Shifters After Dark Box Set

by S M Reine et al.

  Lars held up his hand and dismounted. “We should walk the horses. Keep them from getting overheated.”

  “No one seems concerned about keeping me from overheating.”

  “Are you sure you were trained to be a soldier?” Lars asked. “Because right now…”

  Aein suddenly stopped, her head swiveling over her shoulder. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” asked Lars, looking where she was focused.

  Fingers of fog were coming through the forest, wrapping themselves around the trees, swallowing up the landscape wherever they touched.

  “In the fog there,” said Aein quietly. She unsheathed her sword as she peered into the gray.

  Lars began laughing. “Put up your sword, Aein. That’s what I was talking about.”

  “What?” she asked sharply.

  He pointed. “The fog. It does things to the mind. I promise you that there is nothing there except confusion.”

  “But I heard something,” she insisted.

  “You and every sentry ever to walk the border. The fog consumes sounds. It consumes… thoughts. I don’t know how to describe it.” He stared at the fog. “It’ll reach us eventually. We should try to keep ahead of it. As little exposure to that stuff as possible is always a good idea.”

  Aein sheathed her sword, trusting her partner. But she kept an eye on the grey mist. As they stepped into the canopy of the swamp’s trees, the fog seemed to follow them. It never completely engulfed them. Once or twice, it seemed to reach out and lick her heel, leaving her with a vague sense of disquiet and shivers up her back.

  “There’s the spot,” said Lars, leading the way.

  In the middle of swamp, the log path ran beside a small island in the water. The sun seemed to shine through. The grass seemed greener. There was a clearing surrounded by berry bushes. Aein’s horse seemed just as happy as she was for the break. She unhitched the wagon so they could switch the load when they headed out. She took her quiver and bow off her back and placed them safely on the cart. She reached her arms over her head and then fell gratefully to the ground, letting her muscles unknot.

  “Are you sure that we have to keep going?” she asked. “We could just stay here for the rest of the day.”

  Lars pushed her with his toe. “Come on, Aein. You’re scaring off the wildlife. I was going to see if I could bag us a frog or something for dinner.”

  “Go!” Aein said, waving him away. “Keep your frogs to yourself! I’ll be here… protecting our stuff from bandits...”

  Lars headed through the bushes, threatening her over his shoulder. “If I hit anything, I’m going to eat it all by myself! You hear me? All by myself!”

  She smiled, enjoying the sensation of the sun on her face. She let her head fall to the side and her glance fell upon the bushes. At once she was on her feet. She was almost certain she knew these berries. They looked like the blueberries Cook Bolstad served in the summertime. She picked one. She nibbled the smallest bit of one to test to see if it left her mouth feeling numb or her stomach upset. It didn’t taste exactly the same, but it was good. She waited a couple minutes, and when she didn’t fall over dead, she ate a couple more.

  “Don’t eat those!” shouted Lars, coming back into the clearing with some game.

  “They’re fine!” she replied, holding them out to him to try.

  “Don’t come crawling to me tonight when your belly has cramped up and you feel like your insides might evacuate your body from either end.”

  “You’re such a poet, Lars.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said. He pulled back from her, as if disgusted. “Ugh. Your teeth and tongue are stained purple.”

  “Come give us a kiss,” Aein laughed, stretching her stained palms towards him and grinning wildly so he could get a good look at her teeth.

  “Not for the wide world,” he replied. “You’ll be vomiting before nightfall.”

  Aein took another handful and stored them in her pouch for later. The birds seemed to have gotten to most of the bramble, but there was enough for an afternoon snack. “You’re going to be jealous when I’m perfectly fine and you didn’t even try one.”

  “I’ll risk it,” he said. He looked up at the sky. “We should get moving again. We need to reach the rendezvous before nightfall.”

  She shielded her eyes to get a good look at where the sun was when suddenly she shouted. “Wait! We have to stop for just a moment!”

  “What is it?”

  “Cook Bolstad asked me to gather him some ingredients. And I just spotted what he was looking for.”

  “And what was he looking for?”

  “Those!” she replied, pointing up at a cluster of mushrooms growing out of the bark of the tree. They had black caps with tan flakes. She was sure it was the same ones in the picture. She walked over to the base of the tree. The mushrooms were hanging just beneath the branch like little bats.

  “It’s like the tree has armpit hair,” Lars stated.

  “Shut up,” she replied. “Want to give me a hand?”

  Lars came over and laced his fingers together for her to stand in. Her fingers found hold in the tree’s rough and bumpy bark. “I do not believe being your own personal step ladder was mentioned in border duties,” he stated.

  She was able to grab a hold of a thick branch and pull herself up.

  “Those might go bad before you get them home,” Lars pointed out. “You could just leave them and we could pick them up on the way back.”

  “They might not be here when we come back,” said Aein as she took the bag and her knife from her belt and began scraping. “If I can gather him some rare mushrooms for the most important feast he will ever cook in his lifetime, well… it seems an easy way to make sure we get all the choice cuts at the dining table from here to eternity.”

  “You make sure to tell him I helped you!” Lars said, changing his tune. “You wouldn’t have even been able to reach them if I wasn’t here.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Aein called back. “I’ll make sure he’s made aware.” She dropped the bag and he caught it before it hit the ground. By the time she had climbed down, he had pulled one of the mushrooms out and was nibbling it.

  “Put that back!” she shouted in a panic.

  “What? Just think if these are the most special mushrooms in the territory, we should at least get to taste test them or something.”

  Aein snatched it from his hand and thrust the mushroom back into the bag. “Cook Bolstad said not to until he confirmed they were the right ones. Wouldn’t want to accidentally kill you.”

  “You’re not even sure those are the right ones?” Lars began wiping his tongue on the back of his hand. “And you let me sit there licking that thing?”

  “Double rations for me, my friend.”

  “Very funny,” he replied, walking back over to the horse.

  Aein put the bag into the wagon and secured it safely before mounting. They continued on for what seemed like hours. The fog surrounded them but did not cross onto the walkway. Strange bird cries filled the air. Loud insects hummed and darted across their path. Frogs sang, their sound interrupted occasionally by a loud splash in the water.

  And this was just day one, Aein thought.

  Without a clear view of the sun, there was no way of gauging time’s passage. The only sign she had that the day might be at an end was when the air became cooler.

  “So, this becomes easier, right?” Aein asked as a strange lizard slithered across the boards. “You get used to it?”

  “No,” replied Lars.

  The platform walkway ended on a large hill. Aein was so concerned with the fog around them, she would not have even noticed it if her horse’s footsteps had not changed.

  “We’re here,” announced Lars. He jumped off his horse and cupped his hand to his mouth. “Johan? Whalter? Your relief has arrived!” But there was no response. Lars shook his head and led his horse to the middle of the camp, taking off his halter and saddle
. There were logs placed around a large fire pit. Beyond the pit were several wooden shacks. They looked just big enough to house a single person lying down. “The last vestiges of civilization, Aein. Take your pick, for tomorrow we sleep in our cart.”

  She picked one on the opposite side of the pit. She opened up the door. There was a roped bed frame. No rocks, no crawling insects. Just a few heavy blankets, Aein thought, and it would feel better than a feather bed.

  She stepped out and began taking off her horse’s halter and saddle. Lars already had the supply wagon resting tidily to one side. The fog, for whatever reason, pooled around this hill, but it did not venture into their campsite.

  “That is so weird,” she said, pointing at the gray.

  “It’s got a mind of its own,” said Lars ruefully.

  “Maybe Johan and Whalter would prefer to stay and we can head back to the stronghold?” Aein suggested hopefully.

  Lars was so tired, he did not even bother to respond.

  As the fog continued to swirl around the hill, she thought to herself, Not a chance.

  Chapter Three

  The evening wore on, but for the first time since their journey began, their conversation was stilted. Every shadow in the swamp beyond their hill seemed to hold some sort of menace. The summer sun was still over the horizon when Lars turned to Aein and said, “Sleep while you can. It is going to be a long night.” He looked out into the fog. “I may need to wake you before your shift.”

  She nodded in understanding, feeling that same tension in the air. There was something out there. “I could stay awake with you,” she offered.

  But Lars turned her down. “One of us needs to be rested.”

  She let him win this one time. She climbed into her little bed in her little shack, barred the door, and closed her eyes. It seemed one minute she was awake, and then the next it was morning and she was waking up. Her heart was pounding. Panic overwhelmed her. Had she heard something or was it just a dream? She leapt out of her bed and pushed the wooden door open a crack. The fog had rolled in and the campfire was dead. The entire world was nothing but grey mist in the morning light.

  “Lars?” she called. There was no response. “Lars?” she called again.

  “AEIN!” he called. “Where are you?”

  “HERE!” she cried back.

  She heard splashing and then his silhouette stepped through the grey and into her sight. He looked dirty and tired and exhausted. He fell to the ground and rolled onto his back. He was still wearing his chainmail and armor from the night before.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked, running over to him and kneeling by his side.

  He waved her off. He pointed at the campfire. “The fog came in with the twilight and smothered the fire. I couldn’t see anything. I called and called, but the fog ate all the sound.”

  She felt her throat tighten. “I was only steps away.”

  He looked at her. “I tried to get to the shacks, but the fog… it twisted everything around. I crawled on the ground, trying to find you, but…”

  “…the fog,” Aein finished for him. “It did not wish you to find me.”

  He ran his hand over his eyes. “Twenty-nine more days of this,” said Lars. “Just twenty-nine more days and we get to go home.”

  Aein couldn’t believe how stupid she was to ever have looked at this as an adventure. Though the fog was backing away now, she wanted to scream at it, yell at it.

  “And you’ve already done this twice this year,” she said.

  He nodded. He didn’t need to say anything more.

  “I’ll cook us some breakfast while you rest,” she told him, forcing a cheerful tone into her voice. “Something warm and wonderful that will remind us of the stronghold.”

  He squeezed her hand and then stood, shuffling over to the shack. “Keep on the lookout for Johan and Whalter,” he said. “Sometimes your days get mixed up here on the border, but they should be here.”

  Aein pulled a pan out of the wagon and dug around for anything to dress up their meal besides hardtack and cheese. It was then the fog parted and Aein saw the body.

  The shape was lying on the ground, twisted unnaturally.

  The pan fell out of her hand.

  It was Johan. Only not Johan. There was someone else’s head beside him. Whalter. Their two patrols, the ones they were supposed to relieve. The two men that were supposed to be going home. Only, they had already gone home. Their throats had been ripped out. Body parts were not attached to where they should be.

  Lars called from across the campground. “Aein?”

  She was unable to make a sound. Her lips were unable to form the words. There was dried blood all over the ground. It looked like they had tried to climb into the cart Aein and Lars had pulled just yesterday. There was a handprint on the wood.

  “Oh gods,” Aein whispered. “Oh gods!”

  Lars was suddenly beside her. His sunburned face paled as shock washed over him. “Pull yourself together,” he said, but she knew the command was directed at himself even more than it was directed at her.

  Aein’s mind reeled. Johan and Whalter had tried to come to the campground last night. They had touched the wagon. What animal had the fog been hiding? How close had Lars come to death as he wandered lost in the swamp? How close had she come to death as she lay asleep in the shack? What other horrors were in the fog?

  Lars crouched down for a closer look at their wounds. “They were attacked by some animal,” said Lars. “They must have come out hunting and ran into a swamp bear or a… wild boar… or… something.”

  Aein did not know how to tell what sort of an animal could create the gashes they were looking at, but she knew it was not a bear or a boar. Children were told stories of the creatures in this swamp. There had been one, a real one, in their camp. It had ended these two men. The stories were true.

  “Oh gods,” she whispered again.

  Lars rose and began unloading the cart. He started dividing up all the goods, placing Aein’s belongings and his belongings in separate piles.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “They were loyal subjects of the Lord Protector. We must build a pyre and give them proper respects before any other animals smell them. And then you must return to the stronghold to tell their families and ask Lord Arnkell to send reinforcements,” he informed her with cold practicality.

  “I think you mean that ‘we’ need to return home to tell their families,” she clarified.

  “I know what I said.”

  She shook her head, dismissing him. “I can’t leave you here alone. Look at them! Two men, here together, couldn’t fend off these beasts. How the hell do you think you’re going to be okay just…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. The sight which filled her eyes would not allow her.

  “Are you going to help me move them?” asked Lars, pretending as if he hadn’t even heard her protests.

  Aein came over and grabbed the leg and stump of one of the men. She tried not to gag. His body was still warm. The blood was still relatively fresh. She thought back to the moment when she woke in a panic. She had not had a single dream the entire night, had not heard a single sound, but had woken with the sun knowing something was wrong. Was that when it happened? Was the creature still near?

  “Please come with me,” she begged.

  “I cannot,” said Lars.

  “Yes, yes, you can.”

  Lars and Aein dropped the body with as much dignity as they could muster beside the fire.

  “You’re right. It was just wild animals,” said Aein, trying to convince herself as much as Lars. “It is not worth splitting up. It was just animals and you and I should remain at our post until our month is up. We will tell their families when we return.”

  Lars wiped his forehead, leaving a streak of red across his pink and freckled face. “You know it wasn’t animals, Aein.” He walked over to the next body and she followed after. “These… The jaws which created these bites…
they are…” He stopped himself. “This is how it starts. It is how everything on the boundary starts. I need you to go to the stronghold and let Lord Arnkell know.”

  Tears pricked in her eyes, the shock fading into anger and frustration. “Well, if you think there is some sort of imminent threat, I can’t very well leave you here by yourself to face it alone.” She looked up at him, this man who had become her friend, this man whom she might never see again.

  “Aein, I am the senior officer.”

  “Then… you go and I’ll stay,” she said, trying to get him to understand the ridiculousness of him insisting upon staying alone. Perhaps if he thought about what a bad idea it would be to leave her here all alone, he would rethink. But it did not work.

  “You would be dead within the hour.” He picked up the next body, keeping himself focused on the task. Aein grabbed the end of the torso. They would have to come back for the legs. “I have been here on the border many times before. I can hold it until you get back with reinforcements.”

  “That will be at least a month,” she said.

  Lars’s jaw tensed and released. His eyes became distant. Aein knew he was thinking of what it meant to spend all that time on the border alone. It wasn’t enough, though. He shook his head and said, “I have to stay.”

  “What can one person do against creatures like this?” she argued as they put the body down. The evidence of what fate awaited him was right in front of them.

  “I promise I will stay here in the camp. I won’t go wandering around into the sections of the swamp where a person is liable to get hurt.”

  “But how can you even imagine that I am going to be safe traveling by myself back to the castle? I’m liable to get lost the moment the first fog rolls in.”

  “Just give your horse his head. He’ll see you back.”

  “I can’t do this, Lars.”

  He took her face in his hands, willing her to understand. “I cannot leave this post. Someone always has to be here. It is why they send two of us. In case something happens. Something like this.”

  “But what if something happens to you…”