37. Chapter Thirty-Seven #2
I eat some almonds, berries, and dried meat I packed to offer extra energy in small amounts. I have two bottles of water, and I drink a fourth of the way through one to conserve it. There are unknown things in enchanted places, and if I can avoid the natural mountain water, it will be best.
I watch where I step carefully and avoid the mud, which means I hop to tree roots and boulders until I find the main path and continue on my journey.
Every little sound captures my attention, and my hat stays off my ears to help me hear better.
It’s best kept on my head in case more banshees show up, but it warms me a bit too much.
I’m a miserable mess, and it seems I’ve not even made it halfway.
After tallying my damages, I have dozens of stings that are severely itchy, like the time I had Elven pox as a child, but they’re harmless thanks to the salve Ivelle helped me make.
The extra socks in my bag came in handy, but rocks and other debris leave my feet scratched up.
There are three more pairs in my bag, and I have Ivelle’s odd obsession with knitting socks to thank for me packing so many.
The sun is setting, and Zyon told me more than once not to travel at night because larger, more dangerous creatures emerge for their nightly meals.
I wonder if he knew about the time limit when he told me that.
It seems he would have. As the stars become more vivid, I search for a good place to stop.
There’s nothing great for a bit, and I’m exposed in the darkness for much longer than I like when I come across an enormous fallen log.
I stuff one end with rank moss to help hide my scent and push a boulder in behind the moss.
The log is wide enough for me to comfortably slide inside and not hyperventilate in too tight a space.
I drag some moss into the bottom to cushion it better and to cover myself in the forest scent all night.
I carve tiny holes into the top with Lazzus’s dagger because it slices the wood so easily and never dulls.
They will keep me from suffocating. The last thing I do is bring over a lot of moss and a boulder.
I lie on top of the shrubbery and pull the large rock into the hole to block the second entrance.
Then I push the greenery out from under me and in front of the second side.
The shelter I’ve created should keep predators from finding me through the night, and the small holes will allow air through and alert me of morning’s arrival.
My muscles cramp, and my body is exhausted clear to the bone.
In all my travels, there was never a trek so fierce, and tomorrow will only hold more challenges.
I pray to every god I’ve learned about and give a general plea to any unknown one who may help.
My mind stays awake when it should sleep, and I wonder how far the other women made it before they died or ran out of time.
What exactly would happen if I didn’t die and only failed to make it to the well in time?
I can think of two main options, and both reset the curse.
Maybe it would kill me instantly, or I’d live, but it would strip everything from me.
I practice the breathing exercises Ivelle taught me and force thoughts away. They keep bombarding me, but my body finally gives in to the severe fatigue and sleeps.
Everything on me aches by morning, but the stings have mainly stopped itching. A second cream I rub on them will prevent scarring. It’s a vain thing to worry about with potential death and a ticking clock of demise nipping at my back, but it’s not something I can fix later.
A gentle breeze eases the warm day, and out of habit, I almost remove the cloak several times.
A creak or chirp will remind me that the sky can’t see me, and the cloak stays on.
It’s something that took me forever to get, and it would be unwise to forsake its usefulness.
By midmorning, my bare feet ache so much that I have to take a break, and I eat the small snacks that will fuel me enough for the rest of the journey.
I’ve done well to ration the water. A white and red spotted mushroom stands out among the yellow grass that has become more prominent than the trees.
It’s the largest I’ve ever seen and a kind I’ve eaten many times on my journey to various villages.
I go to pluck it just in case there is a need for it at some point.
It lifts its cap toward the sky, and tiny black eyes open to stare at me from above its ring skirt. Right below its beady pupils, a mouth yawns and giggles escape it. Handless arms stretch out from the sides, and it bobs up and down.
“Hello, little friend, are you hostile?”
It giggles and shakes its head back and forth. Its side stubs wave toward the forest, and it hops between the trees. It stops and turns around, pointing at the trees.
“Sorry. There’s no time for me to follow you, but I wish you well.”
It bounces high several times until it lands in front of me, tugging on my leg and laughing.
Its laughter gets so shrill and loud that I pull my hat down over my ears.
Five more bounce onto the path, and I keep walking.
Many more shoot out from the trees, and I pick up my pace to a jog that turns into full out running when an uncountable amount appear.
Their giggling breaks through my ear protection, and they shove me to the ground onto several more of them.
They jump together as if they practiced for a perfect kidnapping performance.
I flop around on top of them and struggle to roll away from them as they move under me each time I get close to an end.
A pile of bones is stacked between the widest gap in the trees, and several of the mushrooms are ripping flesh and meat from a carcass of what might be a half-eaten deer.
Their arms are useless, so they tear it apart with only their teeth, and one takes time to lift its head to hiss at me with its scarlet stained mouth.
They throw me into a hole that only comes to my hip and would be easy to get out of if it weren’t for all the little mushrooms surrounding the short pit. They stack on top of each other to create a wall, and I remove my sword.
The dry dirt around the pit cracks, and a blue scarab beetle pops out.
It’s a pretty creature with a shiny blue back and a golden body.
Its six legs pop out from the sides, and it has four pincers that must be avoided at all costs.
Two more fall out. There’s no time to worry about them, so I launch toward the mushrooms and knock through them with my sword.
I spin in a circle and send them flying everywhere.
A beetle climbs on my leg, and I knock it down with my opposite foot.
I fling my sword back and forth, sending the evil little spores in all directions until I’m able to clear a path for myself and climb out of the hole.
I slice any that get close and jump over them until I make it back to the path.
My side screams for relief, but I don’t stop running until the giggling stops with my hat above my ears.
Piercing pain bites into my legs, and I undo my pants as something scurries under my skin.
Three more beetles make it between my muscles and bones.
Another goes up through my foot, and I brace myself to do what I have to do.
I have long known the only way to keep a scarab beetle from reaching my heart.
It’s their favorite meal and how they kill.
I take out a duller dagger and stab it into my leg right above the highest traveling beetle and pop it out.
There’s no time to register the pain as I scoop each one from my flesh and slam large rocks down on them once they fly out.
Three are removed from my leg, a fourth from my side, and a fifth from my shoulder.
The final one makes it past my armpit and is so close to my heart.
I stab my knife right in front of it and rip open my armpit to stop it.
Six lay lifeless on the ground when I’m finished, and dizziness is overwhelming my senses. I slam the rock into each one several more times until each turn to pulp. Blood pours from my wounds, and I wobble. I have seconds to get my clotting potions on them before I pass out and die.