The Flame Weaver

by Elicker, Tania

  “Kazen! No!” Ilagon shouted.

  Able to feel the tiniest ripple in the water, the snake stopped flailing and turned its good eye to face the water. With a devious flip of its tongue, the creature dove into the depths in search of its painfully well-earned meal.

  Kazen found the bottom of the pool easily enough; it was not nearly as deep as he worried it might be. Unable to see in the murky water, he used his hands to feel around in the sticky mud. He was just about to go up for air when his hand brushed across the sharp edge of his sword. Elated, Kazen grabbed the hilt and headed for the surface, but was abruptly jerked back down again.

  The serpent had taken hold of Kazen’s sword and began pulling him helplessly through the water. Kazen clung to his sword. He feared to let go, knowing the creature could then easily swing its massive head about and swallow him whole. His lungs burning, he knew he could not hold on forever, but he also knew he had little chance of making it to the surface alive. Expelling his last bubbles of air, he had just begun to loosen his grip when the serpent made a sudden dash for the surface.

  Kazen gasped for air as the giant serpent burst out of the water. Dangling helplessly, he clung to his sword, still clenched tightly between the serpent’s powerful jaws. He could only watch as his friends tried futilely to penetrate the snake’s scaly armor.

  “Let go of the sword, Kazen!” Ilagon yelled.

  Reluctantly, Kazen released his grip and fell to the soft ground. Ilagon rumbled a low chant, and the air began to itch with a strange, static charge. The surrounding cloud of fog ignited with a brilliant white flash as a bolt of lightning struck down from the heavens directly at the sword still clamped between the creature’s jaws. The great serpent postured and trembled as the lightning seared through its tender innards, roasting it from the inside out.

  Kazen rolled out of the way just as the snake’s giant head collapsed beside him. Black smoke billowed from the serpent’s mouth, the sword still clenched between its fangs. The foul smell of burning flesh filled the air. Kazen grabbed at his blackened sword but it was still blazing hot. He kicked at it until it finally fell from the serpent’s jaw and onto the wet ground with a sizzle.

  “I hate snakes.” E’enna shivered with disgust, peering down at the shriveled beast.

  “Well, after almost being one’s breakfast, I can’t say I’m particularly fond of them myself,” Shanks said. “Good thinking with that sword, Kazen,” he mocked, tousling Kazen’s hair. “Can’t say I would have ever thought of that myself.”

  Kazen chuckled back sarcastically. Using the corner of his cloak, he picked up his sword and wiped the black soot off the blade on the leg of his pants. Turning, he was caught by Ilagon’s livid gaze.

  “That was the most ridiculously stupid thing I have ever seen,” he scolded. “How am I to keep you safe when you are so eager to throw yourself in the way of danger?”

  “I’m sorry, Ilagon. I was only trying to—”

  Before Kazen could finish, he was swept up in Ilagon’s tight embrace. Ilagon held him tightly for a moment and then patted him on the back with a heavy sigh. “Please, try to be more careful. If anything were to happen to you . . .” He looked tenderly at Kazen who had shown so much courage in the face of great peril. Clearing his throat, he slapped Kazen playfully on his cheek. “Well, enough of that. Let us make haste out of this wretched marsh. Perhaps dry land will be awaiting us before sunset.”

  They quickly gathered what they could salvage of their disheveled belongings. Much had been lost to the swamp during the scuffle. They kept to their northern heading as best they could, with the mossy path often winding inconveniently to the east or west. Dismal mist hung heavily over them throughout the day. The only suggestion that the sun still hovered overhead was a blurred white apparition that struggled weakly to shine through the milky haze.

  Soggy mud clung to their feet and legs, weighing them down. Uneven terrain and deceiving paths sent one or two of them stumbling into the rank water at least once an hour, the stale, tepid water offering little relief against the sweltering environment of the stagnant bog.

  Kazen gave up swatting at the swarms of mosquitoes that stalked them every painstaking mile. For every one that he killed it seemed ten more would take its place. The party was covered in painful, swollen welts that itched so badly it was near maddening at times. All but E’enna, that is, whose healing ability seemed to make her immune to the insect’s poison.

  With their food and water supplies almost depleted, the urgency to escape from the foul-smelling bog was felt by all. By late afternoon, Kazen’s throat was parched and scratchy. Though surrounded by water on every side, it was unthinkable to imagine actually drinking from the oil-slicked swamp. As far as rations went, he saw nothing in the mire that he would consider edible. Occasional mushrooms sprouted here and there, but everyone was sure to stay clear. Mounds of insect corpses and dead lizards around the red-and-white dotted fungus were a telltale sign of deadly poison.

  Nightfall came and the group settled down on a small, sodden islet. With no fuel for a fire, the night was as black as obsidian. E’enna and Shanks had volunteered to take first watch, but without the glow of a comforting fire, it was clear no one was going to be getting much sleep.

  They sat back to back in a small circle, their weapons at the ready. The black night played tricks on their senses, making them see bits of light where they knew there was none, and twisting the sounds around them. Disturbing clicks and chatters of awakening nocturnal insects replaced the familiar buzz of bothersome gnats. The mosquitoes, however, seemed tireless and continued their assault on the weary party throughout the night.

  When the darkness became too unbearable, Kazen used his magic to spark a tiny sphere of fire in his palm. Although it emitted very little light, everyone gratefully huddle around the minute flame. Even Ilagon said nothing about the unwarranted use of magic. Unfortunately, Kazen could only hold the flame for a short while before the pain became too great. He was forced to snuff the fire and send them all back into the perpetual darkness.

  Hours passed with no one uttering a word, for even a quiet whisper seemed too harsh as to disturb the still blackness. Kazen’s eyes grew weary and he felt his head begin to nod. He struggled to stay awake but found he could no longer tell if his eyes were open or closed. Resting his chin on his chest he finally gave in and allowed himself to fall into a shallow sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Kazen groaned as he awoke with a cramp in his leg and a numb backside. His breath caught in his throat when he realized that the others were all asleep, meaning no one had been on watch last night. Though, peering into the thick mist, he supposed there was little danger of any demon hounds pursuing them. Even a creature of shadow would not likely care to enter such a stinking area.

  Perhaps he was growing accustomed to the stench of the mire, but the smell did not seem quite as potent that morning. The fog was just as thick, however, and the glare of the sun piercing through the white haze was near blinding.

  On either side of the mossy path, tangled branches from dozens of drowned trees reached out like bony, decrepit hands from under the murky water. Their lifeless, soggy limbs stretched up toward the sky, seeming to yearn, even in their petrified death, for unpolluted air. Kazen wondered how many villagers’ bodies lay beneath the surface, and like the trees, longed to be set free from their wretched tomb. He shuddered at the very thought.

  Digging through his pack, he pulled out the last few slivers of dried meat. He nudged the others awake and handed them each their tiny portion. Shanks found a last brick of flatbread in the bottom of his pack and split it between the group. The meat was brackish and the bread was dry and chalky, but no one complained. They sipped modestly at their dwindling water skins, careful not to spill a drop.

  “Ilagon,” Kazen said, helping to gather their few scattered belongings, “how did you do that, yesterday?”

  “Do what?”

  “How did you summon lightning? I
thought you only had power over solid rock.”

  Ilagon smiled. “As a wizard, Kazen, you must learn to think outside the realm of what you think you know. Lightning, for instance, does not strike down from the sky to randomly riddle the land. It is, in fact, the rocks and soil that pull the lightning down from the sky. It is all part of the circle that keeps the world in balance. As a Rock Tamer, I have learned to call upon the specific minerals that attract lightning, and thus encourage it to strike in a general area.”

  “A general area? You mean you did not command the lightning to strike the sword?”

  “Lightning does not work that way.” Ilagon laughed.

  Kazen gaped at him. “That could have been my head!”

  “Well,” Ilagon replied, grinning, “lucky for us your sword was more conductive than your head.”

  They traveled on as swiftly as possible. With no food left they would have to cross as much distance as they could while they still had the strength. Even now, Kazen’s stomach grumbled. The small morsel of food he had that morning had done little to satisfy his empty belly.

  Stopping for a short rest, Kazen was unable to resist the urge to scratch feverishly at the swollen bite marks on his arms. Although it was almost equally as painful as it was relieving, he sighed in complete rapture. Ilagon slapped at his hand and reminded him that scratching would only worsen the bites. Of course, Ilagon was right. Kazen dug his hands deep into his pockets to keep from scratching his arms, which now throbbed and itched more than ever.

  Catching a glimpse of himself in the black water, Kazen barely recognized his own reflection. Like all the others, his clothes and face were almost completely covered in mud and filth. His face was thinner and his whiskers a bit fuller, adding a few years to normally youthful appearance. There was something else different that he just couldn’t put his finger on. The face was his, but the eyes seemed somehow different—someone else seemed to be staring back from behind his own eyes. A sudden cold chill ran up Kazen’s spine and he fell back from the water’s edge.

  “Are you all right?” E’enna asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine. I think the heat is getting to me.”

  E’enna looked up at the sheet of fog that hung over their heads. “Yes, it’s ridiculously hot here. I fear if we don’t find a way out of here soon we’ll all just melt away.”

  Kazen chuckled. “Well I suppose that might be more pleasant than starving to death. I know it has not been terribly long without rations, but those mushrooms are looking tastier by the second.”

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “I know,” Kazen said, with a sigh, “but a steaming bowl of vegetable stew with big hunks of meaty mushrooms would surely do me good right about now.”

  E’enna smiled. “You shouldn’t torture yourself, or me, for that matter.”

  “Come on you two!” Shanks yelled from up ahead. “Let’s move out!”

  Kazen and E’enna hurried to catch up with Shanks and Ilagon.

  They trudged along in single file as the winding path narrowed to no more than a foot’s width. Kazen was just about to leap over a small gap in the trail when he heard the not-so-distant cackle of a black crow. His heart leapt. It was the call of a land bird. Never had the shrill cry of the pesky scavenger ever sounded so sweet.

  The group froze in their tracks and held their breath. How long they waited, Kazen could not tell as the silence pounded in his ears. Suddenly, the silence shattered as an entire flock of crows burst into flight, flapping and fluttering as they bellowed their chorus of squawks and screeches.

  The party bounded ahead, stumbling and splashing over the slippery path. They stopped and gazed in wonder as the mist parted before them and revealed a horizon of ginger-colored rocky hills.

  “These hills mark the borders of Crenin Non.” Ilagon sighed with relief. “We are almost there.”

  “We’ll have to swim these last few yards,” Shanks said as he plunged, without hesitation, into the vile water and started paddling toward the gravelly beach. “Come on in!” he called back to the others. “The water’s fine, if you don’t mind the stench and the man-eating toads!” He laughed as he backstroked to shore.

  Ilagon dove in with a splash and quickly waded to the other side. E’enna and Kazen looked at each other warily. Kazen wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was. In every story he had ever read, the heroes always seemed to face the greatest peril right when they were at arm’s reach of safety.

  However, before he could begin to dream up the hideous creatures that could be lurking under the dark water, E’enna gave him a hard nudge with her elbow. Kazen toppled over, landing with a loud slap as his back smacked the surface of the water. His lower back stinging, Kazen resurfaced and glared at E’enna with one eye. With an innocent shrug of her shoulders, she jumped in after him, being sure to make as big a splash as she could in his face. Swatting and splashing at each other, the pair cackled and howled all the way to the rocky beach.

  Kazen laid out sluggishly on the dull rocks and pebbles that lined the shore. Like someone had lifted a curtain, the bright sun was revealed and shined down warmly on his sallow face. The reek of the musty swamp still lingered, but the new air was fresh and light. A gentle breeze rolled over Kazen and he shivered under his soaking clothes.

  As happy as he was to be out of the bog, Kazen realized this place did not look much more inviting. Hills of loose, orange-stained rocks went on for miles. There were no trees or shrubs. In fact, aside from a few tufts of crabgrass that crept up occasionally, there seemed to be no vegetation at all.

  “Kazen!” Shanks called. “Come here, lad, see what you can do with this.”

  Shanks had a pile of damp twigs and leaves that he had collected from a decomposing tree, which had washed up on the shore.

  Kazen looked doubtfully at the pitiable kindling. “Ilagon does not like me to use my magic if I don’t have to,” he timidly admitted.

  “Bah!” Shanks scoffed. ”And how are you supposed to get better at it if you don’t use it? Besides, just a whisper of magic will do! It’s only wet on the surface, you know. Come on then, let’s see what you can do.”

  Peering nervously over his shoulder, Kazen held his hands over the pile of kindling and whispered a few syllables. A red glow radiated from his palms, and before long a thin feather of smoke began to spiral up from the soggy wood.

  “That’s it, boy! Keep it up!”

  Kazen continued whispering between clenched teeth as the pain in his hands swelled. Gray smoke bellowed from the kindling and the musty smell of wet, smoldering wood filled the air. His arms twitching, Kazen could bear the pain no longer. He finally dropped to his knees, clutching his hands to his chest.

  Shanks slithered on his belly over to the kindling and blew on the smoking twigs. Just a tiny glow at first, and then, miraculously, orange flames flared up and lapped at Skanks’ face. The growing fire sparked and sizzled with massive clouds of smoke as Shanks carefully added larger logs.

  “Well, it ain’t the prettiest thing, but it’ll do well enough to dry our clothes,” Shanks said, slapping Kazen on the back. “Now, everyone off with their shoes. We’ve been trudging through that sludge for I don’t know how many days, and I’m sure E’enna would greatly appreciate it if she didn’t have to heal anyone’s foot rot.”

  E’enna made a sour face as everyone sat down around the hissing fire. Kazen kicked off his shoes and grimaced at the sight of his pale, shriveled feet. He inched closer to the fire and wiggled his wrinkled toes in front of the wavering flames. Ilagon removed his boots and cursed aloud when he found half a dozen leeches attached to each foot. Taking up a smoldering twig, he singed the fat bloodsuckers one by one and watched them drop off into the fire.

  “I know we are all tired,” Ilagon said as he shook out his boots and placed them by the campfire. “But there are still more than a few hours of daylight left. I believe that we should continue on. Though we are near to our destination, the city may not
be easy to find. These hills hide many things. The more distance we can put in today, the sooner we will reach Crenin Non.”

  “Aye,” Shanks agreed. “And the sooner we get to fill our empty bellies. I’m all for pressing on. These forsaken hills look as barren as a desert; the sooner we get past them the better.”

  Kazen and E’enna nodded in agreement.

  After a short rest, they reluctantly slid their soggy shoes back on and headed off for Crenin Non. The going was very slow and exhausting. The hills themselves were not terribly high or steep but the loose rocks were small and round, causing the party to sink to their ankles with every step. They also had to be careful to space themselves out, less they bury each other with sliding stone avalanches brought on by slipping feet or groping hands.

  Kazen had often heard that one should be careful for what one wishes for. He’d never really understood what the expression meant until that afternoon. For days, all he could do was wish for dry land and to be out of that miserable swamp. Hacking and coughing at the dry dust that wafted off the torrid hills, he realized that he had most certainly gotten his wish.

  A constant breeze kept the conditions tolerable under the bare sun. The crude smell of dirt and rock was heavy in the air. Curious brown birds with long skinny legs followed the travelers over the hills, kicking and scratching at the upturned stones, gobbling up various insects that had been rousted. Kazen thought briefly about trying to catch one of the awkward birds for dinner, but the amount of meat on their scrawny frames would not have been worth the effort.