Chapter 28 – Kawasseas
For the first time in weeks, Maeve could see the stars above her head and the grinning waxing gibbous of the moon, the silvery, minty light shining faintly upon the creepy surface of the wide marsh, with the black waters as still as death in the cold dark night.
Mist was drifting along the shore banks, blurring their edges, and the strong pungent smell of floating patches of muck saturated the air, with an icy humidity that chilled everyone to the bones.
The swamp was huge beyond anything she had imagined, the fetid water mirroring the stars of the night sky like a broken mirror under which the Kawasseas were dwelling, ready to spring out of the water at any moment to bring death to any intruders.
Many times in the past few days she had wondered how they would possibly get across the swamp's vast expanse, but as she hunched in the brambles near the shore with Robin, Leisa and the others, she saw the outline of a major sinuous path of moss-coloured rocks weaving its way across the surface like a snake, with many secondary parallel trails slithering everywhere in a complex maze that looked everything but safe even if cautious footing was strongly advocated.
She also noted that right above the main path of slimy stones hung a massive dark chain with iron loops as thick as her arms, covered with muddy filth and twines of slick weeds, silently creaking as it swayed in the ghostly breeze.
"Have I mentioned how much I hate this place?" Coop muttered under his breath as they all crouched in the brushes by the shore, still as statues.
"Not today, you haven't," Mark replied lowly, his green eyes scanning their chilling surroundings for any sign of threat in the hefty darkness.
"Can you see any?" Leo asked in a hushed tone, the young soldier fidgeting in the cold.
"No," Robin said, shaking his head grimly as his raptor eyes surveyed the vast marsh like a hawk. "But I'm sure they already know we're here."
"Whatever you do," Coop cautioned, directing his words towards her in warning. "Don't let them touch you with that sticky stuff that shoots out of their palms."
Maeve nodded to his short piece of advice, then took a deep bracing breath as she surveyed the quiet swamp. "So what's the plan?"
"We stay alive," Mark grumbled under his breath, his resonant voice echoing in the air as she caught sight of the numerous leather straps that Simon was distributing to the soldiers and the civilians close by.
"What are those for?" she frowned in puzzlement, while Robin turned his watchful attention back to the group and took the two sturdy straps the blond soldier handed to him, each of them measuring about two feet long and adorned with metal clips at each end, as if meant to hook into something.
"We use this to tie each other up," he explained, short and simple. "That way if someone gets pulled under by the Kawasseas, our combined forces can resist the tug and hopefully we can pull the person back out of the water."
Maeve glanced at the others, her eyes landing on one soldier as he clipped a metal hook into a loop at his belt and then clipped the other end into the belt buckle of the civilian next to him, securely linking them together.
She watched as on and on it went, from one person to the next as they all clipped each other together with the leather straps like a long caterpillar.
"And if we can't resist the pull?" she pondered, her mind latching on to the biggest flaw of his plan as she answered her own question. "Then we're all pulled under."
"No," Robin replied, steady and calm. "Soldiers at regular intervals down the trek line also link themselves with that big chain hanging overhead above the path. As long as those connections remain, sliding along with our progress, we won't be pulled under."
Barely convinced, her eyes flitted to the other people crouched into the bushes with them, the anguish and fear plastered on the civilians' features twisting her insides like a sharp knife as she watched small children being securely tied up to the sturdiest soldiers, while trembling mothers whispered soothing words of reassurance in their ears. It was a heart-wrenching spectacle to behold, with the marrow of her bones slowly thrumming with protectiveness, but then her attention was pulled back to her closest companions.
"At least we don't have to worry about their singing driving us mad," Leo grimaced optimistically as he hoisted his pack on his shoulders, ready to return to his place in the middle of the convoy with two leather straps clutched in his fist.
"It still gives me the willies to hear their bloody voices though," Mark protested with a low growl as he stood up beside his friend with a grim look, glaring at the swamp while his massive frame contrasted with the silver moonlight. "Those damn mermaids give me nightmares for weeks every time."
"Well, the legend does say that only the person they sing about can be lured to them," Coop pointed out as he secured his quiver on his back, his lips twitching with sassy humor as usual.
"You're making that up," Leo dismissed his comment with an annoyed frown, although his brown eyes still narrowed in suspicion.
"No, I'm not," Coop protested, defending his claim. "My grandmother read me the story when I was very little."
"Your grandmother?" Simon raised a skeptical eyebrow at the roguish man. "The one who thought she was a lighthouse and used to climb on her rooftop every night with a torch?"
"Not that one," Coop scowled. "The other one."
"Enough," Leisa shushed them sternly, like a lioness quieting her cubs with a roar.
"The Kawasseas' song isn't our concern. What we need to focus on is making our way across the swamp as fast as we can with as little noise as possible. Think you can do that?"
The three men fell silent at her sharp rebuke, while Maeve's mind latched onto another detail that was bugging her.
"Why can't we cross during daylight?" she asked, glancing at the moon and the stars above their heads.
"Because that's when the Kawasseas come out," Robin answered plainly as he rose to his feet carefully, steadying himself with his branch not to put too much weight on his sprained ankle. "This swamp is the only part of the Blind Mountains that the sun can reach, and the Kawasseas spend their days basking in its light and warmth."
"And they don't like to share," Mark observed dourly, his straight brow shadowing his green eyes, while Maeve shivered in the cold.
"What about your Sleyans?" she wondered, this time tossing a glance at Leisa.
"The marsh is too big and there are too many Kawasseas," the Radakeel replied darkly. "My weapons' power needs to be focused to be effective, not fragmented in such a wide space."
Maeve nodded in understanding, rising to her feet along with the others as Simon officially bid them farewell.
"Well, we're heading back to our spots," he declared, deep lines of determination etched into his pale face. "Be careful out there."
Robin clasped the man's forearm firmly. "You too." Then he glanced at each of his brave companions one at a time. "See you on the other side."
They all nodded to their General, lips pressed tight in grave resolve, with Leo muttering a few last words of optimism. "Hopefully we all make it through."
Mark patted him on the back with an encouraging hand and they all turned around to leave, quivering civilians moving aside to let them pass, but they had barely made a few steps when Maeve felt the visceral pull of protectiveness within her core once more, the visible terror painted on the people's faces suddenly igniting it into a bright flame, a dangerous bonfire that made her speak before she even knew what she was doing.
"We will," she promised, her solemn voice pulling the four men to an abrupt stop as they all looked back and blinked at her in surprise, soldiers and civilians alike. "Nobody will die tonight."
Her sudden pledge rooted them in place for a few seconds, dozens of eyes glinting in the moonlight with wonder and hope as if their precious Fire Maiden had just spoken some formidable truth, simple words upon which they could suddenly draw a renewed amount of strength and courage.
Her bolstering statement soon earned her a proud smirk from Coop, the roguish man openly agreeing with her while his companions continued to look stunned, but soon enough the rest of the soldiers nodded to her with purpose and fortitude, and they all turned around once more to reach their appointed post down the trek line, Mark and Leo in the middle, and Simon and Coop at the rear.
She watched them leave at last, allowing her lungs to fill with a bracing breath and willing her nerves to settle in the pit of her stomach, until she felt Robin step up beside her, his entire body stiff like a rope pulled taut.
"You shouldn't make promises you might not be able to keep," he spoke carefully, angling his body towards hers while his expert fingers clipped one end of a leather strap into a buckle on her corset, and then hooked the other end into a loop at the side of his leather armour.
Maeve smirked, unable to stop the tease that fell from her lips. "Doubting your Queen, General?"
He huffed through his nose, the ghost of a smile dancing on his face as he checked the strap between them, tugging at it lightly to make sure it was secure, before plunging his raptor eyes deep into hers. "Just warning her," he replied, growing serious and protective. "That's not a burden you want to carry."
She lowered her gaze at that, hoping to hide the flicker of sorrow in her eyes as the wings of a hawk flapped in her memories. "I'm already familiar with that kind of weight," she assured him with a sad smile.
He watched her attentively, as if he was carefully storing this new information somewhere inside his head where he could pick it apart later on.
Linked as they were with the leather strap, there was barely a foot or two separating them and she was suddenly painfully aware of how closely they were standing, a gentle reminder of their recent embrace by the tree after her terrifying nightmare.
It was a tempting place to return to, the safety of him and the quiet respite of his arms, urging her to lean into him and close her eyes just for a few seconds before the chaos of battle unfurled upon them again, but she quickly snapped out it and cleared her throat. "Shall we?"
His blues eyes lingered on her for a few timeless seconds, some inner turmoil painting them darker, but he swiftly seemed to shake himself out of whatever moment had just passed between them and he gave her a small nod of agreement before turning his attention to the last obstacle that stood between them and salvation.
With his long branch in hand, he limped past her to head for the swamp, the leather strap tugging her along behind him, but then a brisk voice pulled them to a stop.
"Not so fast," Leisa warned, the warrior woman suddenly invading Maeve's space and deftly clipping the end of her own strap into one of her belt buckles, effectively trapping Maeve between her and Robin.
"This would have come in handy during the battle with the Skinwalkers and the Borgs," the Radakeel commented with dark amusement, and Maeve could only roll her eyes in the silvery darkness.
"If given the chance, I'm sure you would lock me in a box," she replied in slight annoyance.
"Damn right I would," Leisa openly admitted before Robin pulled them along towards the misty marsh, with the rest of the convoy following behind the Radakeel like a long column of ants, all of them linked by the small leather straps.
When they reached the beginning of the main path of slimy rocks that would take them across the Kawasseas' swamp, Robin briefly paused to flip a longer strap around the massive chain that hung above the trail above their heads and tie it to a clasp on his leather armour. When he was sure it was secure enough, he cast one last look of grim resolve over his shoulder, knowing that there was no way back and only forward, and then took the first step on the slimy trail of wet stones, one hand prodding the surface with the tip of his branch to guide and assist him while the other slid the black safety strap along the chain above him.
With the utmost caution, Maeve followed after him with Leisa on her heels like a second shadow, her protective presence strangely comforting in the gloomy environment of the dark bog, where pretty much anything could be lying in wait behind the thin curtain of mist that hovered above the water.
As grime and muck flapped against the rocks at their feet, sloshing quietly in the crushing silence, Maeve could see her breath puffing in the cold damp air before her, with her fingers rapidly growing numb.
Behind her, soldiers and civilians were carefully threading their way on the slippery path, supporting the wounded as best as they could and holding children in their arms as the poor little souls shivered in fear.
As the massive rusty chain softly creaked above their heads with the wind whistling faintly though the mud-caked loops, the tension was so palpable in the air Maeve could almost hear everyone praying under their breaths, as if trying to convince themselves over and over again that every step forward was a step closer to safety, sunlight and green grass.
Without looking behind her at the Radakeel, she could also tell that Leisa's hands were brushing on the grip of her Sleyans, ready to unsheathe them at the first sign of danger, and she also knew that at the rear Coop probably had an arrow notched in place, ready to find its mark.
In front of her, Robin was slowly and expertly picking their trail on the slimy irregular rocks, his solid frame close enough to touch, and Maeve kept a watchful eye on his back, ready to grasp him in a flash should he miss a step because of his sprained ankle.
About halfway across the swamp, the mist became thicker and more sinister, coiling above the sloshing water at their feet and gathering like a veil in front of Robin but he didn't stop, manoeuvring blindly forward, although Maeve knew he was anything but blind. He knew exactly where he was going and that made her wonder just how many times he had crossed the treacherous Blind Mountains before.
Blowing a strand of stray hair away from her face, she made a mental note to ask him about it once they reached the safety of the other shore, but right then the faint voice of a woman floated above the mist to reach her ears, melodious and crystalline like glass.
She stopped dead in her tracks, the strap linking her to Robin stretching and pulling him to an abrupt stop. Her eyes whipped to the side, straining to see past the mist as her heart thundered in her chest, but the voice was suddenly gone.
"What's wrong?" Robin asked her, low-voiced and cautious.
Wondering if her ears had tricked her since no one else seemed troubled at all, Maeve searched the mist stubbornly for evidence but she couldn't see anything. Blaming the trickery on her raw nerves, she shook her head with a shrug. "Nothing." And she fell back into careful steps behind him.
Shivers began to run down her spine though as they resumed their slow progression across the marsh, and she couldn't help tossing quick looks at the water whenever possible, a sickening feeling of dread lodging itself in the pit of her stomach. She suddenly felt like running as fast as she could to reach the other side of the cursed bog, like a prey hunted down by an invisible predator.
Shuddering in the clammy cold, she tried to pour all her attention on placing one foot in front of the other on the muddy stones, but her eyes stubbornly kept flicking back to the swirling curtain of damp mist hovering above the black waters on either side.
And then she saw her.
A couple of yards to the right, her long silver hair slicked over her head and glittering in the moonlight, with the sparkling water gently flapping inches above the swell of her breasts. Parting the mist, she was as still as a statue and her eyes were white and blind like the Skinwalkers.
But Maeve knew the Kawassea could see, for the ethereal creature was looking straight back at her.
An icy chill ghosted everywhere on her flesh like tingles of doom and yanked her to a stop once more.
"Wait," she urged under her breath, pulling on the strap to halt Robin again.
Following where she was looking, Robin immediately spotted the distant silhouette with prominent cheek bones and lips as black as coal, and his brow sharply drew down in alarm, his entire body tensing up like steel. Eyes shining gravely, he gripped her elbow with a firm hand. "Don't look at her. Just keep going."
Staring at the lone Kawassea that was watching them from afar with her skin glowing like liquid silver, Maeve was forced back into motion behind Robin, and when Leisa urged her forward as well she had no choice but to yield.
Her head was spinning with a weird sensation, as if her senses were slowly melting away. She had just about managed to tear her eyes away from the bewitching sight of the Kawassea when the musical, mellow voice of the creature rang in her ears again, echoing gracefully over the mist like ancient whispers.
"Come all you jolly brave men
Your deeds I will commend
If you find my sailor for me
His eyes blue like the sea"
The hair at the back of her neck rose like spikes, her entire body suddenly thrumming with a distant calling as if an invisible bond was tugging at her, a beacon luring her to some invisible destination.
"Can't you hear her?" she heard herself ask faintly, enthralled by the Kawassea's voice while Robin tightened his grip on her elbow.
"No," he answered darkly, his tone thick with urgency. "Just keep walking."
"Mighty soldier, warrior, lover
A wounded heart or a sinner
Please find my sailor for me
His eyes blue like the sea"
Longing ignited inside her, something desperate and feral sparking in her limbs as she abruptly dug her heels in the rocks and resisted Robin's pull. She needed to hear the words better, to patch them together and uncover their hidden meaning, the mysterious song going straight through her like an arrow while her mind blurred at the edges.
"Robin, something's wrong," Leisa said in rising alarm, grasping Maeve's other elbow with an iron clutch. "I think she can hear the song."
"Maeve, look at me," Robin shook her slightly, one hand reaching up to cup her cheek and force her to look at him. "Don't listen to her. We're almost there."
She met his worried gaze but her mind was clouding over, as if the mist was seeping and swirling inside her head like senseless and shapeless shadows.
He pulled her along with him once again, tugging at her wounded arm as gently as he could, but she twisted in his grasp in an attempt to break free. "Let me go."
His fingers dug into her sling while Leisa flanked her other side, trying to obscure her view of the bewitching Kawassea and force her to keep going.
"Let me go!" She fought them off again more fiercely, clawing at their hands while her vision cracked to pieces, her blood filling with the urgency to escape as strings of worried whispers rippled through the trek line behind them, the sudden stalling in their progression igniting everyone's fear like a spreading fire.
"Mourning and heartbroken
Grieving for a ghost forsaken
For the one he lost at sea
Why won't he cry for me?"
She was losing it, trashing against her captors like a wild cat with her screams of protest piercing the night like a blade. She needed to go, to run, to reach the Kawassea and drink from her song, hungering for the words that would offer her all the answers that she sought.
She scratched and pulled and pushed, while Robin and Leisa struggled to calm her down and knock some sense back into her, refusing to release her even if they had to drag her to the safety of the shore if they had to.
They were stronger than she was, but in the confusing mess of her kicking and screaming she was quicker, and her fingers curled around the dagger lodged in her boot, pulling out the blade.
"Watch out!" In one swift movement Leisa flipped a Sleyan in her fist and thrust forward to disarm her while Robin's powerful hand reached to catch the weapon at the same time, the blade quickly clanking to the stone beneath their feet.
But Maeve didn't lose a second and twisted her body out of the way, deflecting the Radakeel's threat as the Sleyan finished its course against Robin's side instead, its dreadful magic sizzling in the night.
As Robin's knees buckled at the sudden blasting pain in his ribs and Leisa cursed under her breath, Maeve was able to unclip the metal hooks of the leather straps that were linking her to them both, and before the Radakeel could firmly snatch her again, Maeve jumped out of her grasp like a cat.
"NO!"
She heard Robin shout wildly as shocked gasps from the other soldiers rippled in the chilling air, but she was already leaping on the closest stones of a secondary trail amidst the intricate network that zigzagged on the surface of the swamp.
Discarding her pack and her sling that were weighing and slowing her down, she hopped from one rock to the next in the damp mist and navigated her way through the precarious network of mud-caked stones. Her reality had narrowed down to one necessity: reach the awaiting, glittering form of the graceful Kawassea that was fixing her in the water with her penetrating white eyes, beckoning her closer and closer like a spirit from the underworld chanting for the living souls it had left behind.
When at last she jumped on the nearest outcrop of rock jutting from the black fetid water, Maeve stopped, her breath catching in her throat as the immobile Kawassea merely floated a few feet in front of her in the dark water. Surrounded by a thousand sparkling dots of starlight reflected by the night sky above her head, the creature looked like a star herself, fallen from the heavens and painted in liquid silver. Her face was expressionless, timeless, like a carved marble statue, perfect and divine. And she was singing again.
Maeve crouched down slowly to get closer, going down on her knees to inch her way forward on all fours, ever closer, drinking every word the Kawassea was chanting with a voice as clear as crystal. Alarms bells were ringing in her head like an explosion of fireworks, but she could do nothing about it. She was frozen, her limbs paralysed, her mind forfeited.
"His heart a prize to claim
Her memory shall first be slain
To keep her away from thee
His eyes blue like the sea"
The words of the hypnotizing lullaby registered in her bewitched brain seconds too late, and Maeve knew she was lost even before the Kawasseas' beautiful face morphed into a hideous screech and her white fangs glistened from her black mouth.
Like a strike of lightening, she was pulled head first into the dark waters before she could even scream, the strong bony hand that struck out to grab her shirt way too fast for her to dodge.
The freezing water closed around her like the embrace of death and stabbed at her skin like a thousand needles while her limbs wildly kicked and flailed as she was dragged down down down, the pressure in her ears building painfully and threatening to blast her skull open.
It was cold. So cold…
Her eyes pressed close and her mouth clamped shut, her lungs urgently pleading for air with an unbearable strangling sensation.
Things were bumping into her from all directions, Kawasseas grappling for her limbs and pulling at her clothes, like eels and snails slithering all around her, slippery and freezing, a lair of predators mad for the taste of blood and death.
She tried to fight them off blindly, choking on a scream she couldn't let out while she kicked her legs and waved her arms to reach the surface, her wounded left shoulder painfully straining. But it was no use; she was pulled down every time, the Kawasseas crashing into her from all sides, drowning her slowly and mercilessly, denying her that one gulp of air that could buy her precious seconds of time.
Although she couldn't see anything around her at all, in her mind's eye she could well imagine the immense depth of the dark swamp reaching a hundred feet deep like the ocean, with the bottomless waters housing hundreds upon hundreds of Kawasseas flapping their glowing fins in the impenetrable darkness, like flocks of birds flying in the infinity of the sky before a storm.
With her lungs burning in agony as if filling with liquid fire, terror swallowed her like a wave as she desperately clung to the last shreds of her consciousness before her mind began to fade.
But then something solid and strong grasped her arm and pulled. Jerking her back to awareness and survival.
Splashing out of the freezing waters, Maeve gasped deeply, her chest expanding and filling with the cold night air as she coughed and spit out water. Screams and shouts and high piercing screeches reverberated everywhere as if a horrific nightmare was exploding right next to her.
"Grab the line!" Robin was yelling at her in the water, clutching her soaked shirt at the shoulder to pull her against him so she could reach the rope he was grasping in a death grip in his other hand, the muscles in his arm pulled taut under his wet skin.
Blinking droplets of water out of her eyes, Maeve kicked her legs and her fingers clawed at the air to snatch the rope while hundreds of crazed Kawasseas glided and hopped all around them in blurs of deadly silver, the chaotic frenzy making it look as if the water of the swamp was boiling.
But the worst thing was the horrible chorus of a thousand high screeches, like an army of banshees wailing in terrible fury. The night's air was filled with them, deafening, ringing in her ears with such unbearable intensity that her eardrums were painfully vibrating in her skull, threatening to rupture.
As she winced against the horrible feeling, claws were ripping at their soaked clothes and scaly glittering tails were flogging them from all sides, but Robin savagely slashed them away, the knife in his fist glinting in the moonlight.
Maeve kicked her legs again, in as fast and erratic a manner as she could to prevent Kawasseas from snatching them beneath the surface of the bubbling swamp. She could feel them gliding between her legs like snakes, cold and wet, trying to pull her down again.
Clinging to the rope for dear life next to Robin, she tried to reach for the remaining dagger lodged in her boot but in vain. Instead, a sudden string of grey weed, filamentous and sticky, wrapped around her wrist to yank her hand away from the rope.
"Robin!" Maeve shouted but his name had barely left her lips when an arrow slashed through the air and hit the Kawassea behind the head, the metal tip coming out between the empty white eyes of the creature.
As the dead silver face with black lips and perfect cheek bones sunk under the erratic splashes of water, Robin cut through the sticky twine of weed around her wrist and Maeve's head whipped around, trying to assess the extent of the chaos in the swamp.
On the main path of sinuous rocks a few yards away, soldiers and volunteers were at war with the Kawasseas, trudging along the slippery trail as fast they could, slashing their way through a bedlam of hopping silver fins and strings of sticky weed coiling around their ankles, their necks and their arms. Blades were glinting in the moonlight and arrows were whistling in the air, the long thick chain above the path of wet stones was clinking and swinging back and forth, people were shouting and screaming, pulling at the leather straps between them and clinging to their companions to prevent them from slipping into the deadly water of the fetid swamp, and Kawasseas were leaping out of the water a dozen feet into the air, their scaly silver bodies arcing above the massive chain while their bony arms snatched at anything they could grab.
As her eyes desperately travelled on the chaotic spectacle, trying to assess the progress of the crossing, her heart sunk like a cold heavy stone in her stomach as she spotted Coop and Simon at the rear with a couple of other soldiers. They hadn't even begun the perilous crossing yet, still waiting to step onto the wicked path of stones.
This was bad, she thought wildly, but right then, she became aware of the tension in the rope she was grasping and to her unexpected surprise, when her eyes travelled to the other end, they rested on Mark and Leo, the two soldiers standing on the safe haven of the opposite bank of the swamp and energetically pulling her and Robin back towards them.
With a fleeting jolt of relief, she realized that it meant at least half of the trek line had made it safely ashore, with soldiers and volunteers lined up by the water to release a shower of arrows down on the swamp so their comrades still stuck on the main path could finish the crossing with as little harm as possible.
But still, the odds weren't looking good.
As Robin slashed at the Kawasseas trashing around them, claws and fins flailing everywhere, Maeve cursed under her breath. In the confusion of blinding splashes and frenzied waves, she couldn't use fireballs and the movements of the silver creatures were too unpredictable and chaotic to conjure any other sort of offensive magic effectively. Aside from kicking and punching, she could do nothing except cling to the rope and maintain a death grip on Robin's shirt to hold him close lest the Kawasseas tore him away from her.
Shivering violently and no longer able to feel her toes and her fingers, Maeve's teeth were clattering so hard she thought they would break, but she kept on kicking towards the safety of the shore, hoping to facilitate Mark and Leo's pull.
The rocky bank was almost within their reach when a calculating Kawassea sprung out of the water with a deafening screech, fangs bared and glinting in her black mouth, and suddenly the tension in the rope went dead.
Maeve coughed out water as a wave swallowed her briefly, her hand fisting in Robin's shirt with an iron grip. Blinking against the icy droplets in her eyes, she kicked her numb legs over and over again, navigating blindly through the erratic hopping of silvery fins and scaly tails.
When her shoulder bumped against a rock, her heart skipped a wild painful beat and her fingers clawed to hold on.
"Climb on!" Robin yelled as they both realized they had miraculously reached one of the minor rocky trails that spanned the swamp.
Elbowing a Kawassea in the face, Maeve laboriously hoisted herself out of the water, crawling on the slick, moss-covered stones while her fingers snatched Robin's arms to pull him up beside her.
Soaking wet, they staggered to their feet and hopped on the rocks towards the shore while arrows whistled past their ears to hamper the retaliation of angry Kawasseas swarming in the raging waters at their feet.
Despite his wounded ankle Robin was running as fast as she was, but Maeve could tell it wasn't without a great deal of pain. She had just caught his arm to steady him as he nearly tripped on a patch of slimy muck when a blur of silver shot out of the water with a piercing cry and collided with them, sending them both sprawling down on the sinuous trail.
Maeve felt the air leave her lungs at the rough impact but before she could roll over, the weight of a slimy Kawassea pinned her down against the rocks, the creature writhing like an eel above her and clawing at her face.
Maeve grabbed at the bony hands to protect herself and ward off the violent attacks, twisting her body to escape, but then the weight abruptly vanished as Robin threw himself at the wicked mermaid, wrestling it down in a tangled of flailing tail and glinting knife.
But the dead Kawassea had barely gone still when a vine of sticky weed shut out of nowhere and wrapped itself around Robin's ankle like a snare and pulled him down, sucking him back towards the dark waters.
Maeve dashed forward on the mud-covered stones, landing flat on her stomach as she grabbed his arms just in time, but the pull was so strong she could barely counter it. Her fingers dug in his skin and her elbows scraped on the stones as she desperately tried to anchor her weight down to hold on to him.
There were so many splashes in the raging waters she couldn't even see the Kawassea who had ensnared him, and as she debated throwing a random fireball in the chaos, another mermaid leaped out of the boiling surface and crashed down on her.
Stifling a scream, Maeve kicked at the silver body in vain, hunching her shoulders to protect herself against the razor-sharp claws that rained down on her while maintaining a desperate grip on Robin's arms, refusing to let go.
When another flash of silver shot out the water once more and landed beside her, scaly tail flapping and white eyes burning with bloodlust, Maeve thought her fate was officially sealed but then a familiar buzz of magic vibrated in the air like the music of salvation.
The wails of the two Kawasseas that followed the Sleyans' touch were ear-splitting and bone-chilling and Maeve thought her eardrums would rupture for good, but still she held on to Robin and a second later Leisa was bouncing above their heads, a blade cutting through the string of deadly seaweed around Robin's ankle.
"Come on! Move it!" The Radakeel barked, hoisting them both to their feet and pushing them towards the bank as arrows flew past their heads.
As soon as Maeve's feet touched solid ground a wall of soldiers closed in behind her and she was safely steered her away from the dangers of the swamp, into the gloom of the forest where the rest of the convoy huddled close together, women clutching terrorized children against them and wounded men quietly wailing in pain on the ground.
Next thing she knew she was sitting down on a log, shaking like a leaf in her soaked clothes sticking to her skin and Robin was kneeling before her, breathless and dripping wet just like her, his hands cupping her face in wild concern.
"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" he asked her over and over again, checking her for severe damage.
Maeve shook her head in response, trembling and with her teeth clattering as she grappled for the scraps of her shaken composure.
Struggling to get her breathing in check, she glanced around, her eyes resting on the pale quivering civilians clustered amongst the sinuous dark trees, battered and bruised and shivering in their damp clothes while the muffled cries and shouts and screeches of the messy battle continued to rage beyond the crooked trees.
Her heart was thundering in her chest like a storm, with fear still pulsing strong in her veins, but when she met the imploring gazes of the women silently weeping and praying for their men to survive the dreadful crossing, she knew she had to try something. She couldn't hide in the shadows of the woods and wait for it all to be over. She had promised them no one would die tonight.
"I have to do something…" she murmured in a daze, her limbs stiff from the cold as she stood up.
"You can't go back there," Robin quickly rose to his feet as well and gripped her arm. "If you can hear the Kawasseas' song-"
"I can't hear them anymore," Maeve cut him off and slipped out of his grasp.
It was the truth. She could no longer hear the crystalline melody from before because right now every single sound in the deadly swamp was currently drowned by shouts and screams.
With the tingling of magic simmering in her core, she quickly weaved her way back towards the dangerous shore, her focus narrowing on one simple task while Robin trotted after her with his sprained ankle.
"Maeve, this is too dangerous," he protested wildly. "You can't-"
When they emerged on the muddy banks, the ongoing fight exploded in front of them once again, the surface of the fetid bog boiling like liquid silver under a shower of arrows, the Kawasseas screeching in the night like hundreds of unleashed banshees.
Maeve had no idea if she could even pull off what she had in mind, but she had to try. She had made a promise to these brave people.
Scanning the rows of soldiers and volunteers poised on the shore and repeatedly pulling the string of their bows and loosing arrows, her eyes fell on a mane of red braids and a pair of deadly Sleyans.
"Stay here," Maeve turned to Robin, stopping him in his tracks with a hand to his chest. "Make sure everyone gets safely ashore and don't touch the water."
"What-"
"Trust me," Maeve cut him off again, locking eyes with him with iron resolve and a silent plea.
Robin held her gaze heavily, his entire body radiating protectiveness like smoke, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, a quiet battle raging in the shadows of his eyes.
When he reluctantly nodded at last, agreeing to let her go despite his obvious aversion to the whole situation, she quickly wheeled around and squeezed herself through the throng of soldiers.
"Leisa!" she called out to the Radakeel, whose head and blood-red braids immediately whipped in her direction. "Come with me!"
With a quick nod, the woman kicked a hissing Kawassea in the face as the creature attempted to crawl on shore and swiftly fell into steps with Maeve, the two of them marching towards the main rocky path spanning the swamp where a long caterpillar of soldiers and civilians was still struggling to make it safely to solid ground.
"I need you to cover me!" Maeve called over her shoulder over the deafening chaos of battle so Leisa could hear her.
"What are you going to do?" The Radakeel asked, raising her voice to be heard.
"Pray for a miracle," Maeve replied under her breath, pulling her sword from its sheathe on her back and steeling herself as she stepped back onto the main path amidst the throng of people rushing to the shore and clutching the leather straps between them, anything not to fall into the raging waters trashing with Kawasseas.
Leisa walked in her steps like a second shadow, Sleyans at the ready and slashing the air to parry attacks from the screeching mermaids hopping all around them, claws and fangs glinting in the night.
Maeve shouted encouragements to everyone she met along her way, catching them before they tripped and fell, urging them forward, squeezing their hands in reassurance, all the while kicking white bony arms when they struck out, swinging her sword to slash at scaly bodies when they thrust out of the water, and throwing fireballs when Kawasseas ensnared people with sticky vines.
It wasn't until they reached the middle of the swamp when she finally stopped in the string of rushing soldiers and civilians and took her stand. Leisa poised herself by her side like a protective panther and, Sleyans slicing the air, made sure nothing could touch her.
Maeve took a deep breath and crouched down, knowing that every second counted. Reaching deep within her core, blocking everything from her mind, she extended her hands over the troubled waters of the foul swamp and let magic flow through her, hoping beyond hope that she had the strength to conjure up what she desperately needed to put an end to the Kawasseas' assaults. There was only one problem: fire did not mingle well with water. Water would win over the flames of her magic, dousing its power like a gust of wind blows out a candle.
She needed to bend elemental rules, or rather find the way of least resistance.
She had no idea how to do that. Igniting flames under water was impossible.
But still she let the fire in her blood flow, splaying her fingers over the turbulent water of the swamp and waiting for the flames to lick at her skin.
But the water kept extinguishing it, wet and cold and unforgiving.
"Wikken Hells," Maeve swore loudly under her breath, desperately trying to summon a condensed ball of fire, as strong and destructive as she could fashion it, praying for the same outburst of power she had managed to unleash against the Skinwalkers many days before, merciless and deadly.
But she couldn't. The flames beneath her palms were blistering hot, yet they were no match for the ice-cold waters of the marsh.
"Anytime now!" Leisa shouted at her with urgency as she rammed a Sleyan in a Kawassea's face, while Maeve ducked her head to avoid a string of sticky weed that missed her by an inch.
Her blood pulsed with rising alarm and her breath itched in her chest. Time was ticking. She had to make this work.
"Come on, come on," she muttered under her breath, shaking her hands above the water as if to force the magic out of skin.
And then it dawned on her. The essence of her core was fire. Fire at its peak. Blistering and destructive and explosive. Deadly outburst of flames she could conjure and focus and bend to her will. But there was another side of fire she could use, another aspect of its elemental core, calm and comforting and warm.
Heat.
Her spirit jolted with wild hope as she spread both of her hands over the surface of the dark water again, shutting her eyes close as she focused her energy differently, to slow down the flow of magic within her, dousing the flames to simple heat, her palms suddenly igniting with an orange glow as she prayed to whatever spirits who would hear her desperate call.
Against all odds, she felt the water under her palm warm, the coldness chased away by the magic that pulsed beneath her hands, spreading deeper and wider into the putrid swamp. A growing cloud of heat, a steady outflow of elemental fire soaking through the vast marsh inch by inch in every direction, like poison pumping into veins, meeting no resistance.
She could feel the magic slowly draining out of her, sucking at her core and licking at her bones but she gritted her teeth and held on, maintaining the steady outpour of heat through her hands as best as she could, until the turbulent waters of the swamp became hotter and hotter, steam forming on the surface and rising into her face and her eyes.
She could hear Leisa behind her, the Radakeel hurriedly herding the soldiers and the civilians on the rocky trail as fast as she could, while the vicious wails of the savage Kawasseas morphed into something different, something that almost sounded like confusion and panic and even pain.
The swamp began to boil then, angry bubbles of heat breaking the surface all around her hands and everywhere in the bog, with the scaly bodies of the mermaids trashing in the water with screams and shrieks, the terrifying creatures unable to tolerate the rapid rising of temperature in their lair.
Her hands shook above the water, her powers dwindling with every second that went by as her blood pounded in her temples. But she bit her lips and willed her energy levels to remain steady, digging into the last shreds of her forces so the outflow of heated magic would continue to pulse beneath her palms. She could feel herself trembling where she was kneeling, as if her entire body was matching the temperature of the water, with sweat beading on her forehead like a rising fever, her own blood boiling in her veins and searing her flesh.
But she pushed on as much as she could, watching as some of the Kawasseas went still in the water, blind eyes staring blankly at the stars above them in the night sky, while others seemed to angrily dive below the surface, as if they were retreating as deep as they could into the depths of the swamp where it might be cooler, the only place they could escape the blistering heat of the surface.
After endless seconds, the banshee-like wails of the creatures slowly died down, trading their place for the feeble bubbling sound of the boiling waters, and by the time Maeve removed her hands and wearily sat back on her heels to catch her breath, her heart hammering in her ribcage like a loud drum, the entire swamp had turned deadly silent, the shouts and the screams lost into the night.
The dark waters continued to boil and froth for a few more moments, until slowly the surface of the marsh returned to its original state, black and eerily calm, save from the residual hot steam that was still puffing up into the air like smoke.
The only thing that broke the gathering silence was the chorus of elated cheers that suddenly erupted all around her as she stood up in exhaustion.
As the last of the convoy moved past her and Leisa in jubilation, with grins stamped on their flushed faces, Simon and Coop came hurrying towards her as they closed the march on the main rocky path.
They were laughing like mad men and before she knew it Coop was crushing her in his arms. "That was brilliant!"
Still winded from the magical exertion yet immensely relieved she hadn't fainted this time around, Maeve returned the archer's elated embrace, a tired smile stretching her lips while everyone cheered, smiled and hugged each other in overwhelming relief and blind joy.
Leisa was quick to usher them back to shore though, eager to return to solid ground, and as the rest of the convoy finally reached the safe side of the swamp at last, with Maeve, Simon and Coop closing the march, they finally joined the other soldiers and civilians as victorious cheers continued to echo all around in the night.
People flocked to her like birds, showering her with hugs and smiles, squeezing her hands and thanking her a thousand times and blessing her for her magic. Her legs were still shaky and her pulse was throbbing in her head, but she welcomed every gesture with kind smiles, the spectacle of reuniting soldiers and civilians gleaming and happy in the darkness of the night the most beautiful thing she had seen in quite a while and acting like a balm on her frayed nerves.
She had kept her promise.
No one had died tonight. They were all safe.
When they found each other in the blissful crowd, Mark and Leo threw themselves at Simon and Coop, the gruff men embracing each other in wild relief while Leisa merely stood back and contended herself with a few pats on the back.
Drained and light-headed, Maeve knew she would have to sit down soon not to collapse, but then little Rose and Sam came running towards her and she quickly crouched down to engulf them in a tight hug, their tiny arms wrapping around her neck in return as their young parents trotted after them.
After Ally and David thanked her for the umpteenth time, with faces dancing before her eyes in the middle of the elated crowd, Maeve spotted Robin as he limped his way towards his companions, his features alight with something she could not quite name.
When he locked eyes with her, his blue gaze bright and arresting, her vision suddenly blurred at the edges like a tunnel, her bones rattling for timeless seconds before she felt herself move, her feet guiding her through the sea of people to reach him.
Squeezing past his men, Robin marched towards her as well, quick and urgent, reducing the distance that separated them with every limping step he took until they crashed into each other.
His arms coiled around her, crushing her against him as she shut her eyes close and held on, her knees nearly buckling in overwhelming fatigue. A low growl escaped him, vibrating in his chest, as if he was unable to contain the sheer relief of seeing her unharmed, while she simply melted against him and welcomed the respite of his embrace, the tension slowly bleeding out of her like it had after her nightmare.
He had saved her life tonight.
When the first Kawassea had pulled her down, he had jumped into the swamp after her, and amidst the deadly chaos of raging mermaids determined to drown her, he had found her and pulled her back to the surface.
Tears stung her eyes as the thought sent an intrusive stab of pain in her heart, like a blade twisting between her ribs.
Two months ago Sinbad had also jumped after her when she fell overboard.
But Dim-Dim had snatched her away before he could find her. Before he could save her.
She didn't know why the comparison popped inside her head but she knew it was an unfair one.
Robin had jumped into a swamp. Sinbad had dived into an ocean.
Weighting one situation against the other was unjust and cruel, but still her wounded heart dwelled on the painful memories, like a self-destructive moth frying itself on a flame.
And then something tugged at the back of her mind.
Crushed in his protective arms, she knew for a fact that Robin never would have forgiven himself if he had failed to rescue her tonight, which made her wonder just how deep Sinbad's guilt might have cut him after the storm, after he had lost her…
Were the cruel hands of fate tormenting him as well? Ripping him apart with regret and longing?
The question haunted her, possible answers spilling inside her head like a confusing black morass, until her mind plagued her with a flash of what she had seen in the brook, the searing image of him and the dark-haired harlot in the candlelight, his lips drinking from her mouth while her fingers dug in his back…
But she quickly banished the painful memory, locking it as far away as she could inside her mind.
It didn't matter.
Not now.
Not when the cheers of the soldiers and the civilians continued to echo in the night.
Not when Robin's arms were locked around her securely.
They were alive. They had survived the crossing of the Kawasseas' swamp. No one had died.
Just a few more days and she would see the sun again.
The crossing of the Blind Mountains was coming to an end.
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
—My Jolly Sailor Bold, Ashley Serena