Jill Williamson: To Darkness Fled

"Your Majesty, everyone is knowing that's no job for you," Inko said.

Achan reached out until his hand hit the side of the boat, then turned his back to it and almost lost a boot in the sludge. "Get on, Sparrow, before I change my mind. And if I'm holding you up, you get the rope."

After a long, ungraceful moment, in which Achan nearly dropped Sparrow in the lake, the boy sat on Achan's back, clinging to his throat. He took the rope from Achan's hand.

Achan hiked Sparrow up his back again and held him under his knees. "Don't choke me."

Inko climbed out, and the companions left the boat behind. They waded along, tethered by Sir Caleb's rope, trusting nothing but Sir Gavin's nose to lead them. Achan hoped Sir Gavin's nose wouldn't start running from the cold. At least Achan had Sparrow's hot breath to warm his neck.

He trudged on, each step a battle between the muck gripping his boots and the branches snagging his clothes, as if walking in a lightless void weren't awkward enough. Sparrow had better hold on, because he made no guarantee he could keep this up for long. Slowly, the water level dropped away. When it lapped around Achan's thighs, he set Sparrow on his feet.

Achan waded, rope tugging him along, body lurching through the sludge under his boots. Sound, smell, the cold…it all seemed to magnify without light. The water gurgled and splashed from the party's movement. But there were other sounds-a hiss, a rattle, a pecking-from overhead. The land smelled sour, like turned pudding.

"There's a cluster of trees here," Sir Gavin called from the front of the line. "Careful not to hurt yourselves."

The water sloshed around Achan's boots now. He held a hand out in front to feel for the trees. Pulled along by Sir Gavin's tether, Achan's hand smacked against slimy bark, and his body slid between several tree trunks, feet stumbling over the gnarled roots. He didn't want to know what made the trees slimy, especially considering the putrid smell.

Finally they stepped onto dry ground. Achan took his belt and sword off his neck and hooked it around his waist where it belonged. A chill snaked over him. His wet clothes clung to his body; his toes squished in his boots.

"I'm going to light a small torch," Sir Gavin sniffed in a strong breath, "just 'til we find a place to camp. I won't burn it long. Any light is a beacon to every living thing."

Achan bumped into Sir Caleb's back. Sparrow ran into his. Apparently they were stopping. Achan focused on the sounds of Sir Gavin digging through his pack but pecking distracted him. Could it be a woodpecker? Some kind of cricket?

A torch hissed into a green flame. Achan's eyes widened at the brightness. Spots flooded his vision until he blinked them away. In the green glow, Sir Gavin's wrinkled face resembled a dried pear. His hair and frizzy braided beard looked like freshly shorn wool that needed washing. And his eyes-one blue, one brown-shone like emerald and bronze. Achan scanned the charcoal surroundings. Spindly trees rose around them, a forest of gnarled branches that appeared burned, like the dead side of the memorial tree in Allowntown.

"How is it your torch is dry?" Sparrow asked.

"It's not," Sir Gavin said. "I've a few torchlights made from sulfur and lime. Bought them from a Jaelportian vendor at the market in Mahanaim. They burn even when doused in water. Different colors too." He pointed left. "In the forest will be best."

The knight moved away, and the rope pulled the group along single file. Achan followed Sir Caleb, eyes fixed on the allown tree painted on the shield draped over Sir Caleb's back.

Sir Gavin and Sir Caleb were the only two who carried shields. Achan's sword, Eagan's Elk, was long enough to be wielded two-handed, like the longsword Inko carried. Inko also had a bow. Sparrow had a dinky little arming sword. More like a long dagger.

An occasional black shadow scurried up the twisted trunks. What kind of creatures lived in such a place? Achan used to believe nothing could live here until, at the recent tournament, he'd met people who'd come from cities in Darkness.

A prickle on his torso reminded him of Sir Caleb's leeches. Heat flashed over him. He pressed his fingers to his side and felt a hard lump beneath his clothing. His limbs twitched. Heart stampeding, he released the rope and pulled up his jerkin and shirt. The rope slid past his thigh. Sparrow knocked into his back and yelped.

Achan scratched off the slug-like attachment and flung it away. Squirming, he drew his fingers across his stomach and found another hard lump.

Pig snout.

"What are you doing?" Sparrow asked.

"Leeches. There are leeches all over me." Achan plucked the second one off and found another on his chest. "Ahh!"

Sparrow cried out. Achan turned to find the boy patting his legs through his trousers. His eyes widened in the green light as they met Achan's chest.

"You see another?" Achan asked.

Sparrow pointed a shaking finger at Achan's armpit. Achan lifted his arm, but a hand on his back stopped him.

"Leave them for now, Achan," Sir Caleb said, his voice commanding. "Don't pull them off like a madman, lest they leave their teeth in you."

Achan froze, hands above his head, and took a deep breath. His clothing shifted, then dropped back into place. He swallowed and faced Sir Caleb. "Leave them?"

"They'll do no harm. We'll get them off when we stop, if any are still there."

Sir Gavin's moustache arched into a frown. "Just a few more moments, I promise you."

Achan nodded, still panicked at the idea of the creatures sucking his blood, even more alarmed that those he'd removed might have left their teeth in his skin.

"They do not leave teeth in you." Sparrow's shaky voice came soft behind him. "But if you pull them too fast, they tend to retch. It's the excess saliva under your skin that leaves a rash or swells-" Sparrow squealed and plowed into Achan's back again.

A creature fluttered past Achan's ear, brushing his hair with its wing. Achan ducked, pulse racing. A moth the size of a pigeon flapped wildly in the green glow.

"That is disgusting." Sparrow's voice cracked. "I hate this place. I hate it!"

Achan had to agree. He gripped the rope and straightened, keeping his eyes on the overgrown insect. The rope inched forward. So did Achan. They approached a grove of trees. The crooked branches above twisted together, forming a tunnel and forcing the moth to fly above the briary canopy.

Good riddance.

The trees grew thick and tangled, like a gnarled cage. Achan squinted at the smooth clay beneath his feet. They seemed to be on a game trail. As long as no one was hunting them now…

Sir Gavin ducked under low branches and crept on, tugging the rope along. Achan squeezed between slippery branches. His hair snagged on stiff twigs, ripping out wisps and leaving drips of slime running down his forehead. He wiped the gunk away with his free hand and found it sticky, like pitch.

Sir Gavin stopped suddenly and drove the torchlight into the ground. They were in a clearing the size of two small cottages. The ground was carpeted in soppy, grey moss. The tree branches were tight overhead, almost like a thatched roof.

Sir Gavin shrugged off his pack and shield, catching them before they hit the ground. "I sense humans to the west, which is in the direction of Mirrorstone. We must get there as soon as possible, but it's still a two-day journey on foot."

He propped his pack and shield in the branches of a tree on the perimeter. "We've only four bedrolls, so we'll take turns on watch using our ears, noses, and minds." He pointed behind Sparrow. "Privy is on that end, dinner and sleep is down here by me. Put your packs in the trees to let them dry. Be quick about it. The sooner this torch is out, the better."