to live from everything shrouded by the oppressive fog.
Isabel woke irritable and agitated. She nursed her anger for a moment before getting up, when Azugorath slammed into her. Isabel gasped, clenching her teeth and focusing her will in opposition to the invader, railing against her with all of the fury she could muster … and that was her mistake.
As Isabel loosed her rage, Azugorath slipped into her mind and seized control. Isabel saw herself get up and quietly draw her sword, eyeing Hector while he slept. Ayela was sitting watch. She cocked her head and frowned at Isabel’s odd behavior.
“Isabel, what’s wrong?”
At that moment, she broke Azugorath’s hold over her and regained control, deliriously happy to be sovereign over her own body again, but terrified at the implications of what just happened. Ayela was looking at her curiously and Isabel realized her sword was still drawn. She sheathed it quietly.
“I thought I heard something,” she said, sitting next to Ayela and yawning, worry racing around in her mind.
“I’ve been hearing things since we got here,” Ayela said. “Worse, I keep having this dream about an old hag in the swamp, beckoning to me, and then I wake up but I can never get back to sleep.”
“I imagine this swamp plays tricks on anybody who’s fool enough, or desperate enough, to trespass here,” Isabel said.
The light of dawn was just beginning to filter through the mist, gradually lifting the total darkness of night in the gloaming swamp and transforming it into a uniform grey. Slyder showed her that they were still a fair distance from their destination. Given the difficulty of the terrain, probably several days away.
Even though they’d managed to completely dry their clothes during the prior evening, the chill of the fog seemed to cling to Isabel like a damp blanket. She was eager to get moving, more for the warmth of exertion than anything else.
They carefully picked their way through the swamp, a new respect for the deadliness of the water fortifying their patience on the many occasions when they encountered water and had to double back to find another way around. Fortunately, there was enough ground above water for them to make good progress during the morning.
About midday, Alexander appeared in their midst.
“How’re you holding up?” he asked Isabel. “This place looks pretty bad.”
“We’re still alive,” Isabel said, more irritably than she would have liked.
Alexander nodded. “The Regency stopped at the edge of the swamp and sent one soldier into the water. She waded out over her knees, then screamed and tried to get back to solid ground before she fell into the water and went under. The rest decided that you couldn’t be stupid enough to go into the gloaming swamp, so they split their force in two. They’re busy searching for you along the banks to the north and south.
“The Sin’Rath and Trajan’s soldiers are about a day behind and making good time on six rafts they cobbled together. Have you had any trouble?”
“Show him,” Isabel said to Ayela. She dutifully held up the jar containing the leech.
“These things almost killed us all,” Isabel said. “We went into the water and barely made it out alive. Cost us the better part of a day.”
“It looks like a common leech,” Alexander said, inspecting the slimy little creature.
“Trust me, it’s not,” Isabel said. “I’ve had leeches latch on to me before, these are different. I had four stick to me and was unconscious in under a minute—didn’t wake for almost a full day.”
Alexander looked around. “No wonder this place seems so devoid of life.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“I scouted ahead,” Alexander said. “It looks like you should be able to stay on land for about half the distance to the mountain, then the water gets deeper again.”
“Thanks,” Isabel said with an apologetic smile.
“I’ll look in on you whenever I get a chance,” Alexander said, vanishing into the mist.
They traveled a confusing path, avoiding water at every turn. A few times they were forced to cross small sections of standing water. In each case they felled trees to use as bridges rather than risk the water itself.
Late in the afternoon, Hector stopped and signaled for silence, pointing at a form in the mist. Isabel stepped up beside him, trying to figure out what she was looking at. Deciding that the intervening mist was playing with her eyes, she started forward again, as cautiously and as quietly as possible.
Atop a little knoll almost a hundred feet away, surrounded