Dusk Falling (Book 1) (37 page)

“I have to say I am interested in hearing what these dragons have to say.” Serrtin commented.

“Let us hope they deign to tell us what we would like to know.” SkyRift said.

~ ~ ~

The Black Swamp was no more a comforting aspect up close than it was from a distance. The trees- bald cypresses- were darkly beautiful, their green needlelike leaves were set apart by reddish brown fibrous bark. Amidst the deep foreboding shadows and looming mist, even harmless trees looked like wraith sentinels and vines like the ropes of a hangman’s noose. Some of the vines moved, proving they were no vines at all.

Daylight made no difference to the swamps unpleasant appearance, revealing why it had such an uninviting name. There was no easy way in- as if the swamp itself had woven walls to keep out intruders. The swamps personified opinion was given nary ten paces into it when it began to rain.

The rain was more of a heavy mist in consistency, clingy but not altogether horrible. It was not quite cold but the spongy ground had a habit of giving semblance of firmness until a foot came to rest its full weight on it, then water would seep up to thoroughly soak any material. Serrtin was spared from walking in soggy shoes but the chill mush was repugnant in a whole different way. The team could not go more than a handful of yards without tripping upon a cypress root (called a ‘knee’, Agemeer was kind enough to point out). Paths had to be altered for Greobes, a type of poisonous spore-bearing plant that erupted when disturbed, and there was no getting rid of the silent eyes of the Ensai that dogged their passage. The bird-like creatures watched them unblinkingly from the treetops whilst sitting on their bent scythe feet. Over the sounds of the rain, their shuffling could be heard.

Past noon the misty rain became a steady downpour. Heavy droplets escaped the swamps canopy to within moments have them all hunkered in cold misery as they trekked on.

Serrtin wasn’t fond of the idea of halting for a bite of lunch, afraid that stopping might make it hard to start up once again, but she was wise enough to know a forced march through unfamiliar and treacherous terrain was never a good idea and could have abject consequences.

Taking refuge as they could under the trees, they ate little. SkyRift told of what he knew in regards to the Sigilarian Stairwell’s whereabouts. Roughly, the Stairwell was located in the middle of the Black Swamp hidden by the veils of the surrounding plantlife. At Serrtin’s look, the Kiyomouri-in-Elf-form reported he could find them the Stairwell without them having to wander the entire swamp and hope they happened to stumble upon it. Agemeer questioned how with an enthusiasm that bespoke the Wulf must have not been quite as soaked as the rest of them despite his gray fur hanging dejectedly.

SkyRift did not explain, he showed them. Closing his eyes, he expanded his senses- something the two mage-trained could feel like a wave rolling over them and passing by- and ran his mind through the swampland. He could feel lifeforms but with his senses expanded so thinly he could not tell what they were, if they were dangerous or benign. Running over the ground in all directions, he came to what he sought just as the range of his senses gave way. Drawing his concentration to that single point, SkyRift focused. He felt something ancient, something protected on the inside from prying eyes.

Opening his eyes, he pulled back his senses and closed them behind a mental door. He pretended he did not see Aya and Genlo’s reactions for they obviously had underestimated his mind as so powerful a tool. “Given the layout we’ve so far seen, I would say we will arrive the morn after next.”

“Morn after next? Are you sure? The Black Swamp is not the largest landmass…” Serrtin asked. The Yarcka did not mind the rain but the cold was not healthy for her kind, not to mention her team.

“I am sure.” SkyRift responded. “Remember, the Stairwell has protections against intruders within and without. The snakes, sinkholes, Ensai and cold are not the only dangers here.”

“Lovely.” Serrtin said snidely, glaring up at the canopy. The Ensai were still there, a constant annoyance. Now that they were paused, the critters were amassing. Serrtin knew they were no threat unless one of them was sorely injured; Ensai were scavengers. Driving them away would only cause a raucous that would attract unwanted attention otherwise Serrtin would have offered Genlo to indulge himself- the trethen’s eyes were poison, he hated the unasked for company as much as she did.

The swamp grew dark long before the GoldenSphere went down. Fireflies were the only light but there was plenty of sound. Rain continued to patter down in attempt to further torment the already soaked but it was no longer coming down in what seemed like barrels. Strange calls echoed throughout, some were obviously birds, others couldn’t be defined so easily.

Aya had ceased trying to keep dry. It was impossible. Keeping moving kept her from feeling the cold that wanted to seep into her very bones. She had cast a nightvision spell on her eyes, allowing her to at least keep watch on her friends though she could not quite keep up to their pace. Roots and long hanging branches snatched at her limbs and tangled in her hair. It seemed like every time she ducked her head, she would fall behind two steps from her companions.

As she sought to dissect her sopping hair from the grasping twigs of a tree, beginning to grow upset and frustrated, a flash of movement caught her eyes before the branch dropped solidly to her feet, freeing her. Genlopaused half-turned with a look that said he had to explain his actions. “You are going to slow us down if you insist on making friends with all the plantlife on the way.”

“I’m not ‘making friends’. I can’t help the branches catching on my hair anymore than I can the roots tripping my feet.” Aya pulled a bit of moss from her dark tresses, not feeling any better.

“Fine then.” He turned away. “Follow close to me and step where I step.” His claws made short work on the thin branches. He did not complain when each time he cut, he was rewarded with a shower of cold droplets down the back of his shirt. Blinking in gratitude, Aya followed after.

~ ~ ~

The rain slacked off to a fine mist once more, giving the gathered puddles a chance to soak in as best they could. The troupe had been moving in single file so when SkyRift suddenly dropped back after speaking lowly to Serrtin, the others’ ears perked. He did not turn his head as he slowed his pace to walk beside Genlo and Aya. “Be prepared. We’ve garnered attention. Nothing we can’t handle.”

“How many?” Aya asked.

“Between ten and fifteen. Natives of the swamp, I believe.”

“What are they?”

“Can’t tell but they are not a hostile race. They seek only to defend their territory. I do not sense anything deeper than that. “Serrtin agrees we should find a defensible area and then hold our ground.” SkyRift said.

“Will they wait that long…?” Aya remarked worriedly.

SkyRift heard Agemeer’s call as he ran to regain the group from up ahead. “Agemeer has been attacked while scouting ahead. Appears he is unhurt.”

“Looks like the defensible area has been chosen for us.” Genlo mumbled, watching a wave of small reddish creatures giving chase after the fleet footed Wulf.

“Hrilpe?!” Aya exclaimed. “They aren’t normally violent.”

“But like a hive, they will attack if they feel their home is being threatened.” SkyRift told her, amazingly calm. “If we can drop the initial line, the rest will most likely scatter.”

When dusk hit the Black Swamp, it truly
was
black. Without the nightvision spell, Aya could not even see her hand before her face. The rain started again, feeling much like a cruel joke about then. Their clothes had yet to have a chance to dry out in the relatively cool air. Serrtin located a safe haven in the form of a toppled tree that had broken its fall on one of its fellows, making a three-sided cave of sorts. The haven would block much of the rain and wind but the only problem was it was hardly big enough for the five figures that stood gazing into it. It seemed the best they were going to find at the moment given the circumstances.

“Damn,” Serrtin said, hands on hips as rain streamed down her form. “No luck. Aya, Genlo, Agemeer- inside.”

“Th-there isn’t enough room for all of us.” Aya said, examining the small space with its wall of unearthed roots.

“That’s why the largest of us are going to be sleeping outside.” She replied with a roll of her shoulders.

“Just you? But Serrtin I must protest. Constant cold can be detrimental even to a Yarcka.” Agemeer said.

“No, not just me. SkyRift too. And unless you plan on growing some waterproof scales, Agemeer, you are going to go in there.”

The haven could not have been more than maybe five feet wide, not quite twice that in height. Insects hiding in the dirt-encrusted roots, spiders and other such unpleasantness were not something Aya’s mind wanted to consider as she hunkered down into the dark rainless cave. Remarkably, it was dry and the floor was clear of the debris that littered the swamp but for old plant matter that formed a spongy mulch. Once out of the pitter-patter of cold rain, she was acutely aware of how warm, how close, Genlo stood. He too was hunkered against the chill as he stared balefully out, having not wanted to do as asked but not wanting to be in the rain either. Their shoulders almost touched. The Jrahda-trethen was not yet aware of that, caught up in scowling as he was, but he soon would be. Aya wondered how he would react, hating to be near others as he did. The girl knew she shouldn’t watch him, knowing it would only increase his agitation, but found she didn’t really want to look away while this close.

His long slender ears were so delicately fine, pale eyebrows sharp over eyes that even in the dark were like refined gems. Aya really and truly wished to know the one Yukarim had befriended, had protected to the end. It had to have been her dear brother who had had that great influence on Genlo, had changed him from what he had once been to what he was now. Sure, he was no saintly inspiration but with what the Verca probably had him do, it was luck he was redeemable at all. That her elder brother had had such an effect was a somber yet proud thought that grasped her heart in its clutches and squeezed.

SkyRift shifted back into his Kiyomouri form, the dragon would be enough to keep away the rest of the Hrilpe should they (however unlikely) choose to return. He looked much more comfortable in his true form, the rain having turned his handsome Elf form into a bedraggled sad sight. The droplets splashed on his brilliant gold scales and slid off.

Serrtin threatened Agemeer with a glance and the Wulf scurried into the haven, turning sideways to keep from touching the other two stowaways with his sopping wet fur. Serrtin tossed her pack to Aya. “There’s a blanket in there. Shouldn’t be too wet.”

Hiding a smile at the situation, Serrtin moved off to gain what protection from the elements as she could. Her own thick hide would do for now but after a full day of chill, the saurian was looking forward to the sun.

Three pairs of eyes stared out from their imposed shelter. The rain continued unabated. Aya softly cleared her throat, digging out the blanket from the wet kickbag. “D-do you… want to share?”

Genlo stared at her through the darkness, too miserable to even spit out a ‘are you kidding me?!’. Twisting his long hair, he wrung out the water heedless of his boots. The half-Elf sat, putting his back to the trunk of one of the fallen trees instead of the dirt-encrusted roots. He had looked at the roots for a moment as if just remembering he no longer needed to protect Yukarim’s clothing anymore before settling with his legs bent.

Aya followed suit and, with a reproachful glance to Serrtin, Agemeer laid down over the mages small booted feet. She leaned back, half resting on the kickbag stuffed off to the side with the blanket tucked over her shoulders. Dismissing the spell, the darkness closed in. She could hear signs of life coming from Genlo though she could not see him and felt at ease enough without sight. He flicked his wet hair, moved his feet. He sighed softly. “Are you tired?” Aya asked, recognizing his restlessness.

Genlo bit down on a sharp retort, knowing she had not meant anything by her innocent question. “Not really.”

“I wonder what’s in store for us in the Sigilarian Stairwell tomorrow. The Stairwell is just the first step to meeting the Divinari. I wonder what they will be like.” Aya smiled. “Yukarim used to tell me stories when I was little about them- the greatest of all dragons.”

Genlo looked at the girl out of the corner of his eye. Her own eyes were open but unfocused, no longer piercing the shadows by magic. The Jrahda-trethen noted the similarities he had missed before between the girl and Yukarim. They were a lot alike, as much if not more so, mentally than physically. Around her he did not feel so responsible for Yukarim’s death. He rested his head on the tree. “Yea…”

“I know we will get past the Sigilarian Stairwell and we will reach the Divinari and seek their wisdom. They will know what we can do.” She said confidently. “After all, they were sent with the Serrhnafae by the Gods themselves.”

“Just because they were emissaries to Lisaria does not mean they hold the secret to killing their one-time allies.”

“Well,” Aya said, cocking her head. “They are our best bet for now, at least able to offer insight. We need that- any information they have to give.”

Genlo pondered the term ‘we’. Yukarim always said ‘we’, including him in all tasks even when Genlo wasn’t involved.
We need to gather firewood. We need to put out the rain barrel
. Would he have continued to do such if the Verca never came? “If he had known, he probably would have asked me to leave.”

Aya was silent for a moment, gathering the ‘he’ Genlo mentioned was her deceased brother. Yukarim had been the first and only to offer his hand with no strings attached. Yukarim was selfless. He had been that way all his life. She didn’t want to say anything right away and have Genlo think she was not considering the matter wholly. Aya had faith in her brother but she was not biased merely because he was blood. She knew in her heart Yukarim would always do what was right. Infallible was the faith she placed in him. “Yukarim would have without doubt acted the same. If given the chance to do it all over again, if he could see you now and know how much that slight time spent had come to effect you, my brother would have changed nothing. When he decided on a course, he saw it through; It was simply his way.”