"Something's been preying on the village. It happens at night, a peasant woman told me." Kitiara related the peasant woman's story, leaving out her futile request for help. "We should take some provisions and get moving." Bleached flour sacks protected a few trays, including one on a shelf near her elbow. Kitiara peered under the towel and saw a dozen frosted buns. She pierced one with the point of her dagger and bit into the morsel.

"Mmmmm," she said, talking before she swallowed. "Persimmon filling. Want some?"

Tanis was digging out a coin-payment for the provisions, no doubt-from a pouch at his waist. He looked around, then placed it on a knife-scarred counter. "Someone will find it there. Anyway, how can you eat in this place?" he demanded. "The owner is probably lying dead somewhere out in the swamp."

She finished the confection in three bites, licked her fingers elaborately, and took another bun. "If I went off my feed when circumstances were less than perfect, half-elf, I'd starve. And I'm no good as a swords-woman if I'm weak with hunger." She brushed her hands on her short leather skirt. "Do you see any bread? Check under that towel by the door."

Tanis didn't move. He didn't say anything.

"Squeamish?" Kitiara snapped. "I doubt old Jarlburg will mind if we sample his stock. What good are a few biscuits to him now?"

Tanis still didn't say anything. Kitiara slipped her dagger into its sheath. She emptied a tray of buns into a towel and tied it in a knot. "These will come in handy later," she commented.

"Aren't you even a little curious about what has happened to everyone?" Tanis asked.

Kitiara shook her head. "As long as it isn't me that's in danger, I have no curiosity." Tanis watched dispassionately, his expression unreadable. "What?" she demanded.

"I'm trying to decide something," the half-elf said mildly, turning toward the alley.

"What?" she asked.

"Whether you're inhuman or typically human."

Tanis stepped into the alley, leaving Kitiara standing motionless in the middle of the kitchen, one hand

clenching a loaf of rye bread, the other holding the towel full of biscuits. Kitiara watched him leave, her blood pounding with anger.

Damn the man. And damn his arrogant elven blood.

* * * * *

Tanis didn't say anything to Kitiara as they left Meddow. She pointed out a shortcut she said she'd learned about, and when they reached a fork after a few minutes of riding, she motioned wordlessly down the left path. They kicked their horses into a trot as dusk descended around them.

Soon the path grew spongy, and the horses's feet began to make sucking noises as they pulled their hooves from the sodden peat.

"This can't be the right trail," Tanis said, looking back from his position in the lead.

"The woman said the left fork curved a bit," Kitiara snapped. "This is the left fork, damn it. Hurry up. It's getting dark."

Tanis nodded. "I'd hate to see the right fork," he murmured.

The vegetation changed as they continued along the trail. The trees now sagged under festoons of gray-green moss that resembled tresses of a desiccated corpse. Strange grasses, red, shoulder-high, with clouds of tiny insects around their tips, poked up beside the path. Kitiara touched one and snatched her hand away with a cry. "I've been bitten!"

Tanis reined in Dauntless and leaned over to examine her hand. "By the insects or by the plant?" he asked. Blood oozed from a pair of cuts at the base of her thumb. "They look like teeth marks," he mused.

Kitiara's temper snapped again. "Don't be ridiculous. Whoever heard of plants that bite?"

The half-elf's expression was thoughtful. "I've heard of stranger things," he said.

She jerked her hand away. "You're trying to spook me, half-elf. Let's get moving." She shoved Obsidian past the chestnut gelding into the lead. Tanis followed slowly.

The path narrowed; red grasses pushed in from the sides until Tanis and Kitiara could barely see to the right or the left. There was only room for the horses to pass in single file. The smell of muck increased, as did the whine of insects. Once something purple, the size of a horse's hoof, scampered across the path right in front of Obsidian, dragging a small, fluttering bird. So startled was the mare that it was all Kitiara could do to restrain her rearing mount. When Obsidian had settled down at last, Kitiara shouted back, "What in the shadowless Abyss was that?"

"Bog spider," Tanis said tersely. "Poisonous."

As evening darkened, mosquitoes descended in hordes upon the travelers. Tanis unrolled a blanket from his bedroll and wrapped it over his head to discourage the biting insects. Kitiara followed suit. "Don't brush against the plants," he warned. Kitiara grunted in reply but kept Obsidian in the center of the trail.

Tanis suddenly dismounted, picked up a stone from the trail, and tossed it into the reddish grasses. A splash followed. "The left fork led to Haven?" he repeated.

Kitiara stopped and looked around. "So she said." Her gaze flicked from moss to grass to the narrow path. "So she said."

Grasses pressed in on each side. As dusk deepened, they heard something large splash into the water off to their left. Bats swooped and circled overhead, feasting on nighttime insects. A humming, like the sound of a thousand insects, thrummed through the marsh.

"Have you ever done battle in a bog?" Tanis asked quietly. Ignoring the mosquitoes, he let the blanket fall from his head and felt for his sword.

Kitiara shook her head. "You?"

Tanis nodded. "Once. With Flint."

By some unspoken decision, they kept their tone offhand. "What lives here?" Kitiara asked.

"Ever heard of the Jarak-Sinn?"

Again she shook her head.

"They're a race of lizard people. Their venom is deadly," Tanis said. With the night growing more dense around them, it seemed more appropriate to whisper. "And of course, there are ogres; you find them everywhere," he continued. "And shambling mounds. They look like piles of rotting leaves-until they rise and envelop you. Swamp alligators; I fought gators with Flint. They carry venom in a spine at the ends of their tails. They try to paralyze you and pull you into the water and drown you." He didn't mention that the feisty dwarf had almost lost his life in such an encounter, surviving only after liberal doses of Qualinesti herbs to offset the poison.

Kitiara pushed the blanket back from her head and drew her sword. Tanis's was already out.

"So we're in the swamp. Should we retreat or go on?" the swordswoman asked.

Tanis looked at the scarlet grasses. "We couldn't turn the horses on this narrow path if we wanted to. Push on, but be ready, Kit."

They moved on more slowly, their ears pricking with every new splash and bubble from the swamp. The stench of rotting plants and animals grew worse. Solinari had risen and was bathing the travelers in platinum moonlight.

Then, all at once, what looked like two silver moons hung in the sky. Kitiara pointed and shouted. "Look, half-elf! A light! It's Haven after all!" Ignoring the half-elf's cry of dismay, she kicked Obsidian in the sides and clattered confidently ahead. The half-elf had no choice but to force Dauntless into a gallop.

"Kitiara, wait!" he shouted. "It's a will-o'-the-wisp!" The swordswoman raced on as though she hadn't heard him.

The path widened and curved to the right of a black pool. Solinari shone above them, its light giving an otherwordly glow to the sphagnum moss in the trees that ringed the travelers. Tanis drew up behind the mounted swordswoman and lunged for Obsidian's reins. Kitiara turned toward him. For a moment, confusion flickered across her face. Then her countenance cleared. "A will-o'-the-wisp?" she asked.


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