“Why can’t you just make her marry you?” Ira asked.
“That’s not how it works,” Valefor shook his head. “She has to choose me. But she will. Give her a few days of suffering, and she’ll beg for me to marry her and set her free from that pit.”
15
The swamp gurgled around them. Bubbles rose to the surface, and when they popped, they made the noise of a crying child. This had given it the Weeping Waters, and that sound of a child in danger had led many unsuspecting travelers to their death.
Wick and Lux made their way carefully across the swamp, using stones, trees, and the occasional patch of land to avoid stepping in the sludge. Touching the water wouldn’t mean certain death in itself, but both Wick and Lux knew the source of the weeping bubbles.
Hidden beneath the murky film were fish the size of grown men with teeth like blades, waiting to snap at anything that entered the water. They made the crying sound, sending it out in hopes of luring someone to rescue a child that did not exist. Like a siren song, they called to their prey, tricking them into becoming a meal.
Wick knew her way through the swamp better than Lux, having traversed more times than she would’ve liked. Once across the wretched water was more than enough. It smelled putrid, of decay and death, and the crying call of the fish was maddening.
A massive tree had tipped over in the center of the swamp, and its large roots were splayed out above the surface, thick as tree trunks themselves. When they reached it, Wick stopped, standing on a large rock that jutted out of the swamp. She’d been leading the way, and Lux stood on the rock behind her.
“What’s wrong?” Lux asked, keeping his voice low. The creatures in the water listened for any sound, any reason to leap from the water.
“It didn’t used to be like this.” She motioned to the overturned tree in front of them. “Below the tree used to be a small island. It was a respite in the middle of swamp, where you could catch your breath without fear of being eaten alive.”
“Where’s the island now?” Lux asked.
“I don’t know.” Wick shook her head. “When the tree went over, the island must’ve gone with it. I suppose the roots were holding the dirt in place, and without it, it just sunk.”
“We still have to go across. Island or not.”
Instead of replying to that, Wick bent down and slid off her shoes. They were little more than worn cloth, more like socks or slippers than true shoes, and they had nothing to grip with on their bottoms. She put the shoes in her satchel, then reached out carefully and stepped onto the root in front of her.
Since they were roots, they were smoother and slicker than the other trunks they had stopped on. Some of them were even covered in mud or moss, making them even more slippery. While most of the roots were quite thick, not all of them were. Going across them meant stepping on narrow roots, ones that might even snap under their weight.
There was no other way through the swamp, unless they went back and around the Weeping Waters, and they didn’t have time for that.
Lux followed suit and slipped off his own shoes. His were newer and far nicer than Wick’s, but like her shoes, they didn’t have soles for gripping. He didn’t have a satchel to put them in, so he simply left them on the rock and went after her.
Wick stepped delicately from one root to the next. Her footing was nimble, and Lux found her surprisingly agile. He had to struggle to keep up with her, but her confidence worked against her. She jumped to the next root, and though she landed it, her foot slipped on a patch of moss, and she fell.
“Wick!” Lux yelled, and she caught herself before she tumbled into the water. One arm wrapped around the root, she dangled above the swamp, her bare feet mere inches from the surface.
“I’m okay,” Wick said through gritted teeth. She tried to pull herself up, but her arm slipped and she almost fell again.
“Hang on.” Lux scrambled across the roots, hurrying to get to her. “I’ll pull you up. Just hang on.”
“Be careful,” Wick warned him. “You can’t help me if you fall in.”
Lux followed her advice but knew he had to move fast to get her. Her grip on the branch seemed tenuous, and he could see her satchel slipping from her shoulder. If that fell into the water, the fish would leap out after it and grab onto Wick, pulling her into the murky depths.
Wick felt the strap slipping down her arm, and she rolled her shoulder, trying to push it back up. She glanced down at all the bubbles below her feet, growing louder and more rapid, like the fish sensed she was hovering just above them. Her satchel had tilted to the side, and one of her shoes was hanging out.
It was going to fall, and she had to catch it before it did. Wick wrapped one arm tightly around the root, securing herself as best she could, and let go with her other arm, meaning to grab the shoe. But when she let go, her balance shifted, and she swung just slightly to the side. But that was all the shoe needed. It slipped out of her bag and tumbled towards the swamp.
“No,” Wick whispered, staring in horror as the shoe splashed into the muck.
She turned back around to grab the root and try to pull herself up again, but instead of the tree, she got Lux’s hand. He grabbed her and yanked her up, just as she heard the splash below her.
Wick was facing Lux, so she couldn’t see it, but he could. A giant brown fish leapt out of the water, its skin thick with the swamp water. It had fins like a normal fish, but six long tentacles grew out of each of its sides, like overgrown catfish whiskers. That was how the fish could propel itself through the muddy swamp.
Its eyes were wide and glassy, glazed over with cataracts from never seeing light in the water. Its teeth jutted out in angles, like sharp daggers. When the fish opened its mouth, it was like a monstrous bear trap that clamped down on the air just below Wick’s feet.
Lux pulled Wick onto the root next to him, and they both knelt there for a minute, catching their breath. Before the first fish had even landed back in the water, another one had jumped out. Within seconds, there was a feeding frenzy as they leapt into the air, snapping at nothing since they couldn’t quite jump as high as where Lux and Wick rested.
“Thank you,” Wick panted, but she wouldn’t look at Lux when she said it.
“No problem,” he said.
The crying of the fish had gotten even louder, sounding more like a screaming child now. They were starving and angry that their dinner had been taken away after being dangled in front of them. Because of this anger, one of the fish was able to leap out even farther, snapping its jaws dangerously close to Lux’s leg.
“That’s not how it works,” Valefor shook his head. “She has to choose me. But she will. Give her a few days of suffering, and she’ll beg for me to marry her and set her free from that pit.”
15
The swamp gurgled around them. Bubbles rose to the surface, and when they popped, they made the noise of a crying child. This had given it the Weeping Waters, and that sound of a child in danger had led many unsuspecting travelers to their death.
Wick and Lux made their way carefully across the swamp, using stones, trees, and the occasional patch of land to avoid stepping in the sludge. Touching the water wouldn’t mean certain death in itself, but both Wick and Lux knew the source of the weeping bubbles.
Hidden beneath the murky film were fish the size of grown men with teeth like blades, waiting to snap at anything that entered the water. They made the crying sound, sending it out in hopes of luring someone to rescue a child that did not exist. Like a siren song, they called to their prey, tricking them into becoming a meal.
Wick knew her way through the swamp better than Lux, having traversed more times than she would’ve liked. Once across the wretched water was more than enough. It smelled putrid, of decay and death, and the crying call of the fish was maddening.
A massive tree had tipped over in the center of the swamp, and its large roots were splayed out above the surface, thick as tree trunks themselves. When they reached it, Wick stopped, standing on a large rock that jutted out of the swamp. She’d been leading the way, and Lux stood on the rock behind her.
“What’s wrong?” Lux asked, keeping his voice low. The creatures in the water listened for any sound, any reason to leap from the water.
“It didn’t used to be like this.” She motioned to the overturned tree in front of them. “Below the tree used to be a small island. It was a respite in the middle of swamp, where you could catch your breath without fear of being eaten alive.”
“Where’s the island now?” Lux asked.
“I don’t know.” Wick shook her head. “When the tree went over, the island must’ve gone with it. I suppose the roots were holding the dirt in place, and without it, it just sunk.”
“We still have to go across. Island or not.”
Instead of replying to that, Wick bent down and slid off her shoes. They were little more than worn cloth, more like socks or slippers than true shoes, and they had nothing to grip with on their bottoms. She put the shoes in her satchel, then reached out carefully and stepped onto the root in front of her.
Since they were roots, they were smoother and slicker than the other trunks they had stopped on. Some of them were even covered in mud or moss, making them even more slippery. While most of the roots were quite thick, not all of them were. Going across them meant stepping on narrow roots, ones that might even snap under their weight.
There was no other way through the swamp, unless they went back and around the Weeping Waters, and they didn’t have time for that.
Lux followed suit and slipped off his own shoes. His were newer and far nicer than Wick’s, but like her shoes, they didn’t have soles for gripping. He didn’t have a satchel to put them in, so he simply left them on the rock and went after her.
Wick stepped delicately from one root to the next. Her footing was nimble, and Lux found her surprisingly agile. He had to struggle to keep up with her, but her confidence worked against her. She jumped to the next root, and though she landed it, her foot slipped on a patch of moss, and she fell.
“Wick!” Lux yelled, and she caught herself before she tumbled into the water. One arm wrapped around the root, she dangled above the swamp, her bare feet mere inches from the surface.
“I’m okay,” Wick said through gritted teeth. She tried to pull herself up, but her arm slipped and she almost fell again.
“Hang on.” Lux scrambled across the roots, hurrying to get to her. “I’ll pull you up. Just hang on.”
“Be careful,” Wick warned him. “You can’t help me if you fall in.”
Lux followed her advice but knew he had to move fast to get her. Her grip on the branch seemed tenuous, and he could see her satchel slipping from her shoulder. If that fell into the water, the fish would leap out after it and grab onto Wick, pulling her into the murky depths.
Wick felt the strap slipping down her arm, and she rolled her shoulder, trying to push it back up. She glanced down at all the bubbles below her feet, growing louder and more rapid, like the fish sensed she was hovering just above them. Her satchel had tilted to the side, and one of her shoes was hanging out.
It was going to fall, and she had to catch it before it did. Wick wrapped one arm tightly around the root, securing herself as best she could, and let go with her other arm, meaning to grab the shoe. But when she let go, her balance shifted, and she swung just slightly to the side. But that was all the shoe needed. It slipped out of her bag and tumbled towards the swamp.
“No,” Wick whispered, staring in horror as the shoe splashed into the muck.
She turned back around to grab the root and try to pull herself up again, but instead of the tree, she got Lux’s hand. He grabbed her and yanked her up, just as she heard the splash below her.
Wick was facing Lux, so she couldn’t see it, but he could. A giant brown fish leapt out of the water, its skin thick with the swamp water. It had fins like a normal fish, but six long tentacles grew out of each of its sides, like overgrown catfish whiskers. That was how the fish could propel itself through the muddy swamp.
Its eyes were wide and glassy, glazed over with cataracts from never seeing light in the water. Its teeth jutted out in angles, like sharp daggers. When the fish opened its mouth, it was like a monstrous bear trap that clamped down on the air just below Wick’s feet.
Lux pulled Wick onto the root next to him, and they both knelt there for a minute, catching their breath. Before the first fish had even landed back in the water, another one had jumped out. Within seconds, there was a feeding frenzy as they leapt into the air, snapping at nothing since they couldn’t quite jump as high as where Lux and Wick rested.
“Thank you,” Wick panted, but she wouldn’t look at Lux when she said it.
“No problem,” he said.
The crying of the fish had gotten even louder, sounding more like a screaming child now. They were starving and angry that their dinner had been taken away after being dangled in front of them. Because of this anger, one of the fish was able to leap out even farther, snapping its jaws dangerously close to Lux’s leg.
