the magical rock could be found.
“It’s what gives her so much power,” Shaella said, with a teasing look in her eyes. “That, and the fact that she eats her soldiers after they die.”
“Don’t fill his head with old wives’ tales,” Cole said, with a grin. “He did too well today to get less than the truth out of us from here on out.”
Gerard felt a bit of pride after hearing this, but no one told him anything more. As the day wore on, things settled. The four men, who had been taken forcibly from the barge, had been told that they would eventually be paid and released if they served and obeyed. Mutiny, of course, meant death, so they really had no choice. The Water-Mage, however, knew better than to believe the lie. He knew he was as good as dead. He co-operated more for the sake of the four bargemen’s lives, than for his own. He had thanked Shaella sincerely after she had healed his gashed side, but she was no fool either. She caught him eyeing his possibilities, and placed Greyber in the pilot-house to watch over him, just in case he got any ideas.
Later in the afternoon things got tense. Ahead of them, the river split into a “Y,” and down either branch, there were people and buildings. To the right, was the Westland flow, and to the left, the channel that eased along the Kingdom of Dakahn. Several docks reached out into the river from each side, and hundreds of people could see them pass. Cole and Flick both pulled up their hoods and stayed where the barge men could see them. Shaella joined Greyber and the Water-Mage in the pilot-house. If any of them were going to attempt something foolish, this would be the best opportunity for it.
No one did.
They took the Westland branch of the river. Gerard saw that what spread out between the two channels wasn’t really land. It was shallow, marshy muck. Grass grew up out of it, thick, lush, and as tall as a man, giving the terrain the illusion of being solid underneath. The illusion was shattered though, when the rolling wake of the boat, made the grass dance and waver with the flow. The expanse of grassy marsh seemed to spread out endlessly to the south and east. The solid shoreline to the right of the boat though, was Westland.
Bright, green rolling hills, dotted here and there with rocky formations and small clusters of hardwood trees, filled the spaces between crop fields and grazing pastures. A hard-packed road ran alongside the river, boasting what might be considered a small town every now and then. Wooden docks stretched out to the edge of the main river channel’s flow. Some were empty, others held small fishing crafts tied to them. A few fishing boats could be seen out in the swamp grass. They looked out of place, like they had been washed up in a field.
Soon, they passed a stone building with armed soldiers standing on its crenellated parapet.
“An outpost of the Westland Marsh Patrol,” Shaella told him, as she studied the place intently.
Less than a mile later, they passed what could’ve been called a city. There, the docks and piers were large and sturdy enough to load and unload barges. To the left of them, the marsh was only growing thicker and deeper, as it filled the space between the boat and the horizon. Gerard could see places where the ground humped up out of the muck, and large droopy trees had taken root. Around each of these swamp islands, a plethora of birds swooped and swirled about like a cloud. Some of the birds were as big as men, with wingspans easily twenty feet across. Flick called them “dactyls.”
At dusk, after a long stretch, where nothing but farmland could be seen along the Westland bank, Shaella ordered them to turn directly into the marsh. Gerard could hear and feel the abundance of life out and around them as the boat was swallowed up. Like a horse-drawn wagon charging through a cornfield, they moved through the tall swamp grass. Several times, he saw patches of the grass shake as the surface of the water was churned by some huge thing underneath that was darting away from their passage. Chirps, humming buzzes, and distant splashes, along with bellowing croaks, and the occasional groan, filled the night. Eventually, they lit torches, which only served to make the swampy marsh seem that much vaster. A cloud of biting gnats formed around Gerard’s head, and a not so distant splash, which was so big, its ripples made the whole boat rock back and forth, caused a tremor of unease to run through him.
He decided to sit down and close his eyes for a while. He fell asleep against the pilot-house.
He woke once, when it felt like the boat had stopped moving. He heard foreign voices that had an almost animalistic hissing quality to them, but he was too tired to pull himself out of his slumber to investigate. After a while, Shaella joined him. She was silent, as she took his side and let her head rest on his shoulder. His sleep was deep and sound then.
The sudden lurching of the boat woke him again. Shaella was gone, and the sun was coming up off to the far left. He could tell that they were heading south. The barge that they had been pushing was no longer anywhere in sight, and the riverboat was moving swiftly.
The surrounding terrain was as much above the water level as below it now. It looked like they were in a scattered forest that had suddenly been flooded with grassy water. The places that were above the water level were dense and thick, with tall, yet drooping, trees, and even thicker, leafy undergrowth. The sounds of grunting land animals could be heard, and once, Gerard saw a dark shape swinging from a shaking tree. None of it seemed to take his attention fully away from the dominant feature of the deep marshes though. Far ahead of them, rising up like a mammoth fang to tower hundreds of feet above the swamp trees, was a sharp and slightly curved formation.
“That’s our destination,” Shaella said excitedly.
Actually seeing Dragon’s Tooth Spire, and knowing that Shaella expected him to climb to the top of it to steal the egg of a real dragon, made Gerard’s stomach roil. It was all he could do to keep from vomiting over the rail.
Chapter 24
“Once upon a time, it was a fire mountain,” Shaella said, as she slipped her arm around Gerard’s waist.
They were still on the riverboat, leaning against the bow rail. She felt that she had gone crazy, allowing herself to feel for Gerard. It was stupid and unwise, she told herself over and over, but knowing it, didn’t make the feelings go away. “What is youth, for but to make mistakes?” A quote from some obscure text she had once read came to mind. The words somehow made her foolishness seem alright, like the words of a priest cleansing away a sin. Gerard pulled her closer to him, bringing her wandering mind back to the moment.
The afternoon sun made the air thick with humidity. The chattering, chirping hum of the insects around them filled the air. Occasionally, they found themselves in a cloud of pesky gnats or tiny little biting flies. A larger scarier looking thing, half dragonfly, half scorpion, hovered and buzzed about them menacingly, until Cole came out and zapped it with one of his sizzling crimson bolts.
“I can climb it,” Gerard’s voice held only the slightest trace of bravado when he spoke.
He seemed, to Shaella, to be speaking more to himself than to her. She only nodded and smiled sweetly at him.
“Once, it was wider than it is tall. You can see what I mean, if you look at it from the sides.” Shaella indicated the Dragon’s Tooth Spire looming ahead of them in the distance. “The entire river used to flow down the channel we’re in now. It was far deeper then. Somehow, it split around the fire mountain. Over the centuries, it wore at the sides and deposited all of this.” Her arm swept around broadly, indicating the whole of the marshes around them. “The marsh is bigger than Westland.” She turned to face him, and her look grew serious, as if what she were about to say was of great importance. “Right now, we are in the biggest, most powerful land in the entire realm. What’s more, is that not a single one of those self-righteous and mighty Kings even knows it.”
“But it’s empty,” said Gerard. “There’s no one out here.”
“Oh, but there is.” She kissed him on the lips quickly. “You just don’t see them, but you will.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow night, if the Water-Mage’s strength holds out,” she answered.
He pulled back from her quickly, swatted at a buzzing sound near his ear, and then ducked, reflexively. Whatever it was, it had already absconded. Grinning at the silliness of how he must look, he recovered.
“So, do you have a plan yet? Have you decided what I’m to do once I climb to the top of that thing?”
“Yes, there is a plan,” she answered coolly.
