Chapter 15 Lost in the Swamp
A piercing trumpet blast suddenly rang out through the stillness, echoing through the trees and growing louder by the second.
The soldiers outside ran quickly toward the sound.
A distant voice rose, strained and urgent,
"Attack on the Eastern Gate! Report for battle!"
The thunder of hooves faded as the soldiers vanished into the distance. Inside, the group held their breath, paralyzed by the sudden silence. Then, Zephyrah leapt to her feet and shouted,
"Run!"
They burst through the door and tore across the clearing, their hearts pounding in their chests. In wild haste, they dragged two canoes into the churning river. The Dissolver and Zephyrah clambered into one, Gareth and Rowena into the other.
They paddled and splashed as they followed the current, not daring to look back until the shack was swallowed by the dense forest.
They continued down the river, bumping into rocks, roots, and debris in the stark darkness. They struggled the entire night, blindly following the rivers path.
When the sunlight finally returned, they were exhausted and sore, but they still could not stop. The farther they travelled, the safer they felt, but they knew they would not be safe until they left the forest completely.
Rowena's voice was hoarse with fatigue. "Zephyrah, where does this river lead? Where are we going?"
Zephyrah's gaze stayed fixed on the shifting water. Her voice was low and cautious. "The river empties into the Southern Ocean. If we keep to the shoreline, we'll reach Tide Gate—if that's still where you mean to go."
"It is." Rowena said, her eyes narrowing on the fauna.
There was something about Zephyrah's posture and expression that struck Rowena as odd.
She was hiding something.
Finally, by evening, they saw the sign they had been looking for. The gargantuan trees all around them began to shrink significantly, until they were more ordinary in size.
They finally made it out of the Great Forest.
The exhausted travelers wanted to rest, but there was another problem. The river had slowed, to a crawl and its banks dissolved into a labyrinth of twisting channels. All around them, the trees were thinning and dry land disappeared, turning into soggy marshes.
The sun was beginning to set. They knew they had to find a place to camp soon.
At last, a scrap of high ground emerged.
It was a muddy, root-choked island rising above the marsh.
They hauled the canoes ashore, tying them to the gnarled limbs of a mangrove, and staggered up the slippery slope.
Their bodies were so sore and stiff that they barely made it up the slick, weedy hill.
They threw together a quick campsite and tried to light a fire, but everything around them in the marsh was damp and the tinder would not ignite.
Zephyrah even tried, attempting to create a small flame in her palm as she had done many times before, but she was so exhausted, she could not even manage a spark.
Finally, they gave up and resolved to sleep in the dark.
Not long after they had laid down, Rowena awoke to the sound of a droning melody. She looked around and noticed Zephyrah sitting by the edge of the water, humming to herself in the darkness.
Rowena approached softly, whispering, "Zephyrah? Are you alright?"
Zephyrah jolted, and looked back. She smiled slightly when she saw Rowena standing beside her.
Zephyrah blinked and forced a wry smile. "I'm fine. Did I wake you?"
"It's alright," Rowena murmured, settling beside her. "You should try to rest. Aren't you exhausted?"
Zephyrah gaze dropped the still water. Her eyes were puffy like she'd been crying.
"I couldn't sleep. I was just thinking..." She murmured sadly.
"Is it Jhas'tir?" Rowena asked gently, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Zephyrah turned, startled. "How did you know?"
Rowena hesitated, then shrugged. "It's obvious you care about him. Anyone can see it."
Zephyrah's lips trembled. "You're right. I do. And now... it feels like I've abandoned him."
"Can't you see him? In your visions?"
Zephyrah's shoulders slumped. "Sometimes. But right now, everything is uncertain. I've tried, but his future is a maze—too many paths, nothing certain."
Rowena frowned. "How can that be?"
"The future shifts like the wind. I catch glimpses—fragments of what might be. Some are hopeful, others... not. When a vision is clear and steady, that's when I know it's truly possible."
A chill went down Rowena's spine as she thought about the Stag's clear and vivid vision. She pushed her unease to the back of her mind and forced herself to focus on the conversation at hand.
Rowena placed a gentle hand on Zephyrah's shoulder. "That means there's still hope, doesn't it?"
Zephyrah smiled faintly, fighting back tears.
"Yes, you're right. It's just... I've known Jhas'tir for most of my life.
I was just a common girl until the council learned of my visions.
They brought me to court, raised me among the noble children.
He and I shared lessons and we became fast friends.
We spent hours together, sneaking around the elven city, breaking into the forbidden archives and reading about the Ancient Power.
I always looked out for him—protected him from the council's venom—and he always defended me in return.
But my feelings for him... they're more than friendship.
I—I love him. And the thought of losing him—" She broke off, swallowing a sob.
"I'm so sorry, Zephyrah." Rowena whispered, her own heart aching with empathy.
Zephyrah gazed at her, voice trembling. "At least you have the one you love at your side. You don't have to wonder where he is or if he's safe."
Rowena blinked. "The one I—what do you mean?"
Zephyrah looked at her, surprised. "I mean, Gareth. Do you not—?"
Rowena flushed. "N— no! It's not like that."
Zephyrah winced. "Forgive me, I just thought... the way he looks at you. And he's always watching out for you."
Rowena's mouth hung open, but she didn't know what to say.
What was Zephyrah talking about?
How did Gareth look at her?
Zephyrah's tone was gentle. "What is he to you, then?"
"He's..." Rowena hesitated, suddenly unsure, "My friend. Nothing more."
Zephyrah's eyes searched Rowena's face. "Are you sure he knows that?"
Rowena laughed dryly, "Of course he does. He is a commoner and I am—" She paused for a moment. The words felt unusually cold and callous.
She sighed heavily. "We could never be together. He knows that."
Zephyrah nodded slowly. "I think I understand. Among my people, station mattered little—until the council came. Now everyone claws for power, just like your human kingdoms. It's tearing us apart."
Rowena finally decided to risk asking a question she had been wondering since witnessing her private conversation with Jhas'tir.
Rowena's voice softened. "Zephyrah, I know there's more to this. Your people are in danger—so why leave them now? What are you really planning?"
Zephyrah let out a shaky breath. "I wish I knew. I'm still searching for the answer."
Rowena's breath caught.
There it was again. That look on Zephyrah's face.
She wasn't being entirely honest.
Zephyrah stood and gestured toward the others. "We should try to get some sleep."
Rowena nodded and started toward her bedroll, but as she passed Gareth, she hesitated. In the moonlit shadows, she watched him sleep, just for a moment. His face was soft as he snored quietly. His handsome features were clear, even in the pale glow of the moon.
For a fleeting second, Zephyrah's words echoed in her mind.
Was there truth to them?
A shy smile tugged at her lips, and warmth crept into her cheeks.
Suddenly aware of herself, she drew a sharp breath, then quickly shook her head and slipped beneath her blanket.
Don't be ridiculous, she scolded herself.
That night, Gareth, Rowena, and Zephyrah endured the most insufferable night of their lives. Without the smoke of a fire, there was nothing to prevent the swarms of insects from finding them.
All night long, the bugs made a feast of their flesh, forcing them to toss, turn, swat, and itch until morning. The only one who slept well was the Dissolver who's tough scales kept him protected and comfortable.
In the morning, the group reluctantly climbed back into the canoes and continued down the river. The broad daylight proved to be of little help in navigating the landscape.
Forks in the river split off into narrow channels or dead-ending in shallow ponds, forcing them to double back again and again. After hours of frustrating paddling, the landscape began to shift even more.
Thick plumes of green algae bloomed and floated throughout the water.
Lilly pads and reeds sprung up in thick clusters and mangrove trees choked out any land.
Then, almost out of nowhere, the marshes ended and the river opened up to a deep-water swamp.
A smell wafted up out of the murky waters, filling their lungs with a heavy stench.
Soon they were lost in a labyrinth of mangroves and inky water, with no dry ground anywhere. The mid-day sun beat down mercilessly through the tree tops, burning their skin and making the air around them damp and suffocating.
They finally stopped the canoes in a rare open patch, discouraged and exhausted. They slapped at mosquitos on their sticky, sweat slicked skin and searched around hopelessly.
Gareth dipped a finger into the water, tasted a few drops, then spat with a grimace.
"It's brackish," he said. "We must be getting close to the ocean now."
Rowena shooed away a horsefly that was buzzing in her ear.
"Yes, but which way? We're hopelessly lost. What if we never find our way out of this miserable swamp?" Rowena's voice trembled, her frustration quickly turning into fear.
Gareth sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose as sweat trickled down his brow.
He glanced at Zephyrah in the other canoe. "Zephyrah, can't you see a way out? Or conjure up a fiery map or something?"
Zephyrah tried to force a weak laugh at his jest, but when she looked into his eyes, she was surprised to see he was dead serious.
She rolled her eyes and answered flatly, "Sorry. It doesn't work like that."
"I think it's peaceful out here," the Dissolver piped up, leaning back in the canoe with a contented sigh.
Gareth groaned, dragging his hand across his sweat-soaked brow and scanning the swamp with narrowed eyes.
Suddenly, his keen eyes spotted something; movement just below the water's surface. But just as quickly as he'd seen it, it was gone.
The Dissolver caught Gareth's fixed stare. "What is it?" he asked, sudden seriousness in his tone.
"I don't know. Maybe nothing." Gareth's answer was tight and his eyes never left the water's surface.
Just then, a barrage of large bubbles erupted under the water, making a visible trail across the waters surface. The wakes were clear, even from such a distance.
Rowena's voice quivered as she turned to Zephyrah. "Do you know what that is?"
Zephyrah studied the bubbles with wide eyes. She gulped and her voice squeaked out, "Whatever it is... Its size is...quite large."
The bubbles came closer—too close—Then disappeared below the canoes.
They waited uneasily for a moment, holding their breaths, but everything remained eerily still.
Zephyrah let out a shaky breath. "Maybe... maybe it was just a turtle."
Gareth looked at her incredulously, his jaw slack, "A turtle?"
"Well... A very large turtle, to be sure." she clarified.
"Yes. Perhaps your right." Gareth's voice was dripping in sarcasm, "If turtles grew to be the size of a cottage."
Suddenly, a harsh scraping rattled the bottoms of their canoes—
loud and jarring, like stone grinding against wood. It dragged the canoes along until the scraping stopped and their boats bobbed on the wakes.
Gareth's heart began to hammer in his chest, and he reached for the longsword on his back. He scoured his memory, trying to recall the many beasts he'd come in contact with over the years, anything that might explain this.
A cold shiver ran down their spines as more bubbles surfaced—
farther away, but coming fast.
"Gareth..." Rowena squirmed uneasily, unintentionally scooting closer to him.
The bubbles shot toward them, churning the water.
"Hold on!" Gareth exclaimed. "It's coming straight for us!"