“How do we even know we’re going the right way?” Dagny asked tiredly.

“If Gilly says this is the way, then it is,” Marla tried to assure her friend, though the young dwarf in the saddle behind her looked thoroughly unconvinced.

“Marla? Gilly is a DOG.”

“She’s a trained riding hound who knows how to track things by scent. That’s how she made it back home.”

Dagny fell silent, knowing they would not be able to sway their friend on this. The tiny pair rode in silence for a time, moving in fits and starts as Gilly sniffed her way around.

“What do we do if they come looking for us?” Dagny broke the silence in little more than a whisper.

“If you’re too scared, then go home!” Marla snapped angrily. “Tell them I made you do it.”

“No! Marla, it’s not that. I’m not scared, but we should have a plan. It won’t take them long to realize we escaped the lockdown. If they catch up to us they’ll never let us keep looking for your mom and dad!”

“Well…” Marla trailed off, thinking. “Gilly is fast!”

“Faster than a horse?” Dagny asked flatly.

“N-no. But she’s smaller! And Papa said horses have trouble in the bayou! We’ll just go where there are lots of trees.” Marla nodded as if affirming the validity of her own plan. Dagny thought about it, scratching at the stubble on their chin, and then nodded. They weren’t sure about how that would work, but Marla probably knew more about this kind of stuff.

Emerging from a copse of trees, a sudden stop sent Dagny tipping forward into their friend’s shoulder.

“Ow.”

“Shh!” Marla pointed ahead, whispering fiercely. “Look!” Dagny leaned a bit to one side to see around their companion. Before them stood a hoff. The sod roof was hosting a beautiful array of blooming plants. All around the stead had been cleared and tilled and was mostly covered in thick green sweet potato vines. All except for a barren streak running from the west to the front of the house.

“What do we do? There are no more trees to hide behind. They’ll see us.”

“Unless they left for town?” Marla asked hopefully.

“There’s no smoke from the chimney. Nobody in the fields. Maybe they did,” Dagny cautiously observed. Marla nodded, spurring Gilly onward.

“If they’re gone, maybe we could grab some bread? I’m hungry,” the young dwarf added. As they drew closer, they could see the door was wide open. Dagny was staring at the torn-up line through the fields when Marla directed Gilly closer to the entrance.

“I think it’s empty,” Marla whispered. She began to scoot to one side, preparing to dismount, when the murmur of voices inside froze her in her tracks. It sounded like a whole group of people were chatting away somewhere deep inside the house. Strange voices, all talking over one another, slithered into her ears from the shadows behind the doorway. Gilly dropped her head, her hackles bristling against the saddle as the hound's lips pulled back in a snarl. Dagny grabbed Marla’s belt and pulled her back to center on the saddle.

“BANDITS!” they whispered urgently. A loud clatter, as of a table or chair being pushed roughly along a wooden floor, echoed through the dark doorway. “RUUUUUN!!” Dagny screamed, Marla joining in as the pair dashed westward atop Emma’s trusty steed.

It was late afternoon when the tired trio found their first clue. A crude fire pit, full of ashes and blackened charcoal. It was between two patches of tall, thick grass that Dagny knew all too well.

“Don’t let Gilly walk through that. It hurts.” They warned. Marla only nodded silently, exhausted and upset that they had yet to find her parents. Trotting around and crossing a narrow, slow stream, they walked up to the long-dead campfire. Gilly gave a loud huff and laid down. The panting hound rolled partially to one side, causing the kids to tumble off her back and into a heap on the soft grass.

“GILLY! BAD DOG!!” Marla scolded, strained from the weight of her denser companion laying on top of her. Dagny rolled to their feet, dusting off their pants, but Marla stayed on her belly. “Look…” She said softly.

“What?” Dagny turned to see that Marla had pulled a thin spear out of the grass before her. Dagny went pale. “Do you think they got attacked by the lizardfolk?”

“Maybe. But they’re a super strong adventuring party! They’ll be fine for sure!”

Dagny looked around, wondering if any more clues could be found. When movement caught their eye, they looked up towards the tiny pond with a mangrove tree growing in it. The water there was churning, bubbling up with enough ferocity to push the green scum of algae away from that one spot by about a meter in any direction.

“What’s THAT?” Dagny asked, pointing. Marla tore her eyes away from the spear to take a look.

“Oh! I’ve heard about something like this! It’s a… a… Spring! A hot spring!”

“Is it magic?” Dagny asked, a bit awestruck.

“Sometimes. I hear some special springs can help heal wounds or clean things.”

“Marla. All water cleans things.”

“Not like that! Like… special things. Temple things.”

“Oooh… I don’t get it.”

“Me either but that’s what Mama told me.” Marla reached into a saddle bag on Gilly’s side and pulled out two apples. “Here.”

“That’s it?” Dagny looked disappointed.

“We were in a hurry! Three apples is all I got!” Marla said defensively. Dagny sighed, then tightened their belt.

“Right. Do this,” they instructed.

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“Why?” Marla asked, doing as instructed but looking confused about it.

“It helps. Also, drink LOTS of water. It will fill you up a bit.”

“I will later. I wanna try and start a fire first.”

Dagny nodded, looking towards the mangrove trees on the other side of the tiny island. The water there was a little deeper and moved more. It was probably better for drinking.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get a drink. Hold my apple.”

Dagny tossed the little green fruit to their friend and walked over to the trees.

“Watch out for gators!” Marla called around a mouthful of apple. There were several moments of quiet, broken only by the soft crunches of Marla’s apple and the grinding of wood as the young halfling tried to use the scraps of wood left near the pit to get a spark. She was already nibbling at the core for everything she could get when Dagny screamed in a panic.

“MARLA!!!!”

Apple forgotten, the Halfling girl dashed toward their voice, forgetting Dagny’s warning about the grass. She pushed through, emerging from the other side covered head to toe in tiny cuts and scrapes. Running into the knee-deep water, she pulled up her little bow and reached back for an arrow… Which wasn’t there. She cursed herself for being so stupid and leaving the arrows on Gilly’s saddle. She found Dagny then, kneeling in the water and pulling on some soaked lump of greens and browns. The thing was draped limply over a root.

“I FOUND HIM!!” Dagny yelled, before turning to see that Marla had closed the gap. They shifted to one side, revealing her Papa’s face.

“Get Gilly! We need to get him out of the water!!”

Dagny returned to trying to pull the comparatively larger man out from between the roots. When no sound of movement followed they looked back to see Marla hadn’t moved an inch. “Marla! Get the dog!” The Halfling girl stood as firmly fastened to the ground as any of the trees, eyes wide with shock and horror. “MARLA!!” Dagny looked back and forth from Logan to Marla a few times before making a call. They stood up and grabbed Marla by the arm, yanking her over. “Hold him tight. I’ll get the dog.”

—

Below the water, at the bottom of a narrow tunnel, the world was dark, soft, and warm. Moreover, the sounds of the outside world were muted by the stagnant water and earthen walls. Liv thought it was almost perfect. Now if only that crazy chick would stop SCREAMING!

/A wall of gelatinous flesh, unfolding in eldritch fractals. Damned and wailing souls driven to madness, cut into cross-sectional ribbons as they writhed on a surface whose true shape defied perception./

NOT REAL

NOT REAL

NOT REAL

/Guttural moans of anguish form a discordant hymn, a siren song to summon the reaper. The reaper who never comes…/

Dear gods, not this again. Does she ever SHUT UP?! What’s a gal gotta do to get some peace and quiet around here? She doesn’t even have to stop to breathe between screams, the babbling bitch is like the energizer fucking bunny of screamo!

/Scrambling along the asphalt, her hand closed around the familiar handle of her pocket knife. It had landed mere inches away from her tooth. Lungs screaming, she spun, blade at the ready, just in time to see the business end of a tire iron coming down right between her eyes and…/

The memory was interrupted by a splash and the feeling of displaced water. Liv blazed red, snapping back into the present moment as fear crackled along her jagged jasper surface. A moment of blinding terror seized her. It was back. It was back and it was going to kill her. Eat her. It would turn her inside out like it had Bob and leave her screaming at the back of her own head.

Something warm and fleshy touched her core, and Liv cowered away from the unwanted touch. The voices! The voices were back! She could hear them now, distorted by the water.

“Are you sure about this?”

“What choice is there?”

“What if it isn’t magic?”

“It’s GLOWING, Marla! It’s magic!”

These weren’t the myriad voices of those maddened by torture. There was thought and purpose to them. Liv lay alone at the bottom of the den, and when she opened her eyes for the first time in what felt like eons, she could see the foot that had bumped her core further down the short tunnel. A perfectly normal foot.

Yes, PLEASE, go make some fucking friends and scream at THEM for a while, will you?!

“It’s not working!”

“Give it a minute!”

“What if it’s not a healing spring?”

“Probably we just need the right magic words. The priests always say prayers when they heal.”

Healing? Liv reached out with her senses, but the foot didn’t belong to one of her creations. She could neither see the threads of its existence nor directly impact them in any way. She couldn’t heal him. Well… not DIRECTLY. Crawling up out of the hole, she saw none other than Mr. Halfling, battered and bruised within an inch of his life, with Dwarf kid and the tiniest little person she’d ever seen holding him up in the water.

Her eyes drifted towards the western edge but then clenched shut. She had to focus. She wanted no more innocent deaths happening here. Logan had open wounds all over, and the stagnant water here was loaded with bacteria. She began to focus on the glittering flecks of microscopic life, driving them away from his wounds and cleaning them with swirls of fresh water. For the first time in nearly three days, Liv stopped screaming.

—

The children’s prayers, half-remembered appellations to Eir, died on their lips as the reddish glow faded and the lukewarm waters went still. There was a brief, oppressive silence before Marla whispered.

“Did it work?”

Dagny looked ready to say they had no idea when a pop and crackle preceded the orange blaze of Marla’s failed fire springing inexplicably to life. The pair sat in a slack-jawed stupor, staring at it.

“Did that just-“ Marla started.

“Yeah…” Dagny confirmed the unspoken question. They stared for a moment more before Marla snapped back to reality.

“Quick! Pull him over there! That fire won’t last long unless we get more wood!!”

Dagny had to move slowly along the roots till they reached shallower waters, but as soon as Marla confirmed she could reach the bottom, Dagny hopped down and sped things up.

“I wish we had bone broth. Mama always said bone broth cures all ills.” Marla lamented as they laid him down. Dagny raced off to find any bits of wood they could reach while Marla tended to her father. He looked much cleaner now, and his cuts, while not mended, no longer seemed so puffy and red. She looked back towards where the magic spring had been, about to offer thanks to Eir, when something odd caught her eye now that the fire cast a light over it. Half buried in the mud was a crudely carved wooden idol. A red lady with funny hair, wearing some cool armor. The spring had been red too…

“Thank you, red lady.” She said quietly, carefully setting the tiny statue to stand once more on the damp ground. “Thank you for listening to my prayer.”

—

Liv sat at Logan’s feet, keeping the fire going long after it should have gone out. The kids were asleep now, curled up together under a blanket. She wished she had some way to just heal the little ranger. Expensive as it was, it was way easier than this. Trying to keep every pinprick of a parasite out of his open wounds took a lot of work. The kids meant well but they hadn’t even thought to bandage the poor guy. So when he stirred for the first time and opened his eyes, Liv threw her hands up and cheered.

She heard a slight creak in response and instinctively flinched, looking over her shoulder for the source. There, peeking from between his branches, was Bushwhacker. He seemed just as shocked to see her as she was to see him.

“YOU’RE ALIVE?!?” she squealed. The shrub nodded, but when Logan groaned he snapped back into hiding. Right! Time to celebrate later. Logan looked confused and disoriented, then worried.

“Emma?” he croaked, making Liv blanch.

Marla made a sleepy little whine. The kind of noise that required no translation, being universally understood as a desire to not be woken. Logan’s good eye went wide, the other being swollen shut, and he struggled to roll over.

“M-Marla?!” He wheezed, panic in his voice. That was enough to rouse the kids. Marla blinked sleepily for a moment before scrambling onto her feet.

“Papa!!” she shouted, dashing towards him.

“SHHH!!” Logan pleaded, eye roaming all around. “Marla! No! You can’t be here!” he hissed.

“We came to look for you all when Gilly came home alone,” Dagny explained, innocent and unaware. Liv winced, hugging herself, as she saw the comprehension and then despair play out on Logan’s bruised and lopsided features.

He did his best to hide his face from his daughter, but Marla latched onto it with the single-minded determination of youth.

“Where’s Mama?” the trembling child asked fearfully. Logan clenched his eyes shut, but the dancing firelight glittered across his tears. Marla began to breathe faster, her voice rising.

“Papa, where is Mama?!” When her father struggled to speak, the child became more frantic. “WHERE’S MAMA?!! WHY ISN’T SHE WITH YOU?! PAPA?!?”

As Marla wound up, growing louder and louder with each moment that her grieving father struggled to find his voice, it was Dagny that came to the rescue. The stocky little dwarf yanked Marla into a hug.

“He doesn’t know, Marla,” they said softly. “We have Gilly. Once your da’ is safe, we’ll come back. It’s okay. He just doesn’t know.”

“No,” Logan croaked. “No, you two get on Gilly right this instant. You ride hard till you reach town and you stay there!” The potency of his demands was lessened somewhat by his reedy, wheezing voice.

“NO!” Marla shouted.

“Marla, it’s not safe! I’ll look for-“

“I’m not leaving you!”

Logan was gesturing weakly, shaking as he tried and failed to convince his daughter to keep her voice down.

“Please. Sweetheart. I need you to listen to me.”

Marla was sobbing now, eyes clenched tight and shaking her head vehemently while Dagny tried to console her.

“Gilly can’t carry all of us. Your Mama would want you two to -“ Logan’s voice trailed off as distant echoes of baying hounds murmured their way between the western trees. “Gods, no…” Logan gritted his teeth, forcing his way onto all fours despite obvious pain.

“GO!” He hissed. “RUN!”

“Mr. Tanner?” Dagny whispered, looking more frightened now. “Who’s that?” The hounds were getting nearer now. Logan gave a sharp whistle that had Gilly up and ready in a flash. Then came a noise that made Liv want to throw up. A discordant murmuring from the east had the usually brash woman clutching herself in terror as she slowly backed toward the safety of the hole beneath the pond. Not again. She couldn’t watch this happen again.