Birds called out a constant cacophony as Corec followed the pebble-lined trail into the village of Betan. With fewer than two hundred residents, Betan was still somehow the largest settlement along the western edge of the swamp. In contrast to the wildlife, the villagers themselves were quiet, staring in silence when Corec, Ellerie, Leena, and Josip passed by.

Half of the huts were built on land, while others perched on stilts over the murky water. A series of wooden bridges connected the stilt houses to each other and to the rest of the village, and small rowboats were bobbing in the water, tied up to the houses. Tall trees shaded the area, only allowing scattered beams of sunlight through. A bellowing growl came from just out of sight, followed by a loud splash. None of the villagers reacted, and a short time later, the growling started again.

“It’s right up here,” Josip said. “They told me he’d be back by now.”

They stopped at what appeared to be an outdoor tavern—a hut with a bar in place of one wall. Three customers, all smelling strongly of fish, sat in rickety chairs under an awning.

Josip spoke to them in rapid Nysan.

“Aye,” an elderly man answered. He wore grimy clothes and a hat with a flap that covered the back of his neck. “I’m Niklo. What ye want?”

“You speak trade tongue?” Josip asked, surprised.

“I’m speaking it, eh?”

Ellerie said, “Mr. Niklo, we’d like to hire you to help guide us across the swamp. We’re going east.”

The man looked them over, paying close attention to Corec’s greatsword and the cheap brigandine armor he was wearing. Corec had convinced Marco to pay for it before they’d left Aencyr.

“Aye, I can do that,” Niklo said, “but it’ll cost ye. Five’s too many for me boat. I’ll have ta borrow another.”

“It’s not just us. We’ve got thirteen people, plus horses and mules.”

“Ye want ta take horses across de waters?” the man asked. “Ye daft?”

“We can find a way to bring them across,” Ellerie said, glancing at Leena, who nodded. “We’d like to hire you to get us there safely. None of us are familiar with the area. Can you do that?”

“Not making any promises about de horses. I could git ye across de swamp without dem.”

“There’s a way,” Leena said. “We need to go north first. Just a few miles.” She was wearing one of her usual modest dresses, and had borrowed Katrin’s tight-fitting straw hat to hide the new rune on her forehead, an eight-pointed star similar to a compass rose. After hearing Leena’s story, Corec hadn’t been entirely surprised when she’d asked him to bond her, but the fact that Ellerie supported the decision had come as a shock. Even Razai hadn’t tried very hard to convince her otherwise.

“Nord?” Niklo asked doubtfully. “Thought ye wanted east, eh? Nord don’t go across de waters.”

Leena said, “If we want to take the horses east, we have to go north first. There’s a way to get through.”

“We’ll take care of finding the route,” Ellerie told Niklo. “Can you help us make it through the swamp?”

“It’s yer money ta waste. A silver a day.”

Corec shared a glance with Ellerie. It was less than they’d expected to pay.

When no one objected, Niklo quickly added, “And five coppers. A silver and five coppers a day.”

“It’s a deal,” Ellerie replied.

Niklo nodded and stood up. He appeared spry despite his age. “What’s de swords for?” he asked, pointing to Corec’s sword and Ellerie’s rapier.

“Hopefully nothing,” Corec said. “Is there anything dangerous in the swamp?”

The man laughed. “Aye, lots, but I don’t know what good a sword’ll do ye. Stick with old Niklo; I’ll get ye through.”

“What kind of dangers?” Ellerie asked.

“To start with, ye’ll need something to cover yer neck so when de spiders and snakes drop from de branches, dey don’t get inside yer clothing.”

Corec’s skin crawled.

Ellerie just nodded. “What about those sounds?”

“Ye mean de birds or de gators?”

“Gators?”

“De alligators. Big lizards. Dem growls are de boys looking for girls ta make de babies.”

That deep bellowing noise was coming from a lizard? Just how big were they?

“Are they dangerous?” Ellerie asked.

“Only if ye’re stupid—or if dey are. Stay away from de water at night, watch carefully during de day. If one comes at ye, run de other way as fast as ye can. Dey get tired fast. One of de stupid ones might try to eat a horse, so don’t let it.”

A lizard that could eat a horse?

“What about boggarts?” Josip asked.

Niklo scowled. “Don’t talk about de boggarts. Ye talk about dem, it might bring dem.”

#

“Look at this,” Shavala said. “Niklo calls them pitcher plants. The smell attracts insects and then the plant eats them.” The tall green stalks growing near the water had reddish, cup-like protuberances that were partly filled with pungent-smelling water.

“What?” Katrin said, peering inside at the dead flies and ants floating in the liquid. “That’s gross!”

“Why? Plants always live on decomposing matter. But I’ve never seen one that actually hunts before. How tall do these look? Three to four feet?” Shavala pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket, along with one of the stormborn writing sticks she’d bought in Snow Crown. She scribbled down enough notes to help jog her memory later when she’d have time to write about the plants in more detail.

“I wish you wouldn’t get so close to the water. It’s almost dark. Remember what Niklo said.”

Shavala checked her elder senses. “It’ll be all right. The only alligator nearby is that one,” she said, pointing to the creature they’d both seen earlier, floating like a log in the water thirty feet away. She called out to it. “Hello! Are you awake?”

“Shavala!”

Shavala grinned back at her. It was easy to tease Katrin. “Don’t worry, it won’t listen to me. I know it can hear what I’m saying; it’s just not interested. That’s how reptiles are. I keep trying to get them to come closer, but they refuse.”

“Why would you want them closer?”

“I’d like to get a better description for my book.” Shavala had originally planned to just write individual summaries of any new plants or animals she’d encountered, but the trip to Cordaea had changed things. By the time they returned, she’d have enough for an entire book—and that was just counting the more unusual creatures. It wouldn’t be feasible to include all the minor variants she’d come across; doing so would take years, or maybe decades.

The alligators were unlike any lizard Shavala had ever encountered. She wasn’t sure they were lizards at all. They were short and squat and covered with dark green or brown scales, and had long tails, a long snout, and a mouth filled with pointed teeth. From the glimpses she’d seen, they could reach lengths of ten to twelve feet. They moved slowly most of the time, but could lurch forward quickly when hunting a meal. They didn’t do much during the day, but were more active after dark. Between their mating bellows, the constant birdcalls, and all the other sounds of the swamp—many of which even Niklo couldn’t explain—it was sometimes hard to fall asleep at night.

The group had been in Nera Athoryvos for a week now, seeking a route that would be safe for the horses. Each time they thought they’d run into a dead end, Leena had managed to find a way forward. There were islands of dry land throughout the swamp, sometimes connected by old bridges. Three times, they’d had to lead the horses through the water, but Leena had found shallow spots where the mud wasn’t thick enough to trap them in place. The third time, though, they’d found leeches on the horses’ legs … and then on their own. The worm-like parasites had worked their way up under everyone’s clothing.

On the second day, Leena had discovered an ancient, mile-long section of a raised stone road. Ellerie was convinced it was part of the swamp road she’d been looking for, but when they reached the end, there was no further sign of it, and Leena had led them off along a different path. They were making progress, but it was slow going—Leena could only use her magic a few times a day, and the ground was moist enough that they had to be careful where the horses stepped.

It had gradually become apparent why the village of Betan was so small. The swamp people didn’t like congregating in one place, instead living independently all throughout the area. It was common to come across a single stilt house in the middle of nowhere, the owner staring at the group silently. Sometimes Niklo greeted them, even buying fish from a few, while other times he ignored them completely, as if they weren’t there.

Shavala finished writing her notes and returned them to her pocket. “I think I’ve got enough for tonight,” she said. “Are you ready to head back?” She started off in the direction of the camp.

Katrin didn’t follow, and when Shavala stopped to look back at her, the other woman woman suddenly blurted out, “Why didn’t you answer Corec when I told him to ask you about elven sharing customs?”

Shavala hesitated, not sure how to respond. Finally, she said, “Because I’m not sure what you want. You’re planning to marry him—do you just feel guilty that you met him first? You don’t have to be, you know. I’m not in love with him. I’m happy for you.”

“Maybe you don’t love him, but you like him.”

“Sure. He’s a good friend, and those muscles … elven men don’t have muscles like that.”

Katrin snickered. “So, what’s the problem?”

Shavala tilted her head to the side. “You two are both humans. Don’t you want to follow human marriage customs?”

“Which human marriage customs? Corec’s the son of a baron—there’s a good chance he’ll take a concubine someday. His brother already did, and having a concubine in the family would make people take us more seriously. That might be useful for whatever he wants to do as a warden.”

“Treya?” Shavala asked.

“She insists she’s not a concubine. I don’t think the two of them have ever talked about it. But whoever it is, I need some time to get used to the idea. It would be easier if you were first.”

“Why are you so interested in this happening? He and I flirt, but you’re always the one suggesting I take it further.”

Katrin looked down. “I guess I just want you to be happier. Sometimes you seem so sad and quiet, and lonely.”

“Then you do feel guilty,” Shavala said.

“No, I’m worried about you.”

Shavala wasn’t sure how to explain everything in a way Katrin could understand. “I’m quiet because it’s hard to talk when so many people are around. By the time there’s an opening for me to say something, someone else has already said it. But I’m not sad—not about Corec, anyway. I’m sad when people try to hurt us and we have to kill them. Don’t they know what a waste it all is? I’m sad because I couldn’t talk to the snow beasts to stop them. They aren’t animals, but they were following an animal instinct to find food. It’s not their fault they attacked, but now they’re dead, and Fergus is dead, and it was all just so stupid!” She stopped talking, embarrassed. It had been a long time since she’d said that much all at once.

“I’m sorry,” Katrin said. “I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me any of that before?”

Shavala shrugged. “We did what we had to do. At least with the pirates, most of them lived, but I couldn’t think of any way to save the men who attacked us outside Tir Shar. There wasn’t enough time. They had to be stopped before they killed someone.”

Katrin nodded. “I don’t know what else we could have done. I made some of them run away—I could try that again next time.”

“I’d like that,” Shavala said. “I’d like it more if we don’t need to fight them at all. It’s not how things are supposed to work.”

“Sometimes people just don’t have a choice. Don’t elves ever fight with each other? From the things Ellerie has said about Terevas, I thought they did.”

“The dorvasta and nilvasta are different,” Shavala said. “The tree bond makes …” She snapped her mouth closed.

“Tree bond?”

“Never mind. It’s not important.” She couldn’t talk about that with an outsider—not even with Katrin. “It still sounds like you feel guilty.”

“No, not guilty,” Katrin said, “but the three of us spend a lot of time together. Doesn’t it feel like something’s missing?”

“Sometimes, maybe,” Shavala admitted. She’d grown closer to Corec and Katrin than to anyone else besides her family. It would be nice if there was more to it.

“You should come to our tent tonight.”

Shavala bit her lower lip, then nodded. Before she could say anything, though, she noticed a shifting movement near a cypress tree behind Katrin, almost as if the tree bark itself was moving.

“Katrin, stay still,” Shavala warned, keeping her voice low.

Katrin’s eyes grew wide. “What?” she whispered. “What’s going on? Is it a snake?” She tugged at the scarf Shavala had loaned her, making sure it was still in place protecting her head and neck from anything that might drop down on her.

It was difficult to tell the creature apart from the tree. It was two feet tall and stood upright like a person, but its arms reached all the way to the ground, its hands resting on the dirt. Its skin was mottled and gray, matching the bark of the cypress trees that grew everywhere throughout the swamp. Its eyes were solid black, and it stared unblinking at the two women. It had pointed ears that had swiveled toward the sound of their talking, like a cat’s.

“Can you hear me?” Shavala asked softly. The creature didn’t react other than to turn its gaze her way, moving slowly enough that she wouldn’t have noticed anything if she hadn’t already been watching it. Whatever it was, her elder senses could barely distinguish it from the surrounding plant life.

“Can what hear you?” Katrin hissed. “If it’s a snake, don’t talk to it!”

“It’s not a snake. I think it might be one of those boggarts Josip keeps talking about.”

Katrin jerked around and looked down where Shavala had been staring. When she caught sight of the creature, she shrieked and jumped away. The boggart—if that’s what it was—jumped too, and in a quick flurry of motion, it was gone.

Josip and Niklo had insisted on leaving out small amounts of food each each night for the boggarts, just beyond the range of the mage lights and as far from the water as possible to avoid attracting alligators. The food was always gone in the morning, but for two nights in a row, Shavala had watched from up in a nearby tree as a medium-sized cat of a species she wasn’t familiar with stole the meal from off the plate. She’d begun to believe the boggarts were a hoax, but now she’d seen the evidence with her own eyes.

She laughed. “Let’s go back. The others probably have supper ready by now, and you can tell them all about your adventure.”

Katrin glared at her.

#

Although the daylight was gone and the fire had burned down to embers, the camp was still brightly lit. Katrin had convinced Corec to add more mage lights than usual after her encounter with the boggart. She sat with him and Shavala on a fallen log, quietly tuning her harp and listening in as the others made plans.

“If we keep going de way we’re going, we should reach de mere tomorrow,” Niklo was saying.

“Mere?” Boktar asked.

“One of de lakes in de center of de swamp. Ye’ll not get de horses across dat.”

“Is there a way around?” Ellerie asked, looking back and forth between Niklo and Leena.

Niklo shrugged. “We can try nord or sout, but it’ll take days. Dere’s a ferry dat goes to all de villages around de mere, for dem dat don’t have boats, but I don’t know if it’ll take de horses.”

“Leena?” Ellerie asked.

The Sanvari woman checked the map she held in her lap, then closed her eyes to concentrate, a blue rune glowing on her brow. Katrin had been grateful to finally find someone else who was just as bad at concealing the mark as she’d been in the beginning. Katrin had gotten better at it—eventually—but it had never seemed fair how easy it was for the others to learn to hide theirs.

“The fastest way is to continue east,” Leena said. “If we go north …” She opened her eyes and checked the map again. “If we go north, I think we’d have to go all the way up into the mountains before we’d find another route the horses can follow. I can’t find anything to the south.”

Corec said, “You can take horses on a ferry if you’re careful and the deck is flat. If the boat’s not big enough, we can make several trips and take a few across at a time. We’ll just have to hold onto the lead ropes so the horses don’t step off into the water. Some of them might need blinders to keep them calm.”

“Shavala, could you help with the animals?” Ellerie asked.

Shavala nodded.

“Then let’s continue east and get a look at this ferryboat. If it doesn’t seem like it’ll work, we’ll go the long way around.”

The discussion broke up then, and everyone went their separate ways.

“I’m going to go talk to Leena before she heads to her tent,” Corec said. “I want to know if the men who attacked her in Sanvar were Sanvarites. The ones here were locals. I’m not sure what’s worse, Cordaeans traveling all the way to Sanvar to try and kill her, or a group that has members on both continents.” He sighed. “I hate how we never know what the hell is going on. We’d just started to get a handle on Rusol, and now there’s something new.”

Katrin nodded. None of them had really gotten to know the Sanvari woman yet. She spent most of her time with Ellerie or Razai, neither of whom were at the top of Katrin’s list of people to socialize with.

“Are you going to play tonight?” Shavala asked Katrin, nodding to the harp.

“No, but I need to practice,” Katrin said, feeling guilty. With the general eeriness of the swamp, she hadn’t been in the mood for playing, but they’d been there for a week now. She needed to get some practice in soon.

Shavala nodded. “I’ll go help Nedley move the picket lines, then.” Between the alligators and the mud, they couldn’t risk using hobbles on the horses and mules, but picketing them in one spot wouldn’t provide enough vegetation to subsist on. The picket lines had to be moved repeatedly whenever the group stopped, to ensure the animals could find enough to eat.

Once she was alone, Katrin tried strumming her harp, but it wasn’t the right instrument for what she really wanted to play. Throughout the day, she’d found herself growing more and more inspired by the constant birdcalls that had surrounded them ever since they’d entered the swamp. The noises were discordant, but there was something almost musical hidden underneath. The problem was that there were too many different birds calling out at once, with nothing to link them together as parts of a whole.

Katrin set aside the harp and picked up her flute instead. Putting it to her lips, she blew a few experimental notes, then tried to play along with the birdcalls she could hear. They were different now, quieter after dark, but they never stopped entirely.

In the distance, a songbird trilled, while close by, another bird cawed repeatedly and a third made a rapid hooting noise. Over it all was the sound of repeated shrieks. Even Niklo hadn’t been able to say if the shrieks were from a bird or something else.

Katrin picked out the melodies of the different calls, replicating the sounds as closely as she could with the flute. But repeating sounds that were already present was pointless. What she needed to do was to weave them all together into one song. She began a new melodic line, playing from one birdcall to another and bridging the gaps in between.

It helped, but it wasn’t enough. There were several melodies, but none of them harmonized with the others. If only she could play the harp and the flute at the same time.

In Circle Bay, she’d once seen a bard make an audience hear an entire orchestra and choir, even though he was only playing a single instrument. Could she do the same thing? In her head, she imagined adding harp music to the song she was constructing, then used her bardic abilities to push the sound out to anyone who could hear. It took her several attempts to get it right. In the past, her bardic illusions had always been intended for her listeners, not for herself. She’d never before had to listen to her own illusory sound in order to adjust her playing.

The flute danced between the different melodies, adding in the missing beats, but it was the sound of the harp that took everything and turned it into a new, harmonious whole. As Katrin continued to play, she got better at predicting how the birds would vary their calls over time, and the song improved.

She caught a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye. Turning her head slowly, she saw the faint outline of another boggart standing near a cypress tree, its gray skin almost indistinguishable from the bark.

Katrin suppressed her sudden burst of fright and continued playing. The creature didn’t seem like it was going to attack. It just stood there, its pointed ears swiveled toward her as it listened.

Then another boggart crawled out from behind a leafy bush and sat cross-legged on the ground as if it was a person. This one was easier to see, not blending in as well against the dark green leaves. Its eyes met Katrin’s, but it didn’t react. Farther away, a third boggart stood up out of a pool of water. It crouched down on drier ground, its head swaying as it listened.

Was the entire camp surrounded by the creatures? Katrin laughed at the thought, interrupting her song. Then she started playing again. If the creatures wanted to hear her music, she’d let them.

#

Corec opened his eyes to the darkness of the tent. Something felt odd—and it wasn’t just the extra person sleeping next to him.

There was a whisper of movement, and he slowly reached over Shavala’s chest to the side of the tent where he kept his weapons. Passing over the sword, he grabbed his knife as quietly as he could. Then he sat up in a rush and cast a mage light spell, the sudden brightness almost blinding.

There was a small, gray-skinned creature crouching over Katrin. With a scrabbling motion, it disappeared, leaving the tent flap swaying behind it.

“What … ?” Katrin asked groggily, using her hand to shield her eyes from the light. A garland of yellow flowers lay across her stomach.

“What’s going on?” Shavala asked. She’d propped herself up on her elbow, and looked awake and alert.

“There was something in here,” Corec said, his heart pounding. “Some sort of animal.”

Katrin sat up, clutching the flowers. “Where did these come from?”

“They were here when I cast the light spell.”

She held up the garland. “The stems are tied together,” she said. “Are you sure it was an animal? Did it have long arms?”

Corec blinked. The sleep hadn’t completely left his mind, and he was having trouble following her thoughts. “It was small. I didn’t see its arms. It was next to you, and then it was gone.”

“It must have been one of the boggarts from earlier.”

“How do you know?”

“What else would it be? An animal isn’t going to bring me flowers.” She draped the garland around her neck. “The boggarts liked my music. I guess this is their way of tipping me.”

“It was creepy,” Corec said.

Katrin grinned. “Oh, they’re not that bad. They were very polite.”

Corec tossed his knife back over to the side of the tent. “If you say so.”

“They seem intelligent,” Shavala said. “I don’t think they’re animals at all.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re allowed to come into our tent.”

“We’ll tie the flap closed next time,” Katrin said.

Corec raised his eyebrows. “Next time?”

“Well, they liked my bird song. I wonder if they’d like my other music. The rest of you have already heard everything dozens of times. It’s nice to have a new audience.”

Corec shook his head and laughed, letting go of the tenseness he’d felt since seeing the strange creature. Then he suddenly remembered why Shavala was in the tent with them. Katrin seemed to know where his thoughts had gone, giving him an embarrassed smile. Only Shavala seemed unfazed.

“I … uh …” Corec started. “Is everything all right?” He watched Katrin closely. It was the first time he’d been with another woman since he’d met her, and he didn’t want to hurt her. She’d never seemed to mind the flirting Shavala had done, but this was something else entirely.

“It’s fine,” she said with a shrug. “It was … different, but fun.”

“I had a good time,” Shavala said simply. “Should I go to my tent now so you two can be alone?”

“No, you should stay,” Katrin insisted. “But we need to get a bigger tent. It’s too cramped in here.”

“A tent?” Corec asked. “You want to keep doing this?” The two women had never really explained what they wanted. Katrin had mumbled something about elven customs, then convinced him to kiss Shavala, and after that, things had just happened.

Katrin said, “Maybe not every night, but I don’t want this to be our last time.”

There was a scratching noise at the tent flap, and then Treya poked her head in. “Corec, Katrin, it’s your shift.” Her eyes widened when she saw Shavala. “Oh, ahh, I’ll leave you alone.” She ducked back out.

Corec grimaced. Treya wasn’t likely to gossip to the others, but how was he going to explain it to her?

#

It took twenty days to make it across the swamp, but according to Ellerie’s map, they’d ended up less than a hundred and fifty miles from where they’d started. The route they’d taken was circuitous, sometimes requiring them to almost double back to find a way through.

Ellerie brought her horse to a halt once she’d cleared the tree line. It felt strange to be riding again after almost three weeks of leading the animals.

Gazing across the landscape, she could see farms directly ahead of her, their fields already tilled and planted for the year. The high peaks of the southern Skotinos Mountains lay to the northwest. She checked the map again, and then her compass.

“We’re still heading northeast,” she said. “That old stone road we found led northeast, too. How far from Betan was it?”

“About fifteen miles, I think,” Boktar said.

“Here, take a look at this.” Ellerie nudged her horse close to his and handed him the map. “Wouldn’t that line up with the road we’re on now, if it had gone straight through the swamp from where we found it?”

“You think we’re on the same road?” he asked.

Leena was close enough to hear them. “I can’t find the road anywhere, but there are a few of those same paving stones buried below us,” she said.

“It must have fallen apart,” Ellerie said. “Maybe people hauled away most of the stones to build something else, and you’re feeling the ones that got left behind.”

Bobo rode up to join them, using his hand to block the sun from his eyes as he looked to the east. “How about that?” he said. “I guess not all of the winged snakes were hunted down after all.”

In the distance, the unusual creatures could be seen darting back and forth as they chased each other playfully in the sky above the fields. From this far away, they really did look like snakes with feathered wings.

“We’ve got to be in the right place,” Ellerie said, more certain than ever. “But we’re farther north than I was expecting, and we’re heading northeast rather than east. If this really is what’s left of the swamp road, I think the route were following is going to lead us straight into the barrens.”