Julien laid a raft of branches by Una to give them both a firm footing.
Una bent over to put her weight on the branches in an attempt to free her left foot—the one that wasn’t so deeply encased in the mud. She slowly and carefully tried to ease it out.
“It doesn’t seem like I’m making any progress,” Una said.
“It’s coming. I hear it,” Julien said.
And sure enough, within a few moments the bog released her foot. She fell onto the branches, landing on her knee. She circled her ankle, grateful that it still worked.
“The next one is going to be harder,” Julien said. “You might lose your boot because it’s so deep in the mud.”
Una shifted her weight on the mat to get better leverage. “As long as I don’t lose my foot.” She grunted, trying to heave her leg upward, but the mud sucked at her and it felt like she really was going to rip off her foot.
Julien listened closely to the ground near Una’s leg, then took a stick and stabbed at the mud to release the suction. He tried to wiggle it around, but all he managed to do was lose his balance and fall backward.
Una stopped, panting at the effort. “I’m not sure this is going to work.”
“It’s got to work. How about if I grab under your arms and pull with you?”
“Let me rest for a minute.”
The night had descended and the bog was now fully dark. Mist was rising, but Una could still see the same flickering light that had enticed her before.
“Do you see that?” she asked, pointing in its direction.
“What is it?”
“Vita told me a story about foxfire. That the light marks treasure left by fairies.”
“Is that where you were going?”
“Yes,” Una said, abashed. “I thought the silva plant might be there.”
“Might be, but we can’t see until we get you out. Want to give it another try?”
Una nodded. She grabbed the mat of sticks, and Julien grabbed Una under her arms. Together, they pulled with all their strength, and Una felt the mud surrounding her right leg shift. “Keep pulling!” she cried out, now lying almost completely horizontal, her left leg pushing against the frame of the branches. The mud and cold seeped into her clothes as her right leg began to rise.
“Almost there!”
Julien gave another great heave and Una hoisted herself free. They both fell on the mat, panting and covered in mud.
Una couldn’t speak until the pounding of her heart quieted and her breath returned to normal. “Thank you,” she finally said.
“You’re welcome. But I’m guessing you’re not going to want to sleep on these branches anymore, huh?”
Una could hear the smile in Julien’s voice, and she would have laughed if she had the energy. She stayed there unmoving, letting the scents of the bog waft around her: the brown earthiness, the sad musk, the twittery clover. Once again, that unusual scent came to her, caramel and bright. “Do you hear anything, Julien?” she asked. “Anything unusual?”
“Yes. I’ve been listening and wondering if that’s what you meant before.”
“The scent is growing stronger. Do you think that might be the silva?”
“It could be.”
“Do you want to try to find it now? I mean, I know it’s dark, but we’re both better versed at how this bog works. Besides, it seems like we can trust what you hear and what I smell better than we can trust what we see.”
“We could continue building this pathway out to wherever it is.”
“Exactly. We can always use some of the branches over again if we have to, but the scent is so strong here, I almost think another mat of branches might be enough.”
In the moonlight, Julien nodded. “Let’s do it.”