Mochazon made his way toward us. Uli rested in his arms. She moaned but then closed her eyes, seeming at rest as the magic surrounded both her and the pixie man. Mochazon turned to the group, his piercing eyes a deep shade of yellow that seemed to blend into the swamp.
“Follow me closely. This is a dangerous path we follow. Do not stray, for once you do, it will be impossible for anyone to discover your whereabouts. This is a cursed land.” Fluttering his wings, he lifted off the ground, then flew to a section of the swamp where a narrow trail snaked around towering roots and through patches of inky black water.
We followed without speaking, which, for our group, was astonishing. The patter of Mochazon’s wings broke up the silence. Wide tree roots rose from the swamp, forming a dense canopy overhead. Our torches sputtered, and embers fell into the water, hissing as they hit the surface.
The humidity made my shirt and breeches cling to my skin, and my feet ached from walking all day. I had been looking forward to a long night’s sleep, but now it seemed that would never happen. It didn’t matter. I focused on Mochazon up ahead, carrying Uli as she slept. Her hair, braided with beads, clinked softly as he cradled her in his arms.
We traveled until I lost track of time. No one spoke. Kull stayed close to me, his eyes guarded as we crossed through the swamp. Now and again, the haunting calls of creatures echoed from the darkness, though I didn’t recognize most of the sounds. This deep into the swamp, many creatures had yet to be classified.
The path sloped downward and thick, curving branches hung low overhead. The network of dark, twisted roots along the path were sometimes so large we had to duck under them instead of clambering over them. The torches reflected off the smooth wood arching gracefully around us. When we emerged from the root cavern, I expected to see some variation in the scenery, yet the same monotonous black water and towering tree roots never changed. My mind conjured images of monsters waiting beneath the water, so I kept my eyes on the path ahead.
Kull rested his hand casually on the broadsword at his waist. Despite his relaxed attitude, his eyes were alert as he scanned the forest, looking for threats. His appearance and demeanor hinted at his strength. He stood a head taller than most of his men, and his iron-studded vest conformed to his muscled torso, enhancing his air of authority. He wore his customary dragon-hide boots—I still hadn’t asked where he’d gotten them—and his blond hair and striking blue eyes gave credence to his Viking ancestry.
Kull was male in every sense of the word. I couldn’t imagine any woman not being attracted to him, myself included, although he hadn’t always impressed me. When we’d first met, I’d believed him to be arrogant and overly self-assured. His reputation had aided in that image. But the more I’d gotten to know him, the more I’d seen how devoted he was to his family. He put them above all other obligations and would defend them to the death—a trait that was hard to find in a Wult man, or any man for that matter. He’d refused a chance at battle—unheard of among Wult warriors—to come out here and search for his sister.
Heidel had left her family to join the leader of the Caxon, Geth—a powerful goblin shape shifter who had nearly killed Kull and me once. She’d fallen in love with Geth, and I wondered if her feelings for him had blinded her to his true nature. If we found Heidel, would she agree to return with us?
The landscape began to change. Huge, hulking leaves grew overhead, and many of them blanketed the path and floated on the water around us. Our feet crunched over the brittle carpet of foliage. Soon, the leaves obscured the path completely. We kept our eyes on Mochazon and followed behind him. Without him, I was sure we would have gotten lost.
Sounds of rushing water came from up ahead. The sound grew louder until we stood over a huge chasm. Cold spray misted my face as I peered over the cliff’s edge to stare into a dark, seemingly bottomless pit.
Brodnik stood beside me with his torch held high, but its fire did little to illuminate the chasm below us. “It’s impossible to tell how far it goes. Could take us till morning to make it to the bottom.”
“We don’t have until morning,” Mochazon answered, his voice echoing as he landed beside us. “If you wish, I can fly each of you down one by one.”
Brodnik laughed. “Fly me down? I’ll wear bloomers and dance an elven jig before that happens. You won’t be touching me.”
Kull inspected the drop. “Flying us down one by one will take too long. We’ll use the ropes to rappel down.” He scratched his chin, seemingly lost in thought. “And with the slippery rocks, it won’t be easy.”
“What about the torches?” Brodnik asked. “We won’t be able to climb and carry them at the same time. How will we see to get down?”
“He’s right,” several of the men standing behind us agreed.
“Perhaps we should wait until morning,” one of the men offered.
“No,” Kull answered. “There’s no point. The sunlight doesn’t reach this far down.”
“Then how will we make it?” Brodnik asked.
“I have an idea,” I said. Kneeling by the edge of the stream, I reached into the chilly water and removed a handful of water-worn pebbles. My fingers grew warm as I called on my magic, letting its power infuse the stones.
The Wults distrusted magic, but if we wanted to make it safely to the bottom, they’d have to trust me for once.
I released the spell. “Radiance.”
Magic drained from my body and into the stones. A soft blue
