Chapter 16 The Fetid Source
Rowena gritted her teeth as she swam through the disgusting swamp water. She couldn't believe she agreed to help Zephyrah, even after everything she did.
She glanced over her shoulder, meeting the Dissolver's eyes with silent hostility.
Of course, he'd told her everything.
The boy was too trusting.
Still, despite her anger, the prospect of finally discovering the location of the prince—and her father—excited her. But she tried to keep her expectations and hope at bay.
First, they would have to make it out of this wretched swamp.
"Are you sure this is a good idea, Zephyrah?" Rowena's voice was sharp.
Zephyrah swam ahead of her, watching the water closely. "Yes. If this is the Crocodile's territory, then it may be exposed to the infection somewhere nearby. If we follow the creature, it may lead us to the source of this disease."
Gareth stayed ahead of the others, swimming from tree to tree, grappling onto the exposed roots. He focused carefully, following the thin, inky film trail the creature left behind.
He held a finger to his lips, "Please. Quiet down. I told you, I cannot track it if you keep talking. It will hear us."
Rowena groaned, curling her lip in disgust as she swatted away a slick glob of algae floating beneath her chin.
"How do you know the disease isn't in the water?" She whispered, her temper still not satisfied.
Zephyrah rolled her eyes, "There is nothing unusual about this water. Haven't you ever seen a swamp before?"
Rowena sensed the bite in her tone.
She let out a bitter laugh. "You know, for a little while, I almost believed your ruse. Your kindness certainly wore off quickly now that your lies are exposed."
Zephyrah's eyes flashed. "And you wouldn't have lied, if it were your people's lives at stake?"
"My people's lives are at stake!" Rowena snapped.
Gareth's voice suddenly cut in, stifling their argument, "Look, there is land ahead."
He breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
He couldn't wait to get Rowena out of the water. He hoped it might ease her frustration and stop their endless bickering.
They approached the steep, slippery bank with caution. The air was thick with the stench of rotting vegetation and brackish water. Across the mud, they could see the unmistakable trail of the giant crocodile.
There were deep, ragged tracks gouged by its massive claws, and a wide, flattened trench where its belly had dragged through. Patches of broken reeds and crushed lilies littered the shore where the beast had thrashed its way up.
They hauled themselves from the stinking water, dripping and miserable. Rowena wrung out her cloak, watching brown water stream from the fabric while Gareth emptied his boots, grimacing as he picked leeches off his ankles.
Zephyrah inspected what was left of her tail. Nearly all the fur and flesh had been stripped away, leaving the bones exposed. Blood still oozed slowly from the wound, and pain radiated up her spine.
She hovered her hand over the wound, taking a deep breath and then letting it out slowly. She tried to clear her mind, focusing solely on communicating and connecting with the Ancient Power within her.
But no matter how hard she tried to focus, every time she felt like the connection was strong and power started to rise, it would taper off again, and her mind would wander back to the pain. She was too exhausted to heal herself.
Rowena watched Zephyrah from a distance, unable to look away from the gruesome wound. The pain etched in Zephyrah's face made Rowena's stomach twist.
Zephyrah looked miserable.
Rowena clutched the scabbard tightly, wondering if she should trust Zephyrah, after everything she had done. For a moment, she thought about ignoring her, letting the pain be payment for her dishonesty.
But then her heart softened.
No one should have to bear pain needlessly.
With a reluctant sigh, Rowena trudged through the muck and removed the scabbard from her back.
She held it out to Zephyrah, not able to meet her eyes. "Here."
Zephyrah raised her brow, "You want me to ... carry it?"
"Not really." Rowena sneered, "But I think you should. It will help you."
"I don't understand." Zephyrah said, eyeing the weapon.
"I don't know how it works," Rowena admitted, "but whenever I carry it, my wounds heal—slowly, I'll admit, but they do. It is better than nothing."
Zephyrah gently took the weapon and held it in her palms.
"Remarkable..." she murmured "How did you discover this?"
"I first noticed it in the mountains, after our village was destroyed.
I did not realize it was the weapon's doing at that time but," She pointed to her rib, "I had a bad wound here, but it healed almost overnight.
Since then, every time I carry the scabbard, I recover faster.
It's like the weapon pulls me back from the edge. "
Zephyrah's brow furrowed and she looked like she was deep in thought.
"What is it?" Rowena asked.
"It's just interesting. Even in a dormant state, power radiates from it. I can feel it. I just wonder if it would be possible..." She trailed off, staring at the scabbard, as if it were speaking to her. She held the scabbard in one hand, then hovered her other hand over her wound again.
Zephyrah focused again, this time reaching for the well of power within herself and also to the power radiating from the weapon; drawing from it. Her palm began to shimmer, threads of silver light weaving between her fingers.
But it felt different, stronger, purer.
Her heart beat faster as the Power reached through her into her palm. A bright radiant light, erupted and engulfed her tail, healing it in an instant.
She gasped and dropped the weapon, severing the connection at once.
The sudden burst of light caught the attention of Gareth and the Dissolver who quickly rushed over.
"What was that?" Gareth asked, his eyes wide.
"Rowena, did you see that?" Zephyrah asked, breathlessly.
Rowena picked up the scabbard and wiped off the mud. "How did you do that?"
Zephyrah tested her tail, giving it a wag, and smiled broadly, "I can't believe it! Even in its dormant state, its power is accessible! And the power, I—I have never felt anything like that before."
"What does this mean?" Gareth asked.
"I don't know," Zephyrah admitted, still staring at her hands in disbelief. "I never thought it was possible... It does make one wonder... What else it can be used for..."
Rowena slung the scabbard over her shoulder again and shook her head. "No. We should leave it alone."
The look in Zephyrah's eye frightened her. She knew how desperate she was to save her people.
Then, almost as if reading her mind, Zephyrah quickly said, "Of course. You're right. We will speak no more of this."
Rowena tightened her grip on the leather strap of the scabbard, eyeing Zephyrah with measured suspicion.
"Come on. We need to keep moving." Gareth urged.
They pressed on, pushing aside the tall grass and thick weeds that surrounded them. Sometimes the path vanished beneath the water, forcing them to wade through shallow channels and pools.
As the hours dragged on, the swamp began to change around them. The lush greenery slowly became skeletal and pale, completely stripped of life. Veils of algae floated lifeless, no longer green, but grey.
The smaller wildlife around them appeared in haunting glimpses. Herons struggled with drooping wings, turtles barely moved, and frogs twitched and spasmed. Each one of them was covered in weeping sores and mottled skin.
"We must be getting close." Gareth whispered.
Zephyrah's face twisted. Her brow furrowed, and her lips pressed tight as if she were fighting off a wave of nausea.
"Are you alright?" The Dissolver asked her.
She nodded, "Yes. But—Something isn't right. I feel something...dark. I can't explain it, but it makes me feel—"
Rowena suddenly gasped and pointed, "Look at the water!"
The group stared in horror as the water ahead began to swirl with rusty tendrils. The surface clouded in the spreading stain. With every step, the murky water deepened in color, from dull copper to a thick, dark crimson.
The unmistakable color of blood.
The stench became almost unbearable. It was metallic, fetid, and suffocating. Clouds of insects swarmed from the water's surface, buzzing around their faces and arms.
They slipped past a barrier of dying mangrove trees and then froze in their tracks.
Rising from the swamp's mist was something they never expected.
A fortress of black stone and iron loomed in the distance, its jagged towers rising towards the sky. Tattered banners hung from the highest spire, emblazoned with a symbol none of them recognized.
It was an upside-down crescent moon, its arc cradling a menacing eye.
The entire fortress sat in a wide clearing, encircled by a shallow moat of blood-red water.
"What is this place?" Rowena asked breathlessly as a chill ran down her spine.
"Get down!" Gareth hissed, gripping her shoulder and nodding toward the stone walls. "The Crocodile. There—look!"
They dropped behind the tangled roots and watched as the beast combed through the water.
"What is it doing?" The Dissolver asked, trembling.
Gareth's eyes narrowed. "Feeding. On...something."
The crocodile scooped up a bloated, fleshy carapace, hungrily swallowing it down. Then it scooped up another, and another.
Rowena's face went pale, and her stomach turned when she saw the limp arms and twisted fingers attached to the corpses.
She swallowed hard and whispered. "Are those...bodies?"