The Glauerdoom Moor Page 4

  Hatch shouted, “No! Sai!” He pulled away from Von Wilding’s grip and tried again, but the portal was shrinking incredibly fast.

  “She’s’ gone,” said Von Wilding. “I’m sorry.”

  The monster inside bellowed and then was silent as the portal winked out of existence.

  Chapter 5: The Moor

  Sai was seeing stars. No, not stars. Black birds wheeling far overhead in the steel gray sky. She was outside the tunnel. What a relief. She heard droning and slowly realized it was words. It was Hatch and Von Wilding somewhere nearby. She wanted to call to them but didn’t have the breath to speak yet.

  Hatch raged and kicked at a drooping tree not ten feet from where Sai lay in the reeds. “I should have been last.”

  “There was nothing else we could have done,” said Von Wilding.

  “That’s not a good enough answer for me,” Hatch countered angrily.

  Von Wilding looked away, somber as the Moor itself.

  Then they heard Sai’s soft coughing as her breath returned.

  The two men looked to each other, grins appearing where frowns had been worn hard.

  “I thought we lost you,” said Hatch, kneeling beside her.

  “And that would be a bad thing?” she asked with a smirk as she blinked at the Moor’s dim sunlight.

  “Yes, it would,” he said, helping her stand. “What’s in your hand?”

  She looked, and beside the dagger were grey hair-like strands that disintegrated into dust and blew away with the wind. “Eww, what was that thing?”

  Hatch answered, “I don’t know what kind of chimera or Ettin troll we fought, but I think whatever it was, it had been dead for a very long time.”

  “How did you make it?” asked Von Wilding.

  “I could still see a pinprick of light outside and I stretched for it as I was porting, not sure I would make it, but I had to try.”

  “Like a cat,” said Hatch.

  “I’d like to think I’m luckier than that. I used up nine lives a long time ago.”

  Taking a moment to get their bearings, they all saw the great, stretching Moor now. Misty miles upon misty, trackless miles of gloomy trees, watery bogs, and the buzzing of noxious insects were behind them, while the way forward was even murkier. Looks like I’m in this for the long haul now, better to stick with these do-gooders than try and walk all the way back to Crystalia. Who knows? Maybe I could get some wealth off of the rescue of these silly princesses in the process?

  “I’m back,” said Von Wilding as he inhaled deeply.

  “You say that like you’re grateful,” muttered Sai.

  “It’s my home,” he said. “I don’t expect everyone to see the beauty that I do. It was once a green and good land. Someday when I defeat Von Drakk, it will become so again.”

  “It’s still green,” said Sai. “Even if it is a slimy waste.”

  Von Wilding frowned at that.

  “Well, you know what I meant,” she said.

  Von Wilding snorted and walked on, scanning the edge of the Moor for the best place to wade through the murky waters. It wasn’t more than few good strides before the thick rolling fog hid him from view.

  “You were really worried for my sake?” Sai asked Hatch. She was reluctant to show interest, but it was so odd to her that she couldn’t resist bringing it up.

  He curled his lips as if tasting something unsavory, but nodded and said, “I wouldn’t want to lose anyone under my care. It’s my fault that Wildflower was attacked, and I’ll have to atone for that someday.”

  Sai blinked in surprise. “Maybe you’re too hard on yourself. You didn’t ask the witch coven to attack.”

  He looked at her and shook his head. “No, but I brought them to her door. She lived far away from everyone to avoid that kind of thing,” he lamented.

  Von Wilding called to them. “Over here. I think this is as good a place as any to cross.”

  They went toward the sound of his voice because they already had lost sight of him to the mist.

  “Not a good idea to shout like that,” said Hatch. “Not to mention wandering away without a word.”

  Sai chuckled. “Magic Swamp Man is lost already.”

  Hatch frowned. “Trust me, he knows his business. Usually.”

  “Mmmhmm.” She snickered.

  They stalked toward the sound of his voice and still didn’t find Von Wilding, but realized they were tromping through a pumpkin patch crawling with spindly green vines and large orange fruit. The smell was unwholesome and not at all like the usual rich, earthy scent of a garden.

  “I can’t see his tracks anymore because of this foliage,” Hatch said to himself as much as to Sai.

  “Where is he?” questioned Sai. “It sounded like he was down here.”

  “Keep your blades ready. Something is fishy,” growled Hatch. He drew his sword.

  They continued questing across the great patch with still no sign of Von Wilding.

  “Over here!” came Von Wilding’s voice once again, but this time from behind them.

  They looked to each other and turned back to go the other way.

  “Stay close. We can’t get separated,” said Hatch.

  Green creeper vines coiled about Sai’s foot and spun over her leg faster than a serpent’s strike. Before she could even cry out, wide, foul leaves smashed into her mouth. Hatch spun about, swinging his sword at the creepers, keeping himself free.

  Sai ported away, and the vines relaxed and moved toward her new position. She was ready for them and cut furiously at the attacking growth.

  “I think we know what happened to Von Wilding,” muttered Hatch as he sliced vines. He stomped a pumpkin and the vines fled away, unable to come back.

  “It looks as if we destroy the fruit, the vines retreat,” Sai said. She stopped cutting and ported on top of every pumpkin she could see, smashing them to pieces. In a few moments, no more vines were coming at them, at least within their own circle of the patch.

  “But where is Von Wilding?”

  “He must be nearby. Maybe those things can mimic his voice?” suggested Hatch.

  “I hear something,” said Sai as she peered into the shifting murk.

  Far into the mist, they heard a growl that burst into a roar. Something unseen was tearing through the patch and heading toward them. They looked to each other with their blades ready.

  “That sounded like a wolf,” said Hatch. “A big one.”

  They watched anxiously, but just before the thing reached them, the sound of footsteps softened, and Von Wilding came trotting toward them out of the drifting fog.

  “Where were you? I was hoping we lost you,” Sai said with a chuckle.

  “I missed you too,” he answered with a toothy grin.

  Hatch took Von Wilding’s shoulder, asking, “Did you see a wolf?”

  “Vines grabbed me. I got out. I didn’t see a wolf,” he said. “I hardly stepped beyond your line of sight when the vines got me. Some eldritch force animating them was able to mimic my voice. I tried calling out to warn you, but I couldn’t until I cut myself free.”

  Hatch gave him a slightly skeptical look but said, “Next time stay closer. We can’t afford to get split up again out here.”

  “I know,” Von Wilding said. “I think we can cross this way.”

  He led them over an exposed patch of the Moor and Sai noticed huge wolf prints in the soft earth. Sai pointed at them and Hatch nodded as they followed Von Wilding.

  They came to a reed-covered edge and Von Wilding stepped into the water. It reached his waist.

  “This is the best place to cross?” asked Sai dubiously, looking up and down the Moor.

  “It might not be the shallowest, but it’s the shortest, we’ll reach the other bank in time, and we shouldn’t have to cross water again for the rest of the day. I think,” said Von Wilding.

  “You think?”

  “I’m familiar with
this area, but the Moor changes sometimes. It has its own way.”

  Sai looked at the brackish green water. She couldn’t see into it any better than she could see through the ground.

  “Let’s go,” said Hatch as he too jumped into the water.

  Sai gritted her teeth and tried to gingerly step off the embankment into the bog, but she slipped and went face first into the water with a splash. She was up in an instant with a big water bug trying to paddle over her wet hair. Her two companions looked at her and tried not to smirk, turning their faces away.

  “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” she growled.

  They reached the other side and Sai began wringing her jacket and shirt of the foul water.

  “We’ve still got some daylight left, we should keep going,” said Von Wilding.

  Hatch held up a hand and asked, “Do you know a good place to camp, not too far from here?”

  “Not a good place,” admitted Von Wilding, “but a place, yes.”

  “How far?”

  “Maybe a mile or two. I think we can make it by around sundown. But it’s hard to tell in the Moor. It might already be later than I think it is.”

  “Let’s try then. As long as you think it’s safe.”

  “You’re never safe here. But some places are worse than others.”

  Sai finished squeezing her shirt and threw a leech away just as Hatch waved his arm to continue their journey. “Great. I’m all ready,” she said with dripping animosity.

  Chapter 6: The Will-o’-Wisp

  They moved in single file down a deer path that twisted like a snake through the foggy murk. Branches scraped at their heads and shoulders, and more than once, briars caught in Sai’s hair. She pulled them loose, gritting a curse through her teeth. Gradually the gray of the mist that covered everything like a sheet thickened into a blanket, limiting their vision to just a few steps ahead.

  Von Wilding cautioned them to check their pace and be aware of their surroundings.

  “You’ll let me know if you sense anything, won’t you?” asked Hatch.

  “Of course. The moment you step in quicksand. I’ll let you know,” she said. She was about to laugh when they saw a dancing, yellow light far out in the fog. “What’s that? Some other traveler?”

  “I doubt it,” Von Wilding whispered as he scanned the murk.

  “They are moving free and easy, seems they must be on a good path,” said Sai.

  “We don’t know who or what it is. I suggest we wait a moment for them to leave,” said Von Wilding.

  “Why?” asked Sai.

  “If they are friendly, they’re fine left alone but we don’t know that they’re not unfriendly either. It might be a trap,” said Von Wilding.

  “Trap? No one even knows we are out here,” protested Sai.

  Von Wilding gave her a chiding look but returned to watching the light bob along somewhere ahead of them, perhaps two dozen yards away.

  “I think it’s just a man, stuck in the mud,” said Sai.

  “I don’t,” grumbled Von Wilding.

  They each looked to Hatch. “It does seem like it could be baiting us,” he said.

  “Well,” suggested Sai, “how about I take a closer look?”

  “I don’t think that’s a very good idea. We shouldn’t split up where we can’t see each other again, and considering it’s Glauerdoom Moor, it’s probably a trap.”

  Sai rolled her eyes. “I’m going to look. It’s better than sitting here with you two sourpusses.”

  “Sai! Wait!” yelled Hatch. But she was gone, porting toward the light.

  Just fifteen feet away, the farthest she had ever ported yet, and she couldn’t see the others anymore. Ahead, the light still danced. She ported two more times, closing half the distance, but it didn’t feel like she was getting any closer. How was that possible? She ported ahead faster, sure she could catch whomever was holding the lantern. But each time, it was just as far away. She gauged that she had traveled at least seventy feet from the others, and the light remained just as far away. That was impossible, especially since it had been staying in one place for so long when they had watched it before. She stopped, and it stopped, but wavered back and forth, inviting, no, taunting her to continue the chase.

  She glared at the taunting light. More determined than ever, she blinked and ported, again and again.

  The light retreated farther into the gloom, but she was sure of one thing: she was gaining on it.

  She flew by trees with reaching limbs and over crooked little streams and frogs croaking in the gloom of twilight. Snakes slithered beneath her porting feet, and again and again she closed the distance.

  A being stood with its back to her. It wore a ragged, maroon cloak covered with eldritch sigils and held not a lantern, but a staff with a weak light perched at the top.

  Sai grabbed the being by the shoulder. “All right, you! What’s the game?”

  The cloaked being whirled around, and Sai was face to face with a red-eyed skull and its ravenous, chomping teeth. It lunged, shrieking insanely, a skeletal hand catching the edge of her shirt and pulling her close. A scythe-like blade swung out from the edge of the staff.

  Sai struck with her daggers. While the thing retreated a step, its crazed wailing only seemed to grow louder, throwing a wave of dizzying nausea over Sai like a poisonous cloud.

  She teetered and stumbled, trying to remain upright against this foul attack. Sai caught herself on a gnarled mossy tree. The hand of death stretched out, the wailing ringing in her ears like a bell.

  Sai waved her dagger back and forth, trying to ward the foe away.

  Its claw-like hand reached for her just as she ported away.

  Sai fled from the Death Spectre, racing each and every way in the Moor, the hunter now the hunted. The fear paralyzed her rational thought, and she flew through the Moor with no direction except escape. Just when it seemed she had evaded the thing, it was upon her heels yet again. She realized she was screaming. Beyond the wail of the specter, she thought she heard Hatch and Von Wilding calling to her.

  She turned once to look back at the chasing specter and saw its bony hand clamp down on her shoulder. She tripped on a root and her face hit the moist dirt.

  She turned around, screaming, fighting against the gripping hands, when she saw Hatch and Von Wilding standing over her.

  “Where is it?” She looked about wildly like a caged animal.

  “I don’t see anything,” said Hatch. “As soon as you ported away the light vanished. We heard you shouting on the ground and came to find you.”

  “It was the wisp,” said Von Wilding.

  “No,” she shook her head. “It was much worse. It was the screaming specter of death.”

  Her companions looked to each other dubiously. Von Wilding said, “We didn’t hear anything but you. Just the normal sounds of the Moor insects.”

  “Frogs, owls,” agreed Hatch.

  “You don’t believe me?” she asked accusingly as she stood and brushed the dirt and moss from her shirt. There was still a hint of daylight left. It wasn’t nearly as dark as it had seemed only moments before.

  “I’m sure you saw something, if only in the land of dreams,” said Von Wilding. “There are many things lurking there, and half of the dreamworld is nightmare.”

  “It seemed so real,” she said, rubbing at the bruise on her forehead. “I felt its cold hand upon mine. I felt the wind from its scythe when it nearly cut me in half.”

  “Best not to dwell too much on such things,” said Hatch.

  “That’s easy for you to say. I had the clammy hand of death on me, screaming in my ears.”

  Hatch looked at her and said, “So have I. We better continue with our mission.” He slung his belongings over his back and walked into the mist. Von Wilding nodded and went after him.

  She harrumphed and followed Von Wilding, continuing their trek through the shadowy undergrowth. Though she wante
d to be done with this business, the thought of that specter of death made her resolve to not venture from her companions again. Maybe it is good to have friends.

  Chapter 7: The Camp

  Bats flitted about in the gathering twilight and the sounds of the Moor grew louder in the encroaching dark. Frogs thrummed, crickets began their night songs, and everything seemed to voice its presence except the party of three trudging through wet ground, the mud sucking at their boots.

  “I hope that spot of yours is nearby,” said Hatch as he slashed a thick vine that blocked their path.

  “The ground rises up yonder. I have never camped on Attercop Hill but at least we will be above the waterline, a rare enough thing in this area of the Moor,” said Von Wilding.

  They marched along sullenly for another mile until the ground rose a few feet and a copse of dense trees surrounded a tiny hill. The few spots without trees growing had stones spouting forth out of the grass-covered slope like the knuckles of a stone giant’s hands.

  “I believe a sorcerer’s tower once stood here, but it was cast down long ago, thank the Goddess,” said Von Wilding.

  Hatch kicked a skull that lay close to his foot. “Seems to me that there are a lot of dead things here too.”

  Von Wilding shrugged. “The whole of the Moor is covered with dead things. It’s on this high ground alone that the remains haven’t sunk into the swamps yet. If you would rather we keep marching into the night, ankle deep in brackish water . . .”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” answered Hatch. “But we can’t let our guard down for a moment.”

  “In that we are agreed.”

  “This spot here will do for a fire,” said Hatch.

  “Is that safe?” asked Sai.

  Hatch looked to Von Wilding who gave a shrug but answered, “Fire can alert others to our presence, but also aid in keeping away most animals.”

  “And monsters?” she asked.

  “It wouldn’t matter if we had a fire or not for those.”

  Sai frowned.

  Hatch and Von Wilding gathered a bit of tinder, kindled a small blaze, and then unrolled their blankets. Hatch put a kettle over the fire while Von Wilding strode back out into the darkness to gather more wood.