trying to squeeze the life out of him.
Then there was a man’s voice and somewhere, he heard a splash. Something crashing down into the water like a boulder.
The jaw released and he felt the tightness loosen then disappear. In the murk, he caught the tail of a long serpent flow past his face.
Something yanked him up from the water and he gasped for breath. His lungs were laden with water. Black circles hung around his vision.
Then he faded.
It was quiet when he woke but he felt nearly dry. Edin opened heavy eyes and blinked up at a wall of vegetation growing from a dark cliff that disappeared into fog above his head.
Edin groaned and shifted, pain wracked his shoulder and it felt stiff. He was dry though. That was good and there was heat from a fire lapping at his torso.
A gurgling feeling came over his stomach. His chest and lungs began to convulse. He twisted to his side and coughed. Mucus-like water emerged from his mouth and burned his throat. He caught barely a glimpse of a leg where he was throwing up and then heard a shriek.
“Edin!”
It was Arianne, she moved quickly and he fell face first into the dirt. Somewhere around him, he heard a soft laugh and then hands pulled him to his back again.
Edin blinked and saw Dorset standing above him, a worried look on his face.
“He’ll be fine,” Berka said from somewhere.
Edin was barely able to lift his head but he saw his companions sitting around a small campfire. There was a pinkish, white meat roasting over it on skewers. The smell churned his stomach.
He didn’t see Yechill or Henny, but El and her grandparents were still with them. They were tense and huddled together near a small overhang in the cliff. Berka was next to the young woman with the greatsword lying on the turf in front of him.
“What happened?” Edin asked. “What was that?”
“A giant serpent, tore up your arm pretty well,” Dorset explained.
“Don’t worry, I got him,” Berka called.
Edin remembered the splash and the voices. “You jumped in?”
Berka nodded.
“I thought he was going to kill you,” Arianne said.
“Por Fen know where to put their blades,” Berka said. “We don’t miss.”
“Thanks,” Edin said.
“Just don’t tell anyone, okay?” There was a smile on his face as he adjusted his seat. The girl next to him was looking at him with a bit of awe.
“How’d you guys find us?”
“We got to the cliff last night. The fog grew far too thick to search when you were lost,” Dorset said. “Then, it seemed to lessen this morning and we went in search of our fearless leader.”
“Fokill? Has he showed up?”
Dorset shook his head. “Yechill and Henny are out looking for him still.”
“They know about…”
“Arianne told us what happened. The tower and what he did. He was under the influence of the magic there.”
Edin nodded. It may have influenced him, but Edin was sure Fokill harbored some of those desires. Women like Arianne tended to make men go mad.
“The gator should be ready,” Berka said. “It’s a bit of a delicacy though I’m not completely sold on the meat.” He took off the skewer and set it in the grass and began cutting it up. “We went hunting for these in Carrow some months back.”
Edin wasn’t hungry but Arianne forced him to eat. It tasted as if he were eati
ng an aquatic chicken. But his taste buds may have been jumbled from the vomit.
“How long have Henny and Yechill been gone?”
“Since we brought you back, you were only about a half mile from this spot,” Dorset said, “and you were heading the right way.”
“He’s just like a bird,” Arianne said. “With that long beak and sense of direction.” They all laughed and Arianne leaned in closer to him. “I’m kidding, you don’t have a big nose, but your butt is getting huge.”
“Thank you.”
Edin rested again, despite sleeping, or more aptly, passing out from nearly drowning to death, he was exhausted.
The night came and with it, the sounds. Creepy and deadly. How many more giant serpents were out there? How many gators or other deadly things lived here?
This was what the world would look like if the prophecy came true. There’d be no place for man anywhere.
Arianne and he lost their bedroll thanks to Fokill, and their cloaks thanks to that magical tower, so they had to curl up next to the fire. At least it was warm here.
The next morning Yechill and Henny returned though they had found no sign of Fokill and the rest of the supplies. Dorset conversed as best as he could with Yechill.
The tan-skinned warrior was sullen but proud. From what Dorset had translated, he’d said that he will go on until their task is complete. Then he will moan his brother. Mourn might have been a better word but maybe it was a translation issue.
Edin also had a feeling he’d see Fokill again.
Dorset brought Edin aside as they were packing up. “There is a trail to the south of here, near the waterfall.”
“Far?”
Dorset shook his head and Edin wondered why his friend brought him to the edge of the camp. “He’s uneasy,” Dorset said nodding to Yechill. “The swamps never reached this far west nor as far east as they did. The Foci had hunted here for generations.”
It sent a shiver up his spine and confirmed the prophesy. Edin glanced up but couldn’t see the top of the wall. The fog was climbing. That was another thing he knew.