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 dwel 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 wanted 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 Hil but at least we wil 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 hil . 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 skul 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 wil 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 smal 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.
Sai sat at the base of the largest tree and leaned back, trying to get comfortable. “Why did I agree to do this?” she asked herself. “Oh yes, I’m a glutton for punishment.”
“Sai,” Hatch interrupted her thoughts as she cast wary glances about the gloomy hil , “how
about if you come clean about why you are doing this?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, sounding as incredulous and innocent as possible. “I want to
be cleared of my crimes and have a clean record in the kingdom.”
“You know what I mean. You were going to run off at Wildflower’s. You only stuck around
because of the witches’ attack, but you’re stil here now. That’s what I want to know. Why?”
Sai frowned at that. She didn’t usually have to answer to anyone. “Maybe I just want to make a
difference.”
Von Wilding scrutinized her as he dropped an armful of firewood. “It wouldn’t have anything
to do with looting Von Drakk mansion, would it?”
“Why? Does he have anything worth stealing?”
“Only broken dreams,” Von Wilding lamented.
Hatch shook his head, saying, “I want to believe people can change, but sometimes it’s hard. I
just want to know where you stand. Are you real y with us?”
Von Wilding grunted at that.
Sai snorted in argument toward Von Wilding.
“I do what I wanna do,” she said with a bit of venom.
Hatch nodded, then changed the subject. “You take the first watch? Wake me when the moon
is near the Dragon Star.”
“All right,” she answered reluctantly.
Once the others were asleep, Sai tossed the occasional twig on the fire to keep it alive. Orange
coals gave dim light but comforting warmth to her toes. They had lined their wet boots around the
fire to dry them. The desire to run away from the entire princess-rescuing business stil teased at her brain, but the foreign sounds of the swamp at night made a much stronger argument to stay put.
She nestled against the tree and found that she was as comfortable as she had ever been since
this journey began. That is, except for a rock that was poking her in the back, so she rolled over
slightly to readjust her sleeping position. It would be time to have Hatch take over soon enough, and
then she could relax and sleep.
Unfortunately, the spot she found had two rocks poking her like bony fingers on either side of her spine. She sat up against the tree and felt her hair cling to something. Reaching around, her hand caught hold of sticky webbing.
“Yuck!” she said, wiping away at the gossamer shroud. She adjusted herself again and tried to
get comfortable.
The fire had died down to only soft orange coals peeking out beneath black clumps. Sai thought
she heard something in the tree. Glancing up, a hairy thing moved gracefully amongst the leaves. It
scrambled over a limb and vanished. At least it wasn’t too big. Probably a squirrel.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
Then the thing plopped down on her bedroll from the limb above, soft and clumsy, like a
kitten. She could faintly see grey hair in the moonlight. It stalked up the blanket toward her.
Sai realized in horror this was no kitten. It had too many legs. It was the biggest spider she had
ever seen.
“Spider!” she screamed.
The huge arachnid’s myriad eyes caught the moonligh
t in hungry anticipation as it shambled up
Sai’s blanket. Fangs dripped venom while the spindly legs pinched through the covers.
She kicked beneath her blankets, sending the thing flying through the air, where it fel into the
red and grey coals. With a wretched twisting it caught fire and burned with a horrible stink.
Sai shook in disgust and loathing. Hatch and Von Wilding were up in an instant with blades
drawn.
“Where is it?”
“What happened?” they shouted in unison, glancing about for a foe.
“There, in the fire.” She pointed. The cringing form of the spider, large as her boot, smoked
with its legs curling skyward.
“Not even a very big one,” said Hatch, shaking his head as he sheathed his sword.
“What? It’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen,” Sai snapped.
“You’re a city girl,” retorted Hatch with a grin.
“You’ll see bigger tonight,” warned Von Wilding, directing their gazes to the top of the hil .
Something moved amongst the trees and underbrush. At first Sai thought it was one of the
stones resting half-sunken into the hil side, until she realized the tombstone-sized hunk of grey had
legs big as a man’s and was rapidly waddling toward them.
“Goddess preserve us,” muttered Sai as she drew her twin blades. Her eyes never left the glittering dark orbs of the giant spider.
“We need fire,” shouted Von Wilding.
Hatch said, “Sai. I’l attack its front. You port behind it and we’l take this thing down.”
She didn’t answer; she couldn’t look away from the spider’s eyes.
A sudden weight landed on her shoulder. She wheeled, blades slashing.
Hatch leapt away, a blade almost slicing his arm. “It’s me. We have to focus. Did you hear me?”
“I’m here!” Sai responded, glancing back to the spider.
Hatch held his longsword ready, while Von Wilding kindled a torch from the coals.
Sai found herself stepping back and away from the looming monster. Nothing had ever driven
such terror as this into her before. Those eyes—what is it about those glossy black eyes?
The spider crept forward, its legs scraping over stone and brush. About yard away from Hatch,
its mandibles opened, and a wretched cry echoed from its cavernous maw.
Hatch sent his blade crashing down, but it was battered away by the massive spider’s forelegs.
Von Wilding flashed his smal torch toward the multi-eyed face, but he too was cast aside. The
monster stepped toward Sai and she blinked away.
The spider rocked to-and-fro looking for her. She reappeared behind to plunge her daggers
down into its oily black abdomen. The blades only scratched its thick carapace, and instead of
turning to face its attacker, the spider shot silk out and lassoed Sai in a tangle of sticky webbing.
She tried to port away but was stil bound by the silk clinging to her body like a second skin.
The next spot she ported to, she unwil ingly fel against the ground. She couldn’t roll or stand.
A tiny spider the size of her thumb crawled up to her face as if it were a conqueror and waggled
its forelegs.
Sai spit and ported a short distance away, stil on her stomach and stil on the ground and stil
thoroughly unable to free herself. She could hear the others shouting and the ominous scraping of
the spider’s step.
Hatch shouted, “Give me a moment!”
Von Wilding snarled an unintel igible reply, sounding more beast than man, but renewed his
own attack.
Fumbling through his gear, Hatch produced a crossbow and bolt. Loading and cranking the
mechanism, he then placed a perfect shot right between the spider’s eight eyes.
The monster stiffened in stricken horror. Forelegs clasped the bolt biting into its brain and al its attention flew away from its present foes.
Both men launched an attack with their swords, hacking at the joints in the spider’s upraised
legs until three out of four nearest to them had been severed. Hairy half-limbs twitched in grass,
unaware they were unattached.
Hatch shouted and plunged his blade into the monster’s open jaws and drew the blade back
out, now black and wet with the spider’s gore.
Von Wilding continued his assault too, and the flaming branch in his left hand lit the feathered
shaft of the bolt aflame. Now the spider had a continual burning in its line of vision, rendering it
panicked and blind.
“Help me!” called Sai.
The monster tried to scuttle back and away but struggled on only five legs.
“Help me! I can’t move.”
“Where are you?” asked Hatch.
“Over here, in the cattails.”
“Don’t move! Be silent!” said Hatch.
“Why?” she asked.
The answer came lumbering over the top of her as the spider tried to retreat. She fought the
urge to port away from under the hairy abdomen, not wanting to land in water and drown. She
closed her eyes and prayed to the Goddess that the spider didn’t sense her and take a bite.
Sai held her breath.
A clawed foot pressed down on her shoulder and hesitated before moving.
Something grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up. Sai opened her eyes to look Hatch in the
face.
“This is sticky,” he said, trying to release his hand from her webbed shoulder.
“Get me out of this.”
Hatch ran his dagger down her side as gently as he could, cutting away the powerful silk. “Don’t
struggle, I don’t want to cut you, but I’m sure I’m cutting some of your leathers.”
“Just free me.”
A splash made her jerk and watch as Von Wilding continued his flame-prodding of the giant
spider into the swamp. It was clear the monster didn’t care for the water, but it was wounded, blind,
and fearful of the fire. It wal owed in the murk a few moments and went stil .
“I hate spiders,” growled Sai.
“Everyone does.”
She gave a slight smile of remembrance. “No, there was a boy named Mathias in my hometown
who loved them. He kept them as pets.”
“I’l bet he never had one like that,” said Hatch.
Sai grinned. “No, he didn’t, but I bet he would have liked to.”
Hatch grunted. “Wel , you get some sleep. I’m sure it’s my turn for watch by now.”
“No, it’s all right. I can watch a little longer.”
“You sure?”
Sai nodded as she tossed a few more twigs on the fire. “I couldn’t possibly fall asleep just yet.
Dead spiders stink.”
Chapter 8: The Witch Wealds
They traipsed through the Moor as fast as their sloshing wet boots would al ow, for the wet
earth seemed to forever be sucking and grasping at their feet to try and hold them in place a little
longer. Sai wondered if it was her imagination or if the Moor was truly that malevolent and desired
to keep them prisoner forever. Thankfully, the next day they reached relatively firm ground and
fol owed a trail that ran alongside the bank of a swamp while trees made a gloomy roof overhead.
“At least my feet may dry a bit,” remarked Sai to the others, breaking the silence of what had
seemed hours.
Von Wilding pointed ahead, saying, “We’l be crossing to the other side soon enough and your
boots wil get wet again. I try to dry them out every time we stop to keep off the swamp rot.”
“Off your boots?”
Von Wilding chuckled to him
self. “No. My feet. Having them be this wet all the time will
cripple a man, or Riftling, for that matter.”
She snorted at that, but the next time they stopped, she too took off her boots and socks and
tried to dry her feet thoroughly.
“Time to get moving again,” said Hatch.
“We just barely stopped for a rest,” complained Sai.
“We need to hurry. We only have a few hours of daylight left and need to find a good camp,
not to mention travel as far as we can—time is of the essence, and the Moor is doing its best to slow
us down.”
“You talk like it’s a person.”
“Not a person,” said Von Wilding, “but it is like a living thing, aware, hungry, and like many
other living things—evil. It would harm us whenever it can and slow our progress. We need to hurry
for the princess’s sake”
“What kind of princess goes and gets captured?”
“A brave one,” Von Wilding said.
Sai scowled, but got to her feet and followed the others along the misty path. She was of the
opinion that any princess who was sil y enough to get captured wasn’t likely to be a very great
warrior. And prophecy? Who needs it? Just another way to control people as far as I’m concerned.
She was grateful that they stayed on dry land for the next hour, but the fog and trees gathered
closer, making it near impossible to see more than a few yards in any direction.
“Wait,” said Von Wilding, holding his arm up as a gesture of silence.
“What is it?” asked Hatch in a whisper.
“I don’t recognize this wood,” he said softly.
“How can you tel ?” asked Sai.
“Look, ahead in those ash trees, a campfire and thatch dwel ings.”
“A town?”
“Maybe, but I think it might be worse.”
Sai chuckled. “Worse than a town? A hovel of huts?”
“We may have wandered into the middle of a witch weald.”
“What’s that?”
“A witch’s wood, their abode. We might even be surrounded by them already. We should
backtrack and get away from here swiftly as we can.”
Hatch grabbed Von Wilding’s shoulder. “No, we can’t waste time going back. We should attack.
It would be a surprise. Sai?”
“Bad idea,” Von Wilding said.
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