Chapter 39 Cryptic is the Word, All Right
I was still reeling from the information the Glass Unicorn and Otsiano had given us.
We knew that we were likely stuck in the game for a while, but now it had suddenly become so much more.
We were here for good, unless a portal could be created back to our world.
The Syms were no longer Syms—not even autonomous ones—but very real creatures, and if we died here, we died for good.
“I’m not sure what to say.” Thornhold stared ahead at the marshes.
We were on the edge of the swamp, which stretched unendingly across the horizon.
It was far too wide to see a way around it, and we had at least fifty miles of bog ahead of us.
In the distant mist, we could see the silhouette of massive mountains, dark against the morning sky.
They rose to craggy heights that scared me even from here.
At least we’d reach the village of Tyrnis before we entered the mountain range.
And at least we’d cut about a week off our travels by going through the Crystal Forest. But the knowledge that Zaran was on our heels cast a somber shroud over the party.
“I’m not sure either.” I crinkled my nose.
The marshes smelled—not quite like skunk, but pungent. If it continued, we’d be in for at least two or three days of nasty smells.
“We need walking sticks, or we might end up in some quicksand,” Brynn said.
“There are a couple of large trees to the left,” Ray said, pointing toward a couple of massive yew trees.
“I don’t know,” Reggie said. “That’s yew—and yew is a dangerous wood, magically.”
“We don’t have much choice,” I said, glancing around. Behind us, the Dark Woodland ended at least a mile back. And between the forest and the marsh was a stretch of grassland, until moss began to take over from the grass, and scrub brush started up near the edge of the water.
Patches of knee-high cordgrass interspersed with what looked like peat and dark muddy soil, with short bushes covered in thorns, made up what we could see of the Cryptic Marshes.
No flowers were out at this point, given we were nearing winter, but the thorny brambles were thick; their leaves had withered away, but the thorns were just as sharp as during the summer.
The canes looked as if they had burrowed through the ground, popping up every few steps.
“This is going to be tricky,” I said. “Those thorns look nasty.”
In fact, they did look dangerous. They glistened, which meant they were either super sharp, or they had something on them.
“Does anybody remember these from playing the game?” Brynn asked.
“I think so,” Reggie said. “In one of my solo online campaigns, I think I encountered these at one point, and the thorns are poisonous, but I don’t think they were fatal. They caused some sort of nasty reaction, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what.”
“Well, at least it’s not fatal, if your memories are correct,” Ray said. “Have we got everything? Except for the walking sticks?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Let’s grab some branches and get moving.”
We headed toward the nearest yew tree, reluctantly ready to enter the marshes.
An hour later, I was reconsidering how bad the Necromancer had to be. Maybe 15th level meant he was just really good at talking to zombies. Or maybe he had the anti-hero thing going on and we could redeem him.
I paused, ankle-deep in swampy water, chilled, covered with bites from the swarming insects that even a cold autumn day couldn’t kill.
We’d struggled through about two miles in the past hour, barely, and I was already exhausted.
Given I was now an Elf, I shouldn’t be tired, but I was. I stopped, leaning on my walking stick.
“You okay?” Thornhold asked, struggling even worse than me. He was short and stout, and that combined with boggy fens made the rest of us look graceful.
“No, I’m not. I’m already tired, I’m cold, and I hate the stench of this marsh.
” I lowered my head, staring at the cordgrass spreading over the spongy ground.
Everything felt bleak. I almost wished we hadn’t gone through the Crystal Forest. That we still had several days before we came to the Cryptic Marshes.
“Isn’t there a way around this freaking place? ”
Reggie shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, Erenye, there isn’t.
We could go around, I suppose, but winter would set in long before we reached the mountains.
We have forty or so miles to cross this fen, but it’s far wider than it is deep, so it would take us a long time to pick our way around.
And the map doesn’t show much of what lies on either end. ”
“Yes, but wouldn’t we go faster on normal ground?” I knew I was grasping at straws, but the marshes seemed impenetrable now that we were in them.
“If we can make two miles an hour, that’s twenty to thirty hours of traveling. Even if we only manage eight hours a day of travel, that’s three days. Surely we can manage that?” Brynn asked.
“But where do we camp? I’m not sleeping in mud.” From the moment we’d set foot into the marsh, we had yet to find a dry spot of ground. Otsiano had promised there were places to camp, but so far, we hadn’t come across one.
“We don’t have a choice,” Thornhold said, placing a gentle hand on my arm. “I know this is hard, and I know the news about this being an actual dimension rather than a game construct hit you hard, but Erenye, it hit all of us. We’re all coping with the same news that you are.”
I inhaled a shaky breath, hearing him even though I didn’t want to.
We were all in this together. It wasn’t just me.
And my friends were sticking by me even though we had a power-hungry wizard after us.
A wizard who just happened to be able to raise the dead.
They could have deserted me, but they hadn’t.
After a moment, I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. I’m overwhelmed, but I’ll stop whining. You’re right—it’s only two or three days. The longer we pause, the longer it will take. I’m all right. Let’s move while we still have light.”
We began moving again, with me in the front since I was a ranger.
I took a sip of water from the waterskin to clear my head and forced myself to focus.
One foot in front of the other, I told myself.
One step at a time. Rome wasn’t built in a day.
The longest journey begins with a single step.
And every other clichéd but true sentiment I could muster.
We moved forward through the bog, slogging through murky water. Ray helped Thornhold keep steady, and Brynn and Reggie traversed the muck in silence. After a while, we worked out a rhythm to our pace, and we started to make a little better time.
As we proceeded, I began to notice drier patches along the route.
I called over my shoulders to the others, and we picked out the driest route possible.
Another hour, and we were walking on a narrow stretch of dry ground, zigzagging through the cordgrass and scrub brush, and we managed to pick up the pace a little.
As the sun began to lower in the sky, I looked around. The surrounding area was about the driest we’d found. There wasn’t much room to set up tents, but we could probably all fit into one if we didn’t mind cuddling up to each other. In fact, I thought that would keep us warmer.
I turned to the others and motioned to the surrounding grass. “We’re not going to find better before dark. Let’s make camp.”
“We’ve come about seven miles since we started,” Reggie said. “I have a pedometer that doesn’t need batteries,” he added.
“Seven miles down, about 35 to go,” I said, still feeling disheartened. But I wasn’t crying, we weren’t hurt, and we were making some progress. That was about as good as it was going to get, I thought.
“We shouldn’t build a fire,” Thornhold said. “There are gases in marshes like these, and they can catch fire.”
“It’s also a beacon that somebody’s here,” Brynn said, helping to set up the tent.
“Then we’re in for a cold dinner,” I said, shivering. “Let’s get inside and eat something. I want to start off as soon as it’s light enough to see,” I added.
As we stored our packs at the back of the tent—where they took up a third of the room—a loud shriek echoed through the evening air, reverberating before it faded away. It gave me chills, though I thought it was probably some bird, and the sound made me feel incredibly isolated and lonely.
“Come on,” Thornhold whispered, motioning for me to sit in front of him. “Let me give you a neck rub.”
I nodded, grateful for the human contact. Brynn cut slices of bread and cheese for us, along with dried fruit and pieces of jerky. We ate silently, then spent the rest of the evening trading foot rubs and shoulder massages to avoid stiffening up.
As we crawled under the pile of open sleeping bags, maneuvering for space, I hoped that the night would pass without incident, because I didn’t think I could handle anything more than that.