Chapter 374: The Baby on the Mushroom

“And look who I found!” Baelin said breezily as he reappeared in Crymlyn village.

Beside him was the familiar figure of Theresa Lu, looking ready for war. She carried an immense pack over one shoulder, and both of her great-grandfather’s blades were sheathed at her hips. In one gloved hand, was her birthday gift from Alex, a powerful bow strung with the golden string she’d won at the Games of Roal. At her side, her ferocious cerberus Brutus stood—looking fierce, immense—and as hungry as ever…right until he bounded at the Thaemish wizard, barking excitedly, and knocked him over.

“Aagh! Brutus! Stop! Why?” the young man protested as three large, wet tongues slobbered over his face while he floundered on the ground.

“Vengeance is mine,” Theresa said quietly, helping him up from Brutus’ ongoing tongue bath.

“Vengeance? Really?” The cerberus’ assault persisted. “Brutus, you’re drowning me!” He cried.

“And I can’t believe you’d hold a grudge like that Ther—”

He watched her carefully.

She looked tired: in the moonlight, a sheen of sweat shone on her face, reflecting off the gathering snow, her breaths came faster than usual. She looked like she'd been running.

“Aaaaahhhh, youth.” Baelin shook his head and looked at Claygon. “You see how cruel life can be, my giant friend. I am literally one of the most capable archwizards in all this world, but as soon as a young man, a young woman, and might I add, an enthusiastic pup see each other, I am as forgotten as last week’s weather forecast.” He looked up at the sky mournfully. “To think I would live so long to see my days of glory pass away like this.”

“No, wait, Baelin, I—” Alex started.

“Oh now you pay attention to me! ” Baelin began laughing. “Calm yourself. I merely jest. And on that note, I will take my leave of you young people and wish you the best of luck and good hunting. My goodbyes have already been said to the others, so do work well together, and most of all, simply take good care of my boat, your other package—”

He looked meaningfully at the satchel strapped across Alex’s torso. “—and yourselves. Farewell for now, I shall see you all in a few short days.”

Theresa and Alex said their goodbyes to the chancellor, and in a flash of teleportation magic, he was gone.

The huntress looked around the fantastical village, letting out a breath that misted white in the cold. They were on the outskirts near the cottage Elder Blodeuwedd had ordered prepared for them.

“So this is the home of the Witches…it actually looks just as I imagined,” she said.

“Yeah.” Alex pat Brutus’ head and mentally told Claygon they were leaving. “But where we’re going tomorrow is a hell of a lot less ‘fairy-tale-like’. Come on, I’ll explain once we meet up with the Heroes. They’re in the cottage, finishing up supper. You already eat, you want a hand with your gear?”

“Yeah, I ate, and, I’m fine with my stuff thanks,” she said, at his side.

Their cottage was one of the houses set among branches of a great tree, making the sight of firelight from a cook fire—flickering between wooden shutters—a very strange sight indeed. ‘The tree probably has its own magical defences against runaway flames, otherwise the practice of cottages in trees would be long dead...either that, or all the trees would be,’ Alex thought.

The village was still as the snow drifted down, leaving Alex and Theresa in a comfortable silence as they climbed up the carved staircase to the cottage door. Brutus’ heads were turning every which way—his noses constantly sniffed the air—while he whined, longing to bound through the snow and explore the village.

“Hey,” Alex said quietly. “You okay? You look like you’ve been running from demons or something.”

“Yeah,” she said, wiping her brow. “I was practising when Baelin came for me, that’s all. I’m okay.”

At the top of the steps, the Heroes’ voices could be heard through the cottage door.

“So what’s the deal wit’ the elder, y’said she’s your ma?” Cedric was asking.

“Yeah,” Hart’s deep voice spoke up. “She looks a little oldish for that. More like your grandmother, or maybe your great grandmother. And she doesn’t have your eyes?”

“Oi, Hart, y’can’t jus’ go askin’ stuff about why someone’s eyes look different. It’s kinda rude,” Cedric said.

“Cedric, it’s alright,” Drestra sighed, though weariness had entered her voice. “I’m used to those questions—”

The door creaked open before she could finish, and Alex, Theresa, Brutus and Claygon stepped in, shaking off snow before Alex shut the door behind them.

“Welcome back!” Cedric lifted an earthenware cup of herbal brew: the witches had brought them a small keg of it with a supper of stew and skewered fish. It was good, filling food with an herbal flavour that Alex promised he’d ask about for his own cooking. Hart was enjoying the meal like it was his last one, making another trip to the stewpot.

“It’s good to see you, Theresa, welcome to Crymlyn Village.” Drestra greeted Theresa, and squeezed the young woman’s gloved hand, obviously happy to see her.

“Thanks, it’s beautiful here, Drestra,” the huntress gave her a hug.

Brutus went straight to the fire and curled up, warming himself while Alex took his partner’s pack and placed it in a corner beside his own gear. Claygon sat beside it. The cottage was one large room, and each party member had claimed a corner of the space as their own.

“You two are just in time,” the Sage said as Theresa and Alex came to warm themselves around a stone firepit in the centre of the cottage. “Cedric and Hart just asked me about my mother.”

“We heard,” Alex shrugged. “I didn’t really question your relationship, I mean, if she’s your mum, she’s your mum.”

“True, but I’ve had such questions too many times to count, so I may as well answer now and get everyone’s curiosity satisfied,” she said, and the fire’s reflection danced in her golden eyes. “Elder Blodeuwedd adopted me eighteen years ago. According to her, she found me bawling my eyes out on the cap of a giant mushroom in the swamp: there was no one around, just me. She told me it was a good thing she found me when she did because a giant swamp serpent was about two heartbeats away from swallowing me whole before she killed it. She took me home with her and raised me. She’s the mother I’ve known my whole life. And that’s the reason my eyes are different.”

Silence followed, as the others waited for her to continue her story…but she didn’t.

Cedric gave a great yawn. “Aye, well, that’s simple enough, isn’t it? Kinda feel a bit dull-witted for not putting that together m’self.”

“Yeah, that was a lot less epic than I thought it’d be,” Hart said, turning his attention back to the remains of his supper.

Theresa simply nodded and said, “Thanks for sharing that with us, it must be annoying feeling you have to explain something so personal about yourself to whoever asks.” She pointedly looked at the Champion and the Chosen, then went to unpack some of her things.

Alex subtly watched Drestra for a time, noting certain things about her body language: a closing off of her shoulders, a crossing of her ankles and hands, and her eyes not holding anyone’s gaze, merely staring into the fire pit.

They were all signs of someone hiding something.

He took notice, but in the end, it was none of his business. Instead, he cleared his throat.

“Okay guys, so…for tomorrow, I wanna make a couple of suggestions on how we do things.”

The Heroes looked at him.

“Aye?” Cedric took a bite of fish. “Y’sound like some o’ the knights that follow us into battle. What’s it yer thinkin’?”

“Well, we’re tough,” Alex said. “Especially you three, but we don’t know exactly what we’re walking into tomorrow morning. So, I think we should focus on recon. Dresta, how well do you know that area of the swamp?”

“Not very well,” she said. “I’ve only been there a few times.”

“Right…” he said. “So I say when we go back, we head further into the swamp, but try to keep things quiet. We stay low and avoid fights with invisible marauders, when we can. I’ll be having my elemental beetles and water elementals scout for invisible threats. Baelin taught me a spell to summon a vuncali fighting fish, but I can only call one, not a whole school like he did, but at least we’ll have one to track scents underwater.”

“So scouting and skirmishing, instead of a full assault,” Hart nodded. “Okay, there’s some sense to that. I think we need to get our hands on someone who can answer some questions, though.”

“Yeah, that was my next suggestion. Now, if they’re cultists…it’ll be hard to get them to say much, but there are ways. In the meantime—” Alex took out a notepad. “—I’ll be mapping our path through the swamp so we can get out of there fast if we need to. I’m thinking if we do manage to capture a cultist, we bring them back to the village and interrogate them here. If we try to do it out there, we’re just asking to get ambushed while we’re occupied.”

“What?” Cedric raised an eyebrow. “No offence, but ain’t that a little cowardly? Drestra’s people’ve been stuck with them bastards for maybe a month or more now, an’ we’re jus’ gonna go in there all sneaky-like, an’ then scurry back out? We’re the bloody Heroes o’ Thameland, we’ve fought armies! I think we can take care of a few bloody cultists. Hell, Hart handled an encampment of them devils all on his own, and I’m surprised you’re not talkin’ about rushin’ in there and just takin’ ‘em out, Hart.”

“I also don’t want my people waiting any longer. Anything could be happening to them.” Drestra said.

“Yeah,” the young wizard said. “I get that. But, the way I see it, one major problem we have is that we don’t know what’s really going on in that part of the swamp. We need information. Like, are your kin actually in those cultists’ hands, and if they are, where they are. If we don’t know those things, things could get even worse for them if we run in blind and start blundering about with no information. That’s the thing about Ravener-spawn. They don’t take hostages. At least not in my experience.”

“No,” Cedric said, calmer. “That's a fact, I’ve never seen ‘em do that since we been fightin’ ‘em…an’ aye, that makes things different.”

“Yeah, no use in going in there, spells blazing if we don’t know what we’re looking for or where it is,” Hart agreed. “Still, I vote we kill as many of them as we can.”

“Oh yeah,” Alex agreed. “Once we get a prisoner, any cultist patrols we see? We turn them to dust. As a matter of fact…instead of going deeper into what they’ve got staked out as their territory…”

Drestra scowled.

“...it might be better to loop around it and see if we find another outpost.”

“Yeah,” Theresa agreed. “Baelin briefed me on what you all were up to, and this sounds like a good way to scout out the layout and size of their territory, kill some of them, and get ourselves a prisoner nice and early.”

“...yes, that all makes sense,” Drestra said. “But I don’t want to move in too slowly. They’ve already run from us once. We should make sure more of them don’t get the same chance.”

“Oh yeah, trust me,” Alex said. “They won’t be getting away from us.”

###

Alex and two swarms of elemental beetles materialised in the teleportation circle just after sunrise. Around him, six dimly glowing Wizard’s Hands floated, each holding sleeping potions.

He dropped into a crouch, listening for sounds both near and far.

Only the natural noises of swamp life, and muted whispering of the wind reached him.

A heartbeat later, the rest of the party appeared: Claygon, Drestra, Cedric, Hart, Brutus and Theresa.

The huntress, Chosen and Champion had bows in hand with arrows nocked on their strings. Claygon’s head swivelled as he scanned the surroundings, while Brutus sniffed the air, his heads turning in different directions.

“Things look quiet so far,” Alex whispered. “I haven’t seen anything.”

Then came Brutus’s low growl.

The cerberus pointed his heads toward what appeared to be empty space about ten yards away. Alex’s elemental beetles flew straight to it, hovering there.

He wasted no time. With a mental command, he called back the beetles and sent a Wizard’s Hand to the empty space, crushing a sleeping potion above it. Mist sprayed, followed shortly by a harsh groan, then a splash. An invisible marauder dropped into the murky depths. A heartbeat later, three arrows slammed into it with terrific force. It was dead instantly.

“Good boy,” Theresa stroked Brutus’ ears.

“Right, let’s get the boat in the water,” Alex whispered.

Silently, the Heroes and Theresa carried the boat down a small bank, placing it at the water’s edge. Using flight spells on Brutus and Claygon, Drestra let them float above the ground and into the vessel while Alex climbed aboard after a final look around.

He directed Claygon to crouch in the centre of the boat, then he cast Orbs of Air around everyone—except Brutus, whose heads would keep scenting the swamp air. And—with a quiet word—Baelin’s vessel sailed into the water as silently as a waterbird.

They took a slow, winding route deep into the swamp, using Alex’s beetles to scout for Invisible Marauders. There were none to be seen, perhaps after yesterday, they might’ve decided to give this part of the swamp a wide berth. The boat drifted along soundlessly, progressing through the marsh, heading deeper into the swamp.

Around ninety minutes in, Brutus suddenly turned one of his heads starboard, growling at something to the right.

“What is it? What is it, boy?” Theresa whispered.

“Is it one o’ them invisible things?” Cedric’s voice was low.

Then he went quiet…the party looked at each other.

From the swamp, voices reached them.