Chapter Four
Over the course of three days, the plains turned into a savanna, and the savanna gradually turned into a damp, humid swamp.
Steve remained as reserved and obnoxious as ever, only speaking to me when he felt it was necessary to insult me or to ask weirdly detailed questions about my family, neither of which filled the loneliness I felt every waking hour.
But, when we came to the edge of the swamp, he started to get nervous. You could tell by the way he clenched and unclenched his hands every few seconds and how his eyes never lingered on one place for long.
"If you're too scared to go in, we can find a way around." I said, only half teasing. Wisps of mist coated the ground and snaked between the scraggly trees like bloated worms, making the whole place seem even creepier than it already was.
"There isn't another way around. This is a valley between two mountain ranges. If we take the mountains, it will be another week of travel; aside from that, you aren't strong enough to be hauling yourself up hundred-foot cliffs all day." Steve said, his fingers tapping his right thigh rhythmically, as if he were thinking.
"Are you sure you aren't exaggerating?" I scowled at him.
"No, I am not exaggerating. I've done it before." Steve replied pointedly. A glance at his biceps could testify to his claim. "But if you see a cactus holding a stick, we're turning around."
"Did that creeper explosion hit you too hard?" I asked, jabbing a thumb in the direction of a small crater that had we left behind a few hours ago.
"Trust me. What lives in here is much worse than a creeper." Steve said darkly. He started walking, his sword equipped.
I didn't even try to sleep that night, for more reasons than one. First, the ground was wet and muddy and cold. Second, the air was damp and heavy and cold. Third, I kept imagining demon cactuses and bloodthirsty shrubbery. Did I mention how cold it was?
So, I stayed up all night with Steve, attempting to help to ward off monsters and trying not to jump at every shadow. At some point, I had suggested that we keep walking, since I was already awake.
"I don't think you want to walk through this place in the dark." Steve simply told me, and that was enough to convince me otherwise.
Dawn came slowly, and even after that we waited an extra hour before setting out. The humidity clung to my skin, making my clothes sticky and creating a bitter chill whenever a lonely breeze swept through. To add to my misery, the mud had soaked through my shoes and socks while we walked.
My thoughts drifted back to my warm fireplace a home, where undoubtedly hot food was waiting and maybe a bath if I was lucky and got home before Sunday. Mother and Father would welcome me home with tears, hugs and freshly baked sticky buns paired with a mug of pressed cider from our apple trees
Most of my brothers and sisters would be dispersing to their daily activities by now. Gerald, Anna, May, James, Lewis, Donna, Gabrielle and Katie would be going to the schoolhouse, while Diane would already be at choir practice. My eldest brother, John, would be plotting ways to win the heart of the mayor's daughter over breakfast, and I would usually be starting the morning cleaning with Mother. It was strange to be doing something other than sweeping the floors.
I was so lost in thought that I barely noticed Steve collapse onto the ground.
"Steve?" I looked down at him. I hadn't ever seen him try to pull any sort of prank before, and I saw no reason for him to start now. He didn't move, so I nudged his shoulder with my foot. "Steve, this isn't funny! Steve!"
Suddenly a figure dropped from the trees and landed silently in front of me. It was tiny and shriveled and it had a horrible, half-rotten pig face set with weirdly clear turquoise eyes. Spiny green hide covered its back, while the rest of it was clad in muddy rags. It waved its scraggly arms and swatted at me with a gnarled stick decorated with bones and chicken feathers.
I screamed and staggered back, falling into a slimy mud hole. The stagnant water closed over my head and the swamp-grass growing at the bottom grabbed at my limbs like cold, grasping fingers.
I thrashed away, clawing back to the surface and trying to rip my sword out of my inventory. Muddy water dripped into my eyes, blurring my vision while the mire sucked at my feet.
I saw the creature raise its stick and smack the sword out of my hands. The blade snapped clean in half before it hit the ground.
"Leave this place!" the pig-faced monster rasped, pointing its stick at my neck. I let out a pathetic whimper and shut my eyes, waiting for it to sink its fangs into my neck or slash open my chest with its claws. I was going to die here with some sort of mob that I had never heard of and some random guy that I barely knew and liked even less.
I heard the sound of bones clattering against wood and braced myself for the sharp, blunt pain of something colliding with my head or the sharp sting that came with being impaled.
When my HP didn't so much as twitch, I risked opening one eye.
The hunched, prickly figure had disregarded me, instead shuffling over to Steve where it began to drag him away by the back of his shirt. I noticed a black-feathered dart sticking out of the side of his neck.
"Wait!" I cried, staggering to a drier patch of earth. Filth covered every inch of me and sapped the warmth from my body.
The creature didn't react to me or even appear to notice my call. It simply adjusted its grip, wrapping an arm around Steve's midsection, and then started off at a startlingly quick pace.
I began to run after it, tripping over my own feet where the mud refused to let go of my shoes. Eventually, I fell so far behind and became so frustrated that I took them off and threw them with all my might. Freed of a surprising amount of waterlogged weight, I broke into a headlong sprint, trying my best to avoid muddy pools and sinkholes.
However, the spiny green creature was disappearing into the mist, taking my only hope of seeing my family again with it.
"Wait! Stop!" I desperately cried. "I need him!"
I yelled in shock as my next footfall shoved through the layer of black algae covering the ground and didn't stop until my chest fell against solid ground. I clawed at the dark, spongy earth, pulling with my arms and kicking with my legs. But, my fingers kept slipping and each kick sucked me further into my inevitable death.
The pressure around my chest increased to the point that it was hard to breathe and nearly impossible to cry out for help. There wasn't anyone around to hear me anyway, so what was the point?
A spooky sort of calm settled over me as the earth slipped over my mouth. Unlike the other two times I'd had a near-death encounter, this time it was real, so why should I bother trying to fight?
My chest began to ache as my HP dropped from ten hearts to six in a matter of moments. A few seconds later, I was left with only two.
I said a quick prayer to Notch, asking him to keep my family safe and away from harm, as well as to help Steve escape from whatever creature had taken him captive.
Then, the pressure around my chest increased alarmingly, and I gave up as my singly remaining unit of life started to trickle away.
My lungs and throat burned when I got to the afterlife, and I heard someone talking. The voice was rough and gravelly and sent chills up my spine.
"N-Notch?" I groaned, peeling open my eyelids. I instantly shut them again upon seeing the decaying pig-face leering down at me.
I let out a groan.
I was still alive.
"I could kill her right now, Michael." the creature hissed. I heard a frustrated series of muffled grunts.
Michael? Who was Michael?
I heard the creature shuffle across the floor, then return. Suddenly, a familiar lukewarm liquid splashed over my face, making me sit up and splutter. My HP began to rapidly refill.
The creature set a glass potion bottle like the one Steve had given me in a corner then stared at me with its weird blue eyes.
I saw my guide sitting against a wall, bound and gagged and looking furious. He too was caked in filth and mire, as if he had jumped into some sort of giant inkblot.
Or had somehow escaped and come back to save me….
"W-what do you want?" I murmured at the shriveled monster. When I looked closely, I saw that it was wearing a cape of leathery cactus hide.
A cactus holding a stick.
Fear rose from the pit in my stomach up to my throat. This thing was what Steve had been worried about.
It continued to stare at me for a moment, as if lost in thought. But then,
"What did he promise you? Money? Power? Love?" the thing exploded, shaking its staff in frustration.
I fell back against the rough, clay wall of the tiny hut that sealed us in with our kidnapper.
"Nothing!" I replied frantically. "H-He's just showing me the way to Iceridge!"
Steve glared at the creature and nodded ferociously.
Once again, it seemed to be thinking.
"There's only one way to be sure." it decided. It shuffled across the room and flipped open a crude trap door, where it scurried down a rickety ladder. When it didn't come back right away, I turned and ran to Steve.
"We have got to get out of here!" I whispered, kneeling in front of him and pulling the gag out of his mouth.
"You don't say," Steve sighed exasperatedly. He shifted so that he was on his knees with his back towards me, and I could see the knots clearly. He was bound with what looked like several meters of braided cloth, coated in marsh slime and blackened with filth.
I tugged violently at the knots with my fingers, splitting a fingernail in the process, but the hitch wouldn't budge.
"Steve, don't you have something that could be useful?" I groaned.
"There's probably an Althea lying around somewhere. Maybe she could be helpful." Steve retorted.
By now, the pig-faced creature had returned and I scrambled back. It held another glass bottle in its gnarled hands.
"Do we really have to do this every time?" Steve sighed, glowering at the cactus-clad figure.
"There is no way I can trust you until I do." the thing rattled. It uncorked the bottle, murmured something in a language I didn't know, then started shaking its staff.
"Steve, what's going on?" I whimpered.
"Just an identity check." he rolled his eyes, looking like he would rather sleep on the creature's cactus hide.
The monster's raspy mantra rose in volume and tempo until it stopped so abruptly that it startled me.
Then with a sharp flick of its wrist, it was over.
"Steven, darling, I'm so sorry." the monster said sweetly, shuffling over to untie him.
Once his arms were free, Steve wiped whatever it had thrown at him out of his face.
"Really? Every time?" he shot a withering glance at the creature. "And don't call me Steven."
"Well of course I have to check…Michael is a master of deceit." the monster replied. It hobbled across the room to a sloppily made box, where it began to peel off its face.
I watched with a strange mix of emotions as it placed what looked to be a mask inside the box, then turned around.
What I thought had been a monster had really been a hump-backed old woman. She had limp white hair, tanned, leathery skin and those brilliant blue eyes that I had seen before.
Steve got to his feet and pulled out the little black plume of feathers sticking out of his neck.
"Blow darts? Don't you think that's a bit overkill?" he asked, rubbing his neck.
"I was prepared for Michael, not for you and your wife." the old woman groused. I felt my face flush.
"N-No…he's not—" I stammered.
"We aren't married." Steve said sharply. "We aren't even friends."
The hag suddenly laughed.
"I know." she cackled. "Only your mother would love an ugly mug like that."
Steve pressed his lips together and kneaded the bridge of his nose with his dirty fingers. I slowly stood up, keeping close to the wall.
"Steve, what's going on?" I asked. "Who is she?"
"She's what I wanted to avoid," he sighed. The old woman still howled and snorted with laughter, smacking her knobby knees. Steve looked up at me apologetically.
"Althea," he said. "This is my grandmother."