A deep hiss filled the air, low and reverberating like that of an alligator, and I finally realized what the pattern on the “trunks’” surface had reminded me of.
Snakes.
No; not snakes.
A snake.
We were surrounded by the coils of a single, unthinkably massive creature.
I tried to keep watch on all the moving parts, but there were too many. How big is this thing?
Most importantly, where was its head? If we could figure that out, and if we were careful, maybe we could avoid it altogether—
A wedge-shaped snout dipped down from the misty canopy, hanging barely a meter above the convoy. Its black-and-brown coloring mirrored that of the monstrous coils all around us, though much of its head was covered in algae and pond weed that hung from its brow ridges and mouth.
Directly below it was Ajax. The warrior had frozen along with the rest, eyes wide, but now his grip shifted on his spear. His eyes flicked up to the creature’s head, gauging the distance.
But this was an opponent not even Ajax could beat. The snake’s head was twice as long as Ajax was tall. Its tongue flicked out, tasting the air.
It happened in an eyeblink. One moment Ajax was tightening his grip on his weapon. The next moment the serpent struck. Its massive head jabbed downward, its jaws open wide, and when it drew back, the space where Ajax had been standing was empty.
I stared numbly as the Augmentary text flashed before me:
Marsh Zolom marked as “hostile.”
Forty-Six
The Marsh Zolom
Corey
“It ate him,” Benin breathed. The mage’s eyes almost bulged from his head. “It just… ate him!”
The colossal serpent finished swallowing my most fearsome warrior and reared its massive head. As it bared scimitar-length fangs, old habits kicked in and I activated Insight.
Marsh Zolom
Reptile
A hybrid combination of the marsh boa and the now-extinct umbral constrictor, the Marsh Zolom is a remnant of the Godswoken Era and is capable of surviving for thousands of years.
The Zolom can spend decades hibernating without needing sustenance, though it is notably more aggressive when first awakened. Its powerfully muscled coils are designed for constricting prey, while its sharp teeth allow it to also tear chunks off anything too large to be swallowed whole.
Sure enough, behind the fangs were rows and rows of teeth. I was pretty sure I glimpsed rotting meat and bone and even a flash of metal armor caught between some of them, and I was glad I couldn’t smell the creature’s no-doubt fetid breath.
My denizens could, though. Those on the second wagon cowered below it, visibly trembling. Some of them covered their faces, as though not being able to see the giant snake would make them invisible to it in turn. Solid logic.
Their wagon was pulled by Flea. The badger shuffled his feet and whimpered, and the Marsh Zolom immediately turned its face toward him, tongue flicking out as it glided closer. It opened its mouth wide, nearly unhinging its jaw, and I realized it intended to swallow them whole, wagon, badger, gnomes and all. There was still a lump sliding down its throat—poor Ajax. I couldn’t let that happen to anyone else.
A second before its gaping maw plunged downward, a piercing shriek blasted through the air. The massive snake jerked its head in the direction of the sound, momentarily distracted.
At my command, Ris’kin, who’d been riding on the first wagon, had urged Longshank and Steelpaw to keep moving forward—right into the zone of the next shrieker shroom.
The Zolom slithered over to the screaming mushroom and snapped at the air beside it, but Longshank had already pushed the sturdy dire badger onward. The Zolom scented the air with its tongue as though searching, until Steelpaw triggered a third shrieker.
This time when the serpent darted toward the sound, it was forced to stop short—the branch around which its upper body was wound held it back. It hissed in frustration and withdrew.
Quick! Keep going! I urged Ris’kin.
I took advantage of the snake’s unraveling of itself to Divine Inspiration Gneil, who signaled to General Hoppit that everyone should keep moving as quickly as possible. The convoy splashed along the nebulous path, triggering shriekers every time they passed them. The badgers were wide-eyed with terror; it was a miracle they were paying attention to their riders at all.
As the snake unwound its massive coils, hissing menacingly, I asked my companions, “Suggestions?”
“Holy shit,” was Benin’s less-than-helpful response.
Branches cracked and leaves tore as the serpent plowed through them. Its wedge-shaped head drove into the water at the side of the path, sending a wave of murky water to drench those in the nearest wagons. When it resurfaced, some of the black weeds that coated its brow had been dislodged, revealing not eyes but dark empty sockets.
Like it wasn’t terrifying enough already.
“The serpent is blind,” announced Bekkit.
“You think?” muttered Benin.
I thanked all the gods in all the hells that the Zolom was a boa, not a pit viper like some of the other snakes we’d encountered. If it had possessed those same heat-sensing pit-organs, it would have been able to “see” us all easily despite its lack of eyes.
“It’s got no eyes,” said Coll, late to the party as ever. “But it can still detect us by taste and sound.”
As though its ears were burning—did snakes have ears?—the Zolom twisted toward the sound of Coll’s voice. He clamped his mouth shut, but it was too late.
The serpent lunged at the warrior, sending more water splashing over my denizens on the path as it surged past them all toward Coll at the rear. He sidestepped just in time, and its jaws snapped harmlessly at the air beside him. In one smooth motion, the warrior brought his hammer down with both hands on the top of the Zolom’s head. I could already hear Benin’s impending complaints about being splattered with snake-brains.
The hammer bounced off.
The unexpected force of the recoil sent Coll stumbling back a couple of steps. His
