Seeds of Rebellion
Page 60
“Watch for a place to camp,” Galloran said.
“Why not go all night?” Aram suggested.
“The swamp slumbers during the day. Dangerous creatures patrol the waters after dark. We’ll increase our chances of survival if we spend the night in our boats, up on an island.”
As the swamp dimmed, they pulled the boats up on one of the largest islands they had seen all day, arranging the crafts close together. In the fading light, luminous thumb-size slugs became visible on the trees.
Jason commented on the slugs.
“This portion of the swamp glows all night,” Nedwin confirmed. “By tomorrow evening, we should reach the section of the swamp controlled by the frogs. Few slugs survive there.”
Nedwin handed out orchid buds. Rachel eagerly consumed the flavorless gel inside. Her horrible odor was much better than stings or bites from prehistoric insects.
The clamor of the swamp began as Rachel curled up in the bottom of the skiff, uncomfortable but exhausted. Crickets chirped so noisily, the skiff seemed full of them. From up in the trees came warbling hoots and staccato bursts of clacking. Occasionally she heard long, low moans in the distance. But without the barking croaks of the huge frogs, the night was not quite so uproarious as her previous experience in the swamp.
As always, Drake took watch, since he never truly slept. The slugs seemed ever brighter as the rest of the swamp faded to true darkness.
With predawn light filtering through the canopy, Nedwin jostled the others awake. They intended to set off early to take advantage of Aram at the oars.
Rachel helped shove the skiff into the water, slipping and planting one hand deep in the mud. She jumped aboard the skiff as it drifted away from the island, dipping her hand in the lukewarm water to wash off the worst of the clinging muck. While wiping the black mud from her fingers, Rachel discovered a leech attached to the back of her hand. She ground her teeth to suppress a shriek.
“I think I picked up a leech,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady as hysteria welled up inside.
“Translucent?” Galloran asked.
Rachel inspected the membranous creature. “Yeah, almost transparent.” Jason stared at it over her shoulder.
“A jelly leech,” Galloran said. “What size?”
“No bigger than my pinkie.”
“Do not seek to detach it,” Galloran warned. “Such action will provoke the injection of a most irritating venom.”
“What do I do?” Rachel felt painful suction and stared as her blood began to flow into the translucent leech, a spreading red stain inside the rubbery body. “It’s sucking!” She bit her lower lip, trying not to scream.
“The creature will detach when sated. Be grateful it is so small.”
Jason rubbed her shoulders. “You’ll be okay,” he encouraged.
Rachel watched in disgust as the creature reddened, bulging with the inflow of blood. Just when she thought the leech looked ready to burst, it detached and fell to the bottom of the skiff.
“It finished,” Jason said.
“Throw it overboard,” Galloran said. “As far as you can. We must keep away from the scent of blood.”
Jason tweezed the leech between thumb and forefinger, stood, and tossed it away with a motion that rocked the skiff. The red leech landed on a little island strewn with messy webs. Rachel rubbed the back of her hand, where a purple bruise was forming.
With Aram at the oars, and the canoes keeping up, they made rapid progress. The trees became spaced farther apart, and the trunks seemed thicker. Off to one side of the boat was an open area with no trees.
“I see some open water,” Aram grunted softly.
“Keep away,” Galloran advised. “We do not want to trifle with the great beasts who inhabit the deep places of the swamp.”
“What are they?” Jason asked quietly.
“Winari,” Galloran said. “Some of the oldest and largest organisms in the world. Theirs are the groaning calls we heard in the night. We would all perish if one caught us. They’re typically dormant during the day, but we’ll avoid the risk.”
As they rowed onward, the swollen masses of fungus became more plentiful on the tree trunks, in dreary shades of yellow and orange. Towering fungal columns rose from muddy islands, stretching toward the leafy canopy above, swaying away from the boats when they came near.
They were rowing through a grove of colossal, widespread trees with no muddy islands in sight when Galloran whispered, “Too quiet.”
“What?” Aram asked.
Galloran lifted a cautionary hand. “Something is amiss.”
Rachel peered around. With dawn approaching, the still waterscape looked almost bright. The daytime noises of the swamp did not rival the nighttime cacophony. But there always seemed to be some hooting in the trees, or buzzing wings, or little clicks, or faint chittering, or distant splashes. With the paddles out of the water, Rachel heard nothing.
To one side, Rachel heard the gentle slosh of disturbed water. Twisting, she saw a translucent snake wriggling up and over the side of the skiff.
“Snake!” she cried.
“Leech!” Jason corrected, drawing his sword.
As Rachel scrunched away from it, Jason’s blade hacked through the membranous body. Part of the leech withdrew into the water, but about two feet of it was left squirming in the bottom of the skiff. Aram scooped an oar underneath it and catapulted the gelatinous segment overboard.
Splashing up from the water, another serpentine jelly leech hung poised in the air before whipping at Jason. Swinging his sword defensively, Jason saw the flat of the blade slap the leech aside before he toppled backward into Rachel, who steadied him. As the leech stretched toward Dorsio, knives flashed in his hands, slicing off the tip of the leech and then two more segments. What remained of the leech reared away, rising even higher out of the water. Only then did Rachel realize that the leech was actually a tentacle.
“Grullions!” Nedwin shouted.
A new tentacle seized the skiff at the stern, making the vessel buck and spin. The sudden motion jolted Rachel down to a seated position. Jason dropped to his knees. Diving, Nedwin slashed the tentacle with a long knife, severing several feet of it. The rest withdrew over the gunwale. Nedwin skewered the squirming section and flipped it into the water.
As the boat rotated slowly, Rachel drew her knife. It felt way too small. Aram, standing at the center of the skiff with his enormous sword in hand, hauled Jason to his feet.
“Foul luck,” Galloran spat, squatting beside Aram.
“Why not go all night?” Aram suggested.
“The swamp slumbers during the day. Dangerous creatures patrol the waters after dark. We’ll increase our chances of survival if we spend the night in our boats, up on an island.”
As the swamp dimmed, they pulled the boats up on one of the largest islands they had seen all day, arranging the crafts close together. In the fading light, luminous thumb-size slugs became visible on the trees.
Jason commented on the slugs.
“This portion of the swamp glows all night,” Nedwin confirmed. “By tomorrow evening, we should reach the section of the swamp controlled by the frogs. Few slugs survive there.”
Nedwin handed out orchid buds. Rachel eagerly consumed the flavorless gel inside. Her horrible odor was much better than stings or bites from prehistoric insects.
The clamor of the swamp began as Rachel curled up in the bottom of the skiff, uncomfortable but exhausted. Crickets chirped so noisily, the skiff seemed full of them. From up in the trees came warbling hoots and staccato bursts of clacking. Occasionally she heard long, low moans in the distance. But without the barking croaks of the huge frogs, the night was not quite so uproarious as her previous experience in the swamp.
As always, Drake took watch, since he never truly slept. The slugs seemed ever brighter as the rest of the swamp faded to true darkness.
With predawn light filtering through the canopy, Nedwin jostled the others awake. They intended to set off early to take advantage of Aram at the oars.
Rachel helped shove the skiff into the water, slipping and planting one hand deep in the mud. She jumped aboard the skiff as it drifted away from the island, dipping her hand in the lukewarm water to wash off the worst of the clinging muck. While wiping the black mud from her fingers, Rachel discovered a leech attached to the back of her hand. She ground her teeth to suppress a shriek.
“I think I picked up a leech,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady as hysteria welled up inside.
“Translucent?” Galloran asked.
Rachel inspected the membranous creature. “Yeah, almost transparent.” Jason stared at it over her shoulder.
“A jelly leech,” Galloran said. “What size?”
“No bigger than my pinkie.”
“Do not seek to detach it,” Galloran warned. “Such action will provoke the injection of a most irritating venom.”
“What do I do?” Rachel felt painful suction and stared as her blood began to flow into the translucent leech, a spreading red stain inside the rubbery body. “It’s sucking!” She bit her lower lip, trying not to scream.
“The creature will detach when sated. Be grateful it is so small.”
Jason rubbed her shoulders. “You’ll be okay,” he encouraged.
Rachel watched in disgust as the creature reddened, bulging with the inflow of blood. Just when she thought the leech looked ready to burst, it detached and fell to the bottom of the skiff.
“It finished,” Jason said.
“Throw it overboard,” Galloran said. “As far as you can. We must keep away from the scent of blood.”
Jason tweezed the leech between thumb and forefinger, stood, and tossed it away with a motion that rocked the skiff. The red leech landed on a little island strewn with messy webs. Rachel rubbed the back of her hand, where a purple bruise was forming.
With Aram at the oars, and the canoes keeping up, they made rapid progress. The trees became spaced farther apart, and the trunks seemed thicker. Off to one side of the boat was an open area with no trees.
“I see some open water,” Aram grunted softly.
“Keep away,” Galloran advised. “We do not want to trifle with the great beasts who inhabit the deep places of the swamp.”
“What are they?” Jason asked quietly.
“Winari,” Galloran said. “Some of the oldest and largest organisms in the world. Theirs are the groaning calls we heard in the night. We would all perish if one caught us. They’re typically dormant during the day, but we’ll avoid the risk.”
As they rowed onward, the swollen masses of fungus became more plentiful on the tree trunks, in dreary shades of yellow and orange. Towering fungal columns rose from muddy islands, stretching toward the leafy canopy above, swaying away from the boats when they came near.
They were rowing through a grove of colossal, widespread trees with no muddy islands in sight when Galloran whispered, “Too quiet.”
“What?” Aram asked.
Galloran lifted a cautionary hand. “Something is amiss.”
Rachel peered around. With dawn approaching, the still waterscape looked almost bright. The daytime noises of the swamp did not rival the nighttime cacophony. But there always seemed to be some hooting in the trees, or buzzing wings, or little clicks, or faint chittering, or distant splashes. With the paddles out of the water, Rachel heard nothing.
To one side, Rachel heard the gentle slosh of disturbed water. Twisting, she saw a translucent snake wriggling up and over the side of the skiff.
“Snake!” she cried.
“Leech!” Jason corrected, drawing his sword.
As Rachel scrunched away from it, Jason’s blade hacked through the membranous body. Part of the leech withdrew into the water, but about two feet of it was left squirming in the bottom of the skiff. Aram scooped an oar underneath it and catapulted the gelatinous segment overboard.
Splashing up from the water, another serpentine jelly leech hung poised in the air before whipping at Jason. Swinging his sword defensively, Jason saw the flat of the blade slap the leech aside before he toppled backward into Rachel, who steadied him. As the leech stretched toward Dorsio, knives flashed in his hands, slicing off the tip of the leech and then two more segments. What remained of the leech reared away, rising even higher out of the water. Only then did Rachel realize that the leech was actually a tentacle.
“Grullions!” Nedwin shouted.
A new tentacle seized the skiff at the stern, making the vessel buck and spin. The sudden motion jolted Rachel down to a seated position. Jason dropped to his knees. Diving, Nedwin slashed the tentacle with a long knife, severing several feet of it. The rest withdrew over the gunwale. Nedwin skewered the squirming section and flipped it into the water.
As the boat rotated slowly, Rachel drew her knife. It felt way too small. Aram, standing at the center of the skiff with his enormous sword in hand, hauled Jason to his feet.
“Foul luck,” Galloran spat, squatting beside Aram.
