“Keep to the back southern roads. Travel well, and may you return to me quickly, my love.” Moira waved as Neeve and Brea charged into the night.
They rode hard for several silent hours before Neeve took the east road toward the marshes. Brea could smell a hint of brine in the air. It reminded her of the ocean she’d once visited with her family. In the years before her sanity issues became a big problem, her family used to take a rare vacation every few years. Some of her fondest memories with her family were from that vacation to the beach.
Neeve slowed to a stop when the road ran out. “This is where I leave you.” She slipped down from her horse. “I have to get back to the palace before sunrise, so I must hurry.”
Brea stared into the darkness ahead. Fear gripped her as she dismounted her horse. She would have to travel the rest of the way on foot. The marsh was too dangerous for a horse.
“I’m afraid, Neeve,” Brea whispered.
Neeve took both of her hands in hers. “Look at me.”
Brea lifted her chin, meeting Neeve’s cool gaze.
“You are strong, Brea Robinson. You haven’t come of age yet, so I don’t think you realize how strong you really are. Regan fears that kind of inner strength. She wanted to stifle it. To put you in a position with no power. As her heir’s wife, you would be nothing more than a pretty face. Just another prisoner. You can do this, Brea. You have to.”
“What if I get lost?”
“You won’t.” Neeve searched through her pack, coming up with a bottle of oil. “Keep heading east, and if you should lose your compass, look for the brightest star in the sky and keep it directly overhead.” Neeve flicked the contents of the bottle, spritzing Brea from head to toe in the foul-smelling stuff.
“Ugh, what is that awful smell?”
“It will keep the creatures at bay.”
“Creatures?”
“Go, Brea.” She pressed a lantern into her hands, speaking the words of power to light it and gave her a gentle shove. “Head east until you reach the Eldur camps. Don’t stop. Don’t sleep. Keep going. You should make it there by morning.”
Brea nodded, taking a deep breath before she flung herself into Neeve’s arms. “Thank you. I’ve never had many friends, but you are one of them. I hope to see you again someday.”
With that, Brea lifted her lantern and headed into the grim forest of creepy cypress trees, hanging moss, and lots of mud. It squelched under her feet as she walked. Glancing back over her shoulder, Neeve had already gone.
“It’s just me and the marsh.” Brea checked her compass and set her path for east.
The first mile was easy. The second mile was pretty bad, but the third mile was the stuff of nightmares. Brea stood in mud up to her knees, searching for semi-solid ground in the dim glow of the lantern. Her arm ached from holding it in front of her, but she was terrified of the dark.
Mosquito-like creatures buzzed around her face. They continued to dive-bomb her, drinking her blood until she slapped them against her skin, crushing their vile little bodies, covering her in mushed bug goo and blood.
“Oh my gosh.” Brea stumbled back, putting as much distance between herself and the slithering creature she’d just encountered. “I hate snakes!” She shouted into the darkness. “Fairy land should have no snakes. That’s like a rule somewhere.”
Lifting her foot out of the squelching mud, she took a step forward, her knees screaming in protest from the push and pull on her joints. Her left foot found firmer ground, and she nearly sobbed in relief.
Brea pulled herself up onto the mossy bit of ground, tempted to take a rest, but she’d promised Neeve she’d keep moving, and she’d barely begun. Taking just a moment to rub some life back into her knees, Brea stood, her body protesting.
“Maybe I could sit here long enough to eat something.” She reached for her pack, taking a sip of water from her canteen. Something moved in the deep water near her somewhat-dry perch. Something large. Brea fumbled to put her canteen back in her pack and searched her surroundings for the quickest path.
A snapping turtle struggled out of the water, and she sighed, slumping against the tree at her back.
“That was—“ Brea’s heart stopped as a pair of massive jaws appeared out of the water and closed around the turtle.
The second creature chomped on its crunchy meal and slithered out of the water. It looked like a huge lizard and an alligator had a really ugly dragon-baby. Brea stood rooted to the spot as the creature’s tail stretched out behind it. It had to be twenty feet long. She almost peed herself when it lifted its head toward her, flicking its long tongue as if to taste the air around her.
“Please be full from your turtle snack,” she whispered, unable to move. She had nowhere to go anyway. She eyed the trees around her, wondering if she could climb if it came to that. Not a tree branch in sight low enough for her to reach.
The creature hissed a warning, showing its massive razor sharp teeth before it ambled away. She swore it wrinkled its nose in disgust.
“Thank you, Neeve, for making me stink.” Brea wasn’t sure her heartbeat would ever return to normal. She stared at the creature until she couldn’t see it anymore. “Get it together, Robinson.” She reached for the lantern at her feet. Her hands shaking as she wondered how many of those things were out there.
Her body said, “I live here now,” but her mind disagreed. Taking a careful step off the mossy perch, the tension in Brea’s shoulders eased some. Solid ground.
With her compass guiding her way east, Brea moved as quickly as her feet would allow her, ever mindful of what she might step on. Nocturnal creatures were out and about, making a ruckus all around her. Insects and small furry creatures she could handle. Even the orange salamanders that scurried about didn’t bother her.
Owls hooted and fish splashed in the ponds. She even heard the distant growl of a very large cat she hoped she wouldn’t encounter. As the ground grew soft again, Brea searched for an alternate path. She didn’t want to end up in mud up to her knees again.
Her stomach growled, and she thought of the food Neeve packed for her. Setting her lamp down, Brea rushed to retrieve the bacon sandwiches from her pack. Just a quick bite, and she’d be on her way again. Resting against a cypress tree, she ate quickly. Feeling better with something in her stomach, Brea leaned her head back against the tree, sipping from her canteen.
“No crazy swamp dragons here.” She shoved off the tree and hauled her pack up on her shoulder. Leaning down for her lantern, something heavy and scaly landed on her back.
Brea screamed, throwing the huge snake across the swamp. The slithering, hissing black snake landed with a thud. It was huge and angry. Brea took a step back and stumbled over her lantern. Darkness fell all around her as her only light source went out.
“No!” Brea nearly wept.
Hissing sounded nearby, and she wasn’t waiting around for the snake to find her or call his buddies in for a group attack. Clutching her compass, Brea followed the path of semi-solid ground until it ran out.
Within moments, the mud reached her calves, but she kept moving East. Without the lantern, the bugs had finally left her alone.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Brea laughed. “Of course it’s going to rain.” She threw her hands up toward the sky. “It’s certainly not wet enough around here.”