The dream revealed the city of Sanctuary ablaze with the fires of war. The white walls that had long protected the city from invasion had been breached and the streets were now flooded with all kinds of dark creatures united under the Order of the Shadow: Dispirits, Gorewings, Scrills, ogres, trolls, dragons, phantoms and more. Sceleris’ armies outnumbered the Resistance six-to-one but the Codebearers continued fighting to protect their homes and way of life.
Flames were scattered throughout the city, burning buildings to the ground and belching dark plumes of smoke into the sky, which was also alive with combat. Winged warriors from both armies battled in an amazing display of aerial warfare, though it was difficult to tell who was winning.
Venator stood outside the walls of the city with a satisfied smile. Things were going well for the Shadow; Sceleris would be pleased. The Resistance was falling and he felt closer to victory than ever before. He watched the battle unfold from a grassy hill overlooking the scene.
A winged Gorewing bearing a black steel sword approached Venator, landing beside him and kneeling in deference. I recognized him immediately as the swordsman who had tried to capture me earlier that day. Faith had escaped, but apparently the creature was not killed.
“Rise, Kane,” Venator said with an almost cheery disposition. He was in a good mood, the battle was going well. “What news do you bring?”
“It is the boy,” the Gorewing reported. “We found him on Inire, as you said. He was attempting to cross the Crimson Mountains.”
“Predictable. He was captured, I assume?”
At this, the bat-faced warrior looked down in disappointment.
“Strangler was killed by the bird, and Rathclaw had the boy in his grasp while I chased after the Thunderbird, but…”
“But what?” Venator’s mood turned sour. He knew the rest of the report would not be acceptable.
The Gorewing continued, choosing his words carefully. “The bird disappeared and when I returned to accompany Rathclaw, he was missing as well. I searched the area and found his body. His wing had been severed by a Veritas Sword, and…”
“And the boy?” Venator interrupted.
“The boy was not with him. I fear he escaped.”
“Escaped!” Venator screamed. “I send three highly trained warriors on a simple recovery mission to capture a boy and you come back empty handed. Explain to me how that is possible!”
“Sir, I…”
“Hold your tongue, Kane, or it may be the last word you ever speak.” Venator’s staff glowed with his anger. The guard stood speechless under the threat of death.
“You are fortunate I don’t kill you now for your carelessness. Instead, I am giving you a chance to redeem yourself. The boy couldn’t have gone far. Take as many warriors as you need and comb the forests. When you find him, bring him back alive.”
“I will not disappoint you,” the guard said, thankful to be given a second chance.
“I expect not,” Venator said, eyeing Kane as he knelt once more before leaving. The Gorewing stood to go, then Venator continued, “And Kane...”
“Yes, my liege?” came the reply.
“If you do fail, you might consider doing yourself a favor. Don’t let me see you again alive,” Venator said, turning his back to the winged one.
“Yes, my liege,” the Gorewing snarled, leaping for the skies once more.
Fwoop, fwoop, fwoop! The flapping of wings nearby jolted me awake with a start. I sat up and hit my head on the stone overhead, only to fall back in pain. Ouch! That was going to leave a mark. I covered my mouth to muffle the groan as best I could and rubbed my forehead.
Glancing through the forest around me I searched the foliage, expecting to see a Gorewing appear from behind a tree at any moment. Needless to say, I was relieved when a jet-black raven flew up from the forest floor to a tree nearby with a loud fwoop, fwoop, fwoop! Apparently morning was on its way and even though the sun had not yet risen, the early birds were already hard at work looking for breakfast.
The rain had finally stopped and the sky was clear. If my sleeping arrangements had been more comfortable I might have considered rolling over to catch a little more shut-eye. But until I was safe inside Aviad’s stronghold there was no use trying to get more sleep.
Rolling out from my hiding place beneath the stone, I discovered my left arm had fallen asleep and was completely numb and useless. Rubbing my arm as it slowly tingled to life I surveyed the area, looking for the path that had led me this far into the forest. The ground was wet and muddy, but the path should have been just a few paces away. Sure enough, there it was—the red dirt from the Crimson Mountains continued to the lowlands, making it easy to spot.
I gathered my things, ignited my sword again for a little extra light and began winding my way through the forest. Unfortunately, I hadn’t gone far when the path ended at the edge of a swampy marshland, stopping me in my tracks. The surface of the water was coated in green slime, providing the perfect hiding place for the things living below. The smell was awful, like hard-boiled eggs. The stagnant bog spanned as far as my eyes could see, speckled with small scrubby plants, tall grass and trees nearly buried in stringy moss.
“Okay, now what?” I wondered aloud, holding my sword out in front of me, straining to see another way around. There was none; I had reached a dead end. The trail I was following disappeared into the murky water, leaving a blind path in front of me.
I lowered my sword in disappointment, then something caught my eye—a reflection in the water. The red path beneath the bog was responding to the glow of my sword. As long as I held it near the surface of the water, the red pathway beneath shone brightly up through the mire, marking my way with a crimson glow.
“Well, it looks like you’re going to get wet again!” I sulked to myself.
With nowhere else to go, I rolled up my pant legs and stepped out into the murky bog, following the red glow of the path beneath it. One slow step at a time I sloshed my way through the swamp. It started only ankle deep, but before long I was up to my knees in the putrid mire. Still, as long as the reflection of the pathway responded to the sword I intended to trudge through it, hoping with each new step that I would soon come to a clearing and see the stone steps leading up to the Refuge. The morning sun broke over the horizon and made my travel much easier. The red road glistened in the sunlight and I tucked my sword away, no longer needing it to find the path.
A few steps later, a giant arm shot out from behind a tree and grabbed my leg, lifting me upside down several feet in the air.
“I caught you, thief!” a gruff voice growled, as I met my attacker face to face.
At first glance I might have said it was a giant man that had caught me. His skin was fair and human-like in appearance, his head completely bald. But that is where the similarities ended—he had no nose to speak of—just a couple of holes nestled directly between two slits of eyes. A pair of fangs protruded upward from his lower jaw, which was shifted slightly forward from the rest of his face and surrounded by a goatee.
“Thought you could steal from my swamp, did ya, boy?” he spat as he spoke.
“What? No! I’m just passing through, I swear. I didn’t take anything,” I begged.
“Hmmmm. We’ll see ’bout that. Hold still,” he said as he gripped my waist with his free hand and flipped me over to examine closer. I looked him over in disgust. If I had to guess, I’d say he was some kind of swamp troll. He wore no clothes except a loincloth; his chest was hairy and bare. He held me tightly in one hand while his other hand hung down near his knees, holding a giant club that he set down to examine me. He pulled at my pants, tearing the legs up the seams a little.
“Hey, watch it. Those are my good jeans!” I threatened, knowing full well I didn’t scare him at all.
“Ah ha!” he exclaimed, pulling a knife from his side and bringing it up to my leg.
“Whoa! What are you going to do with that?” I demanded.
“Hold still, I said!”
There was nothing I wanted to do less than to hold still while he tore at my leg with a knife, but when you’re held tight in a death grip, you don’t have much choice. He seemed to be poking at my legs but I didn’t feel anything. Then with a quick jab near my calf, I heard a faint squeal and he pulled his knife up to reveal what I hadn’t felt. There, squirming on the end of his knife was an eight-inch leech.
“See! I knew you was a thief! You been stealin’ my leeches, haven’t ya, boy? Thought you could come down here and get yourself some food from my swamp, did ya?”
He bit off one end of the screaming leech, silencing it for good. I nearly gagged at the sight.
“No, I…I didn’t even know it was there!”
“You know what I thinks?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t possibly imagine what was going through the head of this simple brute.
“I thinks you’re lying!”
The way he said it reminded me of a school bully who was about to dish out a whomping. I could tell there was no reasoning with the man…or troll…or whatever he was. “What are you going to do with me?” I asked, hoping he’d realize I was of no use to him and let me go.
“The same thing I do with every thief what steals from my swamp,” he grinned. I swallowed hard, not wanting to hear. He pulled the remainder of the leech off the knife with his teeth, chomping happily on his snack, and picked up his club. Slinging me over his shoulder, he carried me off, tromping through the swamp with little effort, in the general direction I was heading to begin with.
The troll’s home was only ten minutes away and was much more elaborate than I would have given him credit for. It was almost a small castle, nestled alongside a hill surrounded by the bog. Anyone else would probably consider the location unlivable, but for the swamp man it was probably prime real estate.
Once inside, he stripped me of my belongings and removed three more leeches from my legs before tossing me into a darkened cell.
“Welcome to your new home, slave!” he said, slamming the door behind me. I couldn’t believe my misfortune. Here I was so close to the end of my journey, trapped by a…well…whatever he was. Never in my life had I wanted to be home more than I did now.
“Hunter?” I heard a voice call from over my shoulder. The voice was familiar but I couldn’t place it. I turned around to see a boy approaching out of the shadows. As he passed into the light, my mouth dropped open in shock.
“Stretch! You’re alive…!”
Smack!
My greeting was cut short when Stretch landed a swift punch to my face, catching me completely off guard. I fell backward from the blow and he lunged on top of me, wrestling me to the ground in a fit of rage.
“Stretch, what are you doing?” I said, trying to defend myself from another well-aimed blow.
“Giving you what you deserve!” he growled.
I had never seen Stretch act like this before. He had never been able to assert himself well back home.
“This is all your fault,” he continued. “You brought us into this, Hunter! Because of you I’m never going to get home again!”
I grabbed his fists and pushed him away. Stretch fell, tripping over a wooden stool on the way down, and didn’t try to get back up. Instead he scooted away into the corner, sobbing. I approached him slowly this time, palms open in front of me to make sure he knew I wasn’t upset, and put a hand on his shoulder.
“You don’t know what it’s been like, being here alone,” he finally said, sniffing and wiping his eyes with his sleeves.
“I’m sorry, Stretch,” was all I could manage to say. “I didn’t know it would end up like this.”
“Well it did!”
I paused a moment, trying to find a way to reach out to my friend. I was sure he had been through a lot, and I couldn’t blame him for being angry with me.
“For what it’s worth I’m glad to see you,” I offered.
He wiped his eyes again and looked up at me.
“Sorry about your lip,” he said.
I felt my lip; it had swollen to the size of a small balloon.
“That’s alright; you should have seen the other guy!” I laughed, trying to make light of the whole thing. It worked. Stretch started laughing, a sight that made me feel at home again.
“So what happened? You know, how did you get here?” I finally asked.
“Well, there isn’t much to tell really,” he started. “When we came through the book I ended up in a lake full of chained-up bodies and I knew you couldn’t swim, so I spent the better part of the afternoon trying to find you in the water.”
“Afternoon? You mean night, right?”
“No!”
“But it was night when I arrived at the lake,” I told him.
“It was afternoon for me,” he insisted.
“Weird, so we must have arrived at different times. That’s why you weren’t there when Hope rescued me.”
“I guess so. Who’s Hope?” he asked.
“Oh I’ll tell you later. Go ahead and finish your story first. What happened next?” As he continued, I realized our experiences in Solandria had been very different. I had been granted a pretty easy transition compared to my friend. And to think I had actually been complaining about my experience so far.
“Well, when I couldn’t find you in the water I swam for shore, hoping you had somehow managed to make it. I waited there for another day, but when you didn’t show up I thought you were dead so I headed into the woods in search of help.”
Stretch explained how he had seen the Shadow Patrol and hid in the bushes. After wandering for another day or so he was captured in a trap by Belac, the swamp-troll that owned this castle. Belac was on a hunting trip and brought Stretch home to the bog, where he was forced to work as Belac’s slave.
“So that’s how it happened,” he finished. “And I haven’t seen the light of day since.”
“You mean he just keeps you locked up in here?”
“No. He prefers to sleep during the day. Says the hunting is better at night. That’s when he takes me out.”
“Out where?”
“To the swamps mostly; he uses me as leech bait.” Stretch lifted his shirt to show the markings of leech bites all over his chest. I shivered at the thought of it. He was covered with them.
“Ouch!”
“Not really,” he replied, “it doesn’t hurt. That’s the only good part. Leeches release an anesthetic when they sink their teeth into your skin. But it does bleed—a lot.”
“Gross! How do you know that?”
“I took AP Science last year, remember? We got to study leeches for medical use. I guess it’s making a comeback. Did you know doctors are still using leeches to drain blood from swollen faces, limbs and fingers after reconstructive surgery? It’s really pretty fascinating stuff.”
That was more than I wanted to know; just the thought of letting a leech drain my blood made me shudder. They were like little blood-sucking vampires.
“What does Belac do with all of those leeches?” I asked. Before Stretch could answer, the door flew open and Belac tossed two bowls of slop onto a small wooden table pushed up against the wall.
“Eat up, ya two,” he grumbled. Then he slammed the door and lumbered away to get some sleep.
Heading over to the bowls I peeked inside. It looked like some kind of mush mixed with squirming leeches for good measure. One whiff of the slop told me all I needed to know, I wasn’t touching it. Stretch, on the other hand, wasted no time digging into his bowl.
“You’re actually eating it?” I asked.
“It’s not bad, really—once you get over the gross factor. Besides, if you want to eat while you’re here, you’re going to have to learn to like it.”
I forced myself to try a bite from my bowl but I couldn’t keep it down. Stretch went to town, finishing both of our bowls in no time at all.
I couldn’t help but feel sorry for all that Stretch had been through. While I was being stuffed full every night with Gabby’s home cooking, Stretch had been here, learning to love the taste of leech meat. I only hoped he wouldn’t hate me when I told him my story.
After lunch I did my best to catch him up to speed on my training, the mission and what was going on outside of these walls. He didn’t speak through my whole story, though his expressions betrayed his thoughts once or twice. I could tell he was realizing I had gotten the better end of the deal. I finished by handing him his lucky knight. He was genuinely glad to have it again and for a moment we both were silent. Then, at last he verbalized what I knew he had been thinking all along.
“So you mean to tell me that all this time while I thought you were dead, you were really making new friends and having a great time learning how to use one of those cool swords?”
His voice was bitter. The worst part was that it was true, though it didn’t seem nearly as convenient at the time.
“Sort of,” was all I could manage to say.
“Nice,” he said in jest, shaking his head with disbelief.
“Hey, it’s not like I had a choice. I tried looking for you but we were being hunted and I didn’t know where you were either.”
Stretch didn’t reply. I knew anything I said at this point was going to fall on deaf ears anyway. Still I had to try.
“Look. I can’t change what happened,” I offered. “I wish it was different, I really do. But we’re together again, that’s all that matters now. And we’re going to find a way to get out together.”
“How?”
“I don’t know but there’s got to be a way.”
“Do you think I’m stupid or something?” his tone surprised me. “Don’t you think I’ve been trying to find a way out ever since I got here?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Well, I can tell you now, there isn’t. I’ve tried everything already and it’s hopeless,” he replied. “It’s impossible to run in the swamp, and Belac keeps me locked up when I’m not out there anyway. So unless you have a death wish, you’ll never make it out alive.”
I looked blankly at my friend. He didn’t sound like the same guy I had known back home. Stretch was always the one who would go along with anything, even a hare-brained idea. Solandria had changed him; he had given up and resigned himself to being a prisoner for life. Couldn’t he see there were good things happening at the same time? We were together again; didn’t that count for anything?
“You want to know how to get out of this place? Ask Frank over there,” he said, pointing across the room to a skeleton collapsed in the corner and covered in dust. The poor soul had evidently been unfortunate enough to “trespass” on Belac’s land long before us.
“Unless you want to end up like him, you better start learning to like the food and playing by Belac’s rules. You got it?”
I nodded half-heartedly.
“I’m going to get some sleep,” Stretch finished, moving to his corner of the room where he’d gathered a pile of straw together into a make-shift pillow. He was out in no time, obviously already well-adjusted to the nocturnal lifestyle the troll kept. I sat against the stone wall of our prison and contemplated what the night was going to hold for us. Being leech bait was not something I was looking forward to at all.