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Clarent Saga: Chronicles
20. Helen, The Huntress (3)

20. Helen, The Huntress (3)

Horatio spun at once to see what had happened, almost pulling over Helen in the process.

Wyvera hadn’t fallen in, but she stood frozen in place, holding up both her hands as if to protect herself. Her face was white as milk below her dragon mask.

‘Didn’t you see him?’ Wyvera asked.

‘See who?’ said Horatio.

‘That hooded man with the glowing eyes!’ said Wyvera. ‘He just ran across our path over the swamp, laughing! Did nobody else see him?’

The rest of them shook their heads.

‘Quickly,’ said Primus. ‘The gases of this swamp may be hallucinogenic.’

‘Huh?’ said Egea.

‘They may be making us hear and see things that aren’t really there. Huntress, go carefully, but go as fast as you can. Now.’

They set off again, Horatio relieved at the explanation for why he had heard something that wasn’t there, but terrified that one or all of them was going to lose their way in a hallucination and get lost in this swap forever.

The next person to cry out was Ceres.

Horatio felt a sharp tug on the rope at his back. He turned to find out what Ceres had seen or heard this time. Ceres was tied just behind him in the order. Only, she wasn’t there any more.

Where she should be, the length of rope led into the mud of the swamp.

She had fallen in completely.

‘Helen!’ Horatio yelled at the top of his lungs. ‘Help me pull her out!’

He looked round for the Huntress, but then found the rope on the other side of him had been cut, leaving only a frayed end. Helen had vanished as well.

Horatio spun again. He couldn’t see any of his companions any more. And now a thick, purple gas was rising out of the swamp, which blurred his vision and stung his nostrils. He couldn’t even see where Ceres had fallen in any more.

‘Ceres!’ He called out for help, made to move towards where he thought she had been, stumbled, lost his footing, tripped, put out his hands and hit the surface of the swamp with a splash.

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Immediately his whole body began to sink, and a powerful force dragged, dragged, dragged him downwards. Cold, heavy liquid enveloped him.

He writhed and kicked, throwing up his hands and trying to reach for a piece of solid ground to climb out, but this only made him sink deeper into the waters. Mud filled his vision, his mouth, his lungs, pressing in on him, pushing the life out of him, choking him with its foul smell and rancid taste and blocking his access to the air.

He struggled and thrashed around all the more, all he could.

Until then his energy ran out.

Horatio’s body went very still.

There was no more air left to breathe.

He was about to die.

There was so much more I wanted to do… he thought dimly. Mother… Father… I wanted to do something great with my life. I wanted to make you proud. Ceres…

His thoughts began to fade.

Two hands gripped onto his upper arm suddenly and pulled him hard...

…up, out of the swamp water and onto one of the small islands of grass.

Horatio landed on his hands and knees, coughing and spluttering. He could just about see the grass in front of his face, but his head still swam in a purple haze, despite being out of the swamp-water now.

‘Awareness!’ commanded the person who had lifted him out.

All at once Horatio’s vision suddenly went clear again. The purple haze receded, and he could see clearly once more the trees, the shallow areas, the swamp and Primus, whom he was surprised to discover had been the person who had lifted him out of the swamp.

He stood up in a panicked rush, eager to return to trying to help Ceres out of the swamp too, but then got another surprise as he saw her standing a little way away, completely fine. Helen and the others were all standing nearby too, still joined by the length of rope.

‘What happened?’ said Horatio.

‘You were hallucinating, lad,’ said Primus. ‘It seems that someone put a hex on you. I cast a counterspell to get rid of it. It would appear that we are not alone in this swamp.’

‘You’ve got that right,’ said Egea, pointing.

Horatio followed her finger with his eyes.

Standing about ten metres away in the direction that they had been walking, on top of one of the pieces of wood that served as stepping stones across the treacherous swamp, was a hooded figure in a bright purple robe. Its face was inscrutable underneath the hood, except for two eerily glowing pale blue, pupil-less eyes which peered out from within the darkness of the shroud. This must be the person that Ceres had seen earlier.

‘Well well well…’ said the figure in the same sickly, slimy voice that Horatio had heard whispering to him earlier. ‘It seems you have dispelled my illusion. I did not know that you had a magic user among you who was powerful enough to do that.’ The man in the hood sounded both amused and irritated at the same time.

‘Well we do!’ yelled Egea back at him. ‘And there’s more where that came from!’ She turned to Primus. Ain’t there, gramps?’

‘Do not bait this debauched lunatic,’ Primus hissed at her. ‘I sense he is extremely powerful!’

‘You sense correctly!’ said the robed figure. ‘Fabian is my name, and torturing people to death with magic is my game!’ He began to cackle madly. ‘How would you prefer to die? By fire, ice, thunder, wind, or darkness? I’ll let you choose!’

Boss battle: Fabian