“We’re going in circles?” Kraghtol asked with onsetting alarm.
“Yes and no,” Valir said and gesticulated accusingly at the tree. “We have definitely come across this tree here. But I think I would remember that purple fern right next to it. As I said, it’s giving me a headache.”
“Perhaps it’s just a similar tree then,” Kraghtol suggested without being fully convinced himself. He hadn’t noticed the tree, but that was because his attention had been captured by another oddity for the last hours. Nestled between the ferns and grasses was a surprising amount of wild herbs, ranging from the moisture-loving Mossfern to Bitterleaf, which he would not have expected in this dim light. But above all, the area was positively overgrown with Mandrake plants, reminding Kraghtol of the old man’s comment about them.They are friendly. Whatever that meant.
The uneasy feeling Valir had described took root in the half-orc as well and added to his generous basket of worries. He was sure the orderkeepers had to be right behind them, and half-expected to spot a red jacket behind every gnarly tree. He felt watched, as if a thousand eyes were silently judging him, only waiting for an opportunity to betray him. While part of his mind was screaming at him to turn around right now, his heart beat faster, and a strange euphoria took hold of him the deeper they ventured into the swamp. It was as if hewas getting closer and closer to something he had longed for his whole life, and Kraghtol wondered what it was.
While Dagna didn’t share his strange enthusiasm, it was clear that she was driven forward by her curiosity. Valir, on the other hand, didn’t fare so well. He was uncharacteristically quiet and clenched his hands and teeth when he thought nobody was watching. The noble was probably afraid, and Kraghtol felt bad for dragging him into this.
There was no turning back now, though. The second time they made camp, one and a half days after entering the swamp, Kraghtol spotted the distinct blood-red color of their pursuers from his lookout on a tall tree. Four orderkeepers were leaving their horses with a fifth bloodjacket and entering the Shifting Swamp behind them.
Chapter 15
Demon
Traversing the bog had not been easy before, but now that they were actively being followed, they had to hurry, too. The sky was overcast, and a wet fog filled the space between the trees and bushes, making every step treacherous and every mistake potentially life-threatening. They didn’t have the luxury of staking out the ground in front of them carefully anymore, and more than once, Kraghtol, who had taken the lead, found greedy mud slurping at his boots. If it hadn’t been for Valir and Dagna, he would have been claimed by the swamp by now.
The one good thing about the difficult terrain and the fog was that they were effectively hidden from sight. The bloodjackets in pursuit would have to follow their tracks, which, admittedly, was easy enough. Neither of them knew how to cover them properly, and given the soft ground and dense foliage, Kraghtol wasn’t even sure if it was possible at all.
However, what was true for their pursuers was also true for them. They were effectively blind and deaf and had no way of knowing if theorderkeepers were still far behind or just around the next corner. And they were at an advantage, as Dagna pointed out after they had just been forced to backtrack their last half hour of marsh because of an impassable bog hole.
“Every time we do that, they are getting closer,” she stated matter-of-factly. “If we assume them to be about as quick as we are, and at least somewhat adept at reading tracks, they don’t need to follow our wrong turns. If there are tracks leading back the way they came, it was obviously a wrong turn. They just caught up a whole hour.”
Valir swatted a mosquito and made a disgusted sound as it splattered against his thigh. “Well, thank you for explaining the math behind our shitty situation. You surely have an equally clever solution for that problem, I presume?”
The noble’s mood had gotten sourer every day, and Kraghtol was sure he was about to snap soon.
“Pointing out a problem has merit, even if no solution is apparent, and —”
Valir laughed dryly. “You want me to point out problems, too? Gladly! There’s death by drowning in front of us, death by blade behind us, the fucking swamp is all wrong and creeping me out, and my head aches as if it is about to explode at any moment. Take a pick. Or do you want me to go on?”
Dagna might have been an unusual dwarf, but she was still a dwarf. And when she stopped and put her hands on her hips, she looked every bit like the other citizens of Bronzebreak they had met.
“Well, how about you start actually contributing at some point? All I hear from you are complaints!”
Kraghtol tried to tune out the erupting argument. Dagna wasn’t wrong, but then again, being here was especially hard for Valir because…
He stopped. There was this feeling again, the one he had already felt once, in Bronzebreak. There was a profound insight right here within reach. He took a deep breath and tried the thought again.
It was hard for Valir to be here because…it was against his nature. Yes! He felt it too, just like it had felt in the dream! The whole swamp was deeply upsetting for him, too. But not all of him. The… Krasen part, his human half that had remained when the alchemical potion had hidden away all the rest,hatedthis place for its confusing and shifting layout. The other half of him feltat home. It was an equally deep-rooted feeling, like when he had touched the fire and water columns in his dream.
His eyes grew wide. Humans loved Order. The Principle of Order, to be exact. That was the important realization! What if every race had, what was the word? Resonance! What if every raceresonatedwith a specific Principle? Humans liked Order. Dwarves Within.Aniriel couldn’t have broken the metal seal at all!The strong and stable metal was surely associated with the Within Principle, so Elves resonated with Without. And if the other half of him, the one that wasnothuman, felt so good about this place, that meant… Orcs resonated with Chaos!
It was true. He knew it. And if itwastrue, they had tried to navigate the swamp all wrong. He closed his eyes and tried to do something he had avoided for his entire life: to give in to the chaotic side of his mind. It felt so wrong to let go of the guards he had built all his life inorder not to let out ‘the orc’ within him, but oddly liberating as well. A million fragments of sensory input flooded his mind all at once. The voices of his companions arguing. A shivery feeling of fog on his skin. Frogs croaking. The itch of a mosquito sting on his arm. The brackish taste and smell of the bog.
Only after a few heartbeats did he dare to open his eyes again. Colors and shapes caressed his senses, and his focus jumped from one sensation to the next, for once not hindered by his will. The trees. His hand. The plants. The plants!
“I know where to go!” he exclaimed so loudly the other two fell silent.
“Excuse me, what?” Valir asked with irritation but stopped bickering.
“The Mandrakes. They’re friendly, like he said. There’s a pattern in where they grow and where they don’t. We just have to follow that pattern!”
“So, the ground is safe where they grow?” Dagna asked.
“Yes. No. It’s more complicated than that.” Kraghtol didn’t even know how to describe it. “They strive towards the center. I think I can follow them.”
He could — although even after multiple days, he still wasn’t able to say how. He didn’t have the luxury of thinking about it a lot, since even though he was able to tell the general direction they needed to follow, he still had to stay vigilant for everything the swamp threw at them. One wrong step would be enough to cost them precious minutes of lead at best, and their lives at worst. That they allowed themselves only the shortest of rests didn’t make the constant attention any easier, too.
