I know better.
Even just my short journey last night gives me a clue that it will not be as easy of a trek as it looks. Walking only minutes brought me to a bush of thorns and mud up to my ankles. How deep will it go?
Only one way to find out.
I climb down the boulder and march into the mucky expanse. There is no water here, certainly nothing I could drink. In fact, I know that’s going to be a major hurdle during my journey. There is only one place to the east that has drinkable freshwater, and it’s a breeding ground for creatures looking for something new to snack on. I have to portion the water I do have and deal with the extra weight it adds. I know I can survive several days without any water at all, but I don’t need a ticking timer added to my obstacles.
My boots grow heavier and heavier as I march through the mud, first sinking inches. Then, quickly, it’s up to my ankles. I hope this mud doesn’t have any magical properties because it’s already soaking through my socks to my skin. There’s nothing more I can do to get through it without using magic, which would bring attention that I don’t need, and I doubt it would help much as it is.
I press on as quickly as I can manage but still sink farther and farther into the muck. Sloshing through the smelly and thick sludge, I can no longer pick my feet out entirely and just push my way through. Will I be swimming in it soon?
I grit my teeth and keep walking. My toe catches on something hard, just enough to catch me off guard. I catch my balance and keep walking.
Then, something grips my ankle. It’s hard as stone, hidden beneath the thick muck at least a foot deep, clasped entirely around my ankle. I frantically shake it free and begin a high-step run. It’s barely successful, but I just want to get away from whatever had me. I’d have expected a creature inside water. Not in thick mud.
But this is the Schorchedlands.
My heart pounds harder. If it gets any deeper, I may be in trouble. Before I had been comforted that if the muck pond got too deep, I could just turn around. Now, my stomach twists at the thought that I may have some kind of creature following me. I’m past it now, but that only means if I turn back I may have to face it.
My leg stings, and I lift it high enough to notice blood trickling down into my sock. Shit.
I grit my teeth through another scrape on my shin as I slip even deeper. Then another.
My breathing grows heavier. I’m halfway through the muck field.
High above, birds of prey have appeared, circling in the red haze above me, ready and eager for a feast.
Panic is coursing through my veins, but I can’t freak out. I can fight whatever is beneath this mud, I tell myself.
I hope.
I’d so much rather have to face something massive and powerful but visible. This not knowing what’s right beside me has my anxiety pulsing to the extreme. That anxiety claws at my lungs, making it hard to breathe, and messes with my head. I power through, marching as fast as I can. Something else claws at my ankle, but I quickly pull it free. It’s not strong, whatever it is.
The birds screech over my head.
Then, I see something white rise from the mud out of the corner of my eye. A bone hand grasps my wrists and pulls. I yell out and rip it away only to lose my balance and tip forward. I catch myself, but my arm dips into the mud and is grabbed by several more skeleton hands.
Panic rises in my throat, and I scream. I grab my knife quickly and slash through the brittle bone.
An entire skeleton body leaps from the mud and tackles me, arms grasping my shoulders, clamping. Muck drips over my eyes, and I scream, twisting.
“Die,” it whispers in my ear.
My magic responds to my panic before I even think it through. Blinding white power explodes, sending both human bones and mud flying in all directions. I run forward as fast as I can manage, knowing I must conserve my magic but also knowing I have to do everything in my power to reach that imposing forest now just a few hundred feet away.
More skeletons rise from the mud as it settles back into place, nearly up to my waist. Bony hands grip my ankles, then my shins, then my thighs, pinning them in place. I have no choice but to use more magic or succumb to them.
They aren’t strong, but they’re working together now. And who knows how many there are? Thousands? Hundreds of thousands?
I send a quick blast to free my legs and keep a wall of light around me to halt any more attacks as I press on. Two hundred feet to go.
The birds sweep down toward me, and I shoot light from my palm to stop their descent. They screech as they avoid it and then continue their circle over my head, only much closer now. Anger and annoyance fill me, my terror dissipated.
I will not fall this easily!
My feet continue moving, plowing through the muck and continually pulling myself free from the living bones. I groan and slog through.
As the birds dive toward me a second time, I notice they are also skeletons with bits of mangled flesh hanging off their bones. I wait, pressing forward until the undead flock is only feet away, and I roar, throwing an explosion of magic at them. Several of their bodies explode into dust and sinew. A few are simply thrown back, landing into the muck and swallowed up. Three are left still flying, but they—wisely—stay back. Their high-pitched squawks send chills through me, but I continue my labored march.
One hundred feet left to go. My light barrier is staying strong, but I’m frustrated that I’ll have used so much of my magic during my first obstacle. There’s no telling what that forest will hold.
My energy grows thin when I finally reach the bank and—surprise, surprise—it’s a steep hill covered in slippery mud. It’s only about twenty feet high—just high enough I can’t jump. I have to climb.
I make one attempt only to prove what I already know—climbing it will be impossible. I leap up to the slippery slope, clawing and swiping, doing my very best. And I slip right back into the waiting embrace of the bones below.
I slice through the bone with a magic lit blade until I’m freed once again.
I turn and make a second attempt at scrambling up the steep bank. There isn’t anything to take a hold of. I slip right back down to their awaiting arms.
I fight my way out a second time, my breathing short and panicked. I need a plan B.
“All right,” I say through ragged breaths. “Who wants to help me out?”
I turn and face the small army of bones. I’m shocked at the sheer number standing before me. I was so focused on moving forward that I didn’t pay attention to their growing numbers.
They cackle at me, hissing laughter filling the air.
I’m not going to make it. It’s that thought that angers me because I cannot fail. I cannot succumb this easily. I won’t!
My anger fuels me.
It’s a trick I learned from Caelynn. Shut it all out and only focus on the bad because that’s what fuels your power. Passion of any kind. Love or hate. It’s all the same.
Well, today I’m running on pure hatred. I don’t know if it will work, but it’s my last play. If I’m going to go down like this, I’ll give it everything I have.
Caelynn
I drift in and out of restless sleep, nestled in the nook of a tree near the edge of the vine wall, and finally wake as the sun is rising over the hazy horizon. I shift, adjusting my bag full of so many random trinkets I stopped trying to keep track.
With an easy swing of my leg and a shove with my hands, I fall to the ground.
I spent some time last night looking for signs of Rev, and I quickly found some disturbance in the mud straight ahead that looked suspiciously like footprints. I followed them into a cluster of trees.
I found Rev snoozing beneath the tree in the middle of a small forest cluster. So, I made camp nearby.
The environment doesn’t look much different in the morning than it had at night. Had it been just me, I’d have begun my trek immediately. But Rev doesn’t see as well in the dark, and he was likely more intoxicated. Kari m
entioned him taking several shots before he left.
Is Rev still sleeping, I wonder? I’m not sure what to expect from him when he learns of my presence. Will he be angry that I followed him because he hates me now? Or will he be angry I sacrificed myself? Perhaps both.
Yes, I think both.
I slip into the shadows and sneak around to the tree he’d slept under only to find it empty. My stomach sinks. I can’t lose track of him. This place is bigger than I’d expected, and I don’t have the same level of instruction he does.
I know this place is square and the cure is in the center. I also know it gets more and more dangerous the closer to the center we travel. But that’s about it for my knowledge. I don’t even know where in the northern wall the Wicked Gate is. Do I travel straight south or do I have to curve east or west? Rev if my ticket to that information.
If I lose him, I entered this place for nothing. He’ll live or die on his own.
“Come.” A wispy voice drifts over the wind, curling around my head like a caress. “Look. See.”
I shiver, my stomach sinking a second time. Why does that feel familiar? “Who’s there?”
The voice chuckles, rumbling in the shadows between trees. I narrow my eyes. Whatever it is, their power is fairly strong.
“You don’t remember me?” the voice purrs.
I put my hand on my hips and consider. There was one time in the past I had a conversation with a wraith, and it certainly felt a bit like this.
“Are you a wraith?”
Another rumble of laughter. “So, you do remember,” he purrs again and smoke shifts, forming the silhouette of a man.
It’s strange to think it would be the same wraith as the one who invited me to the trials months ago. He was working for the queen of the Whisperwood at the time.
“You’re no longer working for the queen?”
“Oh, no,” he says as smoke drifts closer, the air around me chilling. “I still work for the queen. My job now is you.”
I blink. “Me?”
“You don’t think she’d just leave you to your own devices, do you?” One of the holes where is eyes should be shuts in a quick wink.
“So, what? You’ve been following me around?”
He smirks. “I’ve been watching these walls. And doing what I can to keep a certain someone from reaching you. His talons have quite a long reach, my dear. As I assume you’ve learned.”
My mouth goes dry. “Someone?”
“I believe you know just who I speak of.”
While I could come up with a few alternatives—the Luminescent Court King did send assassins for me just weeks ago—given what I’ve learned recently, well, it leaves me with little doubt. “I suppose I do.” If he’s protecting me against the Night Bringer, he’s a welcomed ally—a wraith, while not exactly trustworthy is like a puppy dog compared to that monster. If he’s lying, I don’t intend to let him bait me any more than he already has. Let him believe me blindly faithful.
“Are you also keeping an eye on Rev, then?”
He smiles. “He is of no consequence to me.” He places a hand on his hip, and with the other, he pretends to look at his nails. Wraiths do not have nails.
“Well, you should be. I’m here for him. If you wish to keep me alive, you should protect him as well.”
He chuckles. “So naive. In fact, it’s exactly the opposite. That foolish prince dying, opens the gates wide for you. While he lives, you are trapped here.”
I clench my jaw and smoothly pull an iron blade from its sheath at my waist. Thank you, Kari.
“Are you going to kill me?” His smile grows like he so enjoys my threat.
I widen my stance, knife held steady and my eyes locked onto the wraith before me. “If you are a threat to him, then I am a threat to you.”
“Ha! Very well then. Tell me, child, if I am not a threat to him, are you an ally?”
I narrow my eyes. “Perhaps.”
His smile fades into a half-grin. “Well, then, I should mention that your mate is in danger as we speak.”
I stand up straight. “What?”
“He took a less than ideal route through the bog of bones. He won’t survive it. No one ever has.” The wraith shrugs like it’s of no consequence to him.
“Where?” I yell.
He points over his shoulder past the boulder behind him. I break into action, rushing straight through the man-made of smoke and see, in the distance, a white light glowing softly surrounded by... skeletons.
“What the hell, Rev,” I mutter and begin a sprint forward.
A wave of magic slams into my back and I groan, falling forward.
“I said no one has ever survived it!” the wraith spits. “That would include foolish Shadow Court females.” He crosses his arms.
I stare out at the long expanse of bubbling mud. “Then, you go save him.”
“Me?’” The wraith rumbles in laughter. “No. No, I am not a hero, dear. Do not mistake me.”
“You want to be my ally—then, save him, you fool!” I watch in horror as Rev tries and fails to clamber up a slick wall of mud. I curse. The dead are right on him. He turns to face them.
“I already told you, if he dies, you are free to leave this place. That is in my best interest.”
“You said you wouldn’t be a threat to him!” Or implied it, at least.
“I will not actively take part in his death, child. But if he is so determined to put himself at risk, I will not stop it.”
I grit my teeth. “Then, you’ll have to watch me die trying to save him. I suppose you’re used to failure.” I stand and march forward.
“Wait!” the wraith calls, but I don’t. I won’t. I march into the muck, up to my shins in only moments. Damn, he traveled all that way in this shit? He’s got to be near a mile out. I’ll never make it in time without taking flight. The wraith passes in front of me. “Look! He’s fighting.”
“You’re in the way, idiot!” I keep pushing through the mud. I won’t let him die like this.
The wraith shifts so I can see Rev lit up like a freaking star. He dims and grabs skeletons one by one and tosses them into a pile behind him.
“Come to think of it, I’ve never seen a fae make it that far.”
“Of course, you’d say that now,” I mutter, continuing my march forward.
“Stop, foolish girl. You must realize you cannot reach him. He’ll either live or die by his own abilities.”
“Yes, but then you won’t have learned an important lesson.” I curl my lip. Refusing to help Rev was the wrong way to start a friendship, or whatever this creature thinks will become of us.
“What’s that? You’re a fool? You’ve made that quite clear.” He shifts awkwardly. I hadn’t realized wraiths had enough emotional capacity to feel nervous. I was clearly wrong.
“That Rev’s life is more important than mine.”
“Hush, child. You do not know what you speak of.”
More skeletons leap onto Rev’s back in the distance. My heart aches. God, why wasn’t I with him? He fights his way out, light flashing here and there. The details are hard to make out, but he seems to be using the bones at his feet to climb up and over the bank. His body slowly shifts upwards, despite the bones clawing to his back.
The moment he disappears over the edge I let out a dramatic breath in relief and stop walking.
“Very good,” the wraith’s rumbling voice says in obvious relief. “Now, turn around, you stubborn infant.”
“Stop insulting me, wraith,” I yell.
“Stop acting like a child, and I will. Maybe.”
Rev
My whole body aches as I fall to the flat and solid ground. The living bones still reach for me, clawing and moaning, but they don’t dare push past the boundary of their sewage prison.
That was almost my fate.
What a way to spend eternity in that pit of sewage. Picked apart by savage scavengers and left to nothing but bones. I twist to face the sky, which is
solid grey as if there were nothing beyond this place. No sun, no blue sky, no clouds, no future, no hope. For most of the beings here, that’s true. This is their final resting place. Eternal prison.
I sit up slowly. My head throbs worse than it did this morning. I dig for a vitality potion and swallow it quickly. I used a lot of magic to escape those creatures, much more than I should have, but with a little luck, I should have enough to pass through the next obstacle. I can’t afford to stop my journey for the day. After all, it’s not even midday yet. There is a lot of time left in the day.
You can do this, I coach myself. Be the hero your father never thought you could be.
I don’t dare consider what I will face inside the fog-filled forest staring at me. The tree trunks are a brisk white with dark patterns etched along the bark, the leaves are a dark blue. They’re not terrible to look upon, which honestly scares me more. Whatever is inside won’t catch me off guard this time.
I stand and attempt to brush some of the thick mud off of me, but it’s caked on. What I wouldn’t give for that freshwater source to clean up thoroughly. My physical energy is drained. My emotional energy is drained. But I force myself forward all the same.
I will do this because I must. Because I cannot fail.
Haunted groans drift from the rustling leaves, and I roll my eyes. “I get it, you’re terrifying.” I pull myself up and march into the trees.
Reveln. An inhuman voice tickles over my skin, and I shiver. Reveln! it calls again. Now, they know me. Great.
I follow the path into the forest, not daring to travel into the wild brush without guidance. There is always a way through every obstacle, as sadistic and impossible as they seem. The Schorchedlands are meant to test us in the cruelest possible way. Everything is made to trip me up, to capture me, strangle me, and make me think it’s hopeless, but it will never be impossible. Which means as long as I don’t let them trick me off the path, I can make it through the forest relatively unscathed.
I keep that in the back of my mind at all times. There is a path to the center of these lands, and I will find it.
Curse of Thorns (Wicked Fae Book 2) Page 13