They had walked for less than half a mile out of Hashvale before they came across a blockade in the middle of the northern road. The encampment itself was populated by several members of the Royal Army: all of them from the company that was in the Young Earl’s service. Given their history with the Earl, they approached cautiously in hopes of being allowed passage through. Venice made a zipper motion across his mouth to Lola shortly before they approached, in sincere hopes that the Buhund would take a hint to be quiet. He drew his cloak’s hood over his face.

A few scattered tents and rolled-out blankets housed most of the soldiers, while a small remainder stood guard at the edge of their temporary base. Their tarnished tin helmets obscured all but their mouths from view, although it was obvious where their glances went as Lola and her friends came near. At the sound of the soldiers’ arrogant chatter, Lola could clearly see one or two of them pointing and whispering about her group. It occurred to her that she’d previously run across rabid pyrepies with better manners.

“Oy, what ’ave we ’ere?” a soldier of a rather thick build inquired. “A lost farmer?”

“What makes you think they’re farmers?” a skinnier soldier asked.

“He’s got ’imself a rooster on a one shoulder, and a Buhund in tow,” the larger soldier replied. “He’s gotta be a farmer, mate.”

“That isn’t a Buhund, ya idjit!” an uncommonly short solider chimed in. “Buhunds isn’t white! An’ its ears are way too large. Buhunds don’t have ears that big!”

Lola furrowed her brow in annoyance at the soldier’s comments, resisting the urge to strike back with either her teeth or her razor-sharp tongue. “My ears aren’t that large …” she murmured softly in irritation.

Aurora put her finger to her mouth, signaling the dog to hush up before the soldiers heard her.

“Ei’er way, we’ve got us a problem. The boss dun’ like his camp being disturbed,” the larger soldier continued.

“You’re in the middle of the main road,” Venice commented as calmly as he could. “Can’t we just walk around your camp?”

“’Fraid not,” the skinny soldier replied. “We’re under strict orders from the Earl to keep interlopers away from the camp. Y’all just head back where you came from. The road’ll be clear tomorrow.”

“You say that as if we had somewhere to go,” Aurora protested. “There’s nowhere within a day’s walk for us to stay. Hashvale’s all been seized … except for the property of one frighteningly haggard old man.”

“I’m ’fraid we dun rightly care, ma’am,” the large soldier responded.

“What are you imbeciles distracting yourselves with now?” a grating voice called in their direction.

The soldiers turned their glances to an approaching chancellor. His face carried an expression of command and authority—counter to how he’d cowered before the Young Earl when Venice and Lola had encountered him previously. “Beg yer pardon, Chancellor, but we were jus’ dealin’ wit some interlopers. They can’t take th’ hint to head back wheres they came from.”

“Oh, for the love of— You’d think these bumpkins would take a hint already.” He griped.

The chancellor’s slender fingers crept like the legs of an arachnid as both of his hands took hold of the shoulders of two of the guards, before he proceeded to shove them out of the way with unexpected force. He stopped in front of the guards, his beady eyes scanning the group, his beak-like nose snuffling in frustration as he did. It was immediately obvious that he did not recognize Venice, scanning right past the hooded carpenter. Likewise, Aurora and Rook caused him little concern. When he noticed Lola, however, his brow arched in contemplation. “You look unpleasantly familiar,” the old coot said to her.

Lola, in reaction, stood silent and tilted her head in a false gesture of confusion. She hoped he’d buy it. “Doesn’t this dog look familiar to you louts?” the chancellor asked the soldiers.

“We dun’ rightly keep track of the dogs we come across, Chancellor,” the larger soldier responded.

The chancellor waved off the guard’s comment. “No, no, I remember. That back-water shack we visited outside of Hollyton,” he said. “The one the earl had you set aflame because of the owner’s refusal to pay his taxes?”

Venice and Lola gulped in unison, while Rook dove headfirst into the carpenter’s backpack for shelter.

“I guess it kinda rings a bell,” the short soldier replied.

“Chancellor, would you stifle yourself?” the earl’s voice called from inside the camp, loudly enough to be heard several towns over.

The fat monarch’s head poked out of the window of the coach in the center of the encampment. “If you interrupt my slumber one more time, I’ll have you executed, you pathetic worm of a man,” he bellowed, his face red with anger.

“M-my apologies, my liege. We’re simply attempting to do away some trespassers,” the chancellor replied. “Familiar ones. Remember the carpenter and the dog from the cottage outside Hollyton? They’re alive and well … and they’re traveling.”

The aging monarch’s assistant turned back to Venice. “And for what purpose?” he asked as a coy grin crept across his face.

“That is none of your concern,” Venice responded, coldly.

The earl gazed upon the group with little concern and gave a bored yawn. “Arrest them,” he said. “Search them, interrogate them, torture them … and not precisely in that order. Tell me the results in the morning.”

The spoiled monarch withdrew his head back into the coach, as the soldiers turned to detain the group of misfits. Venice, Lola, and Aurora backed away as they began their approach.

“What do we do now?” Aurora asked.

Rook poked his head out of Venice’s backpack. “Run, run, run, run, RUN!” he exclaimed, half-squawking as he did.

“Always with the chicken’s approach,” Lola commented, before sprinting in the opposite direction.

The Buhund found herself skidding to a sudden stop, as she turned to see another group of soldiers had assembled behind them. “This way!” Venice insisted as they ran off of the side of the road, evading the soldiers’ pincer attack as they did.

“Get them, you fools,” the chancellor screeched. “Don’t let them get away! All suspected enemies of the Royal Family must be detained!”

They kept running well away from the lit road, a small portion of the Royal Army in pursuit. A brush of dead trees could be seen ahead in the direction they were fleeing.

“A forest?” Aurora gasped, attempting to keep up with the carpenter and the Buhund.

“Let’s hope it’s not the Nightmare one!” Venice commented, sprinting ahead.

“Wait up, you loony! My legs aren’t as long as yours,” the lutenist protested.

Lola rushed right past her, grinning back at her as she did. “I’m not as light-weight as you, either!”

They cleared the brush and kept running, the network of dead trees zipping by as they did.

“Let them get away, you fools!” the chancellor’s voice could be heard in the distance. “That’s the Nightmare Forest. None of you will come out of there alive!”

###

The group continued running, in spite of the soldiers’ apparent retreat. They continued on for miles, only stopping for rest when it felt as if their limbs might shatter if they persisted in their flight. An old, rotten oak tree served as their support as they sat upon the ground gasping for air. The path around them was even less visible.

Still gasping for air, Lola lifted up her head. “When did it seem like a good idea to run into the Nightmare Forest?” she asked weakly.

“You both followed me,” Venice replied as he sat catching his breath.

“Point taken. I guess we’re all idiots here,” the Buhund replied as her face thudded back into the ground.

The carpenter looked around. “So, this is the Nightmare Forest? It doesn’t seem as bad as they make it out to be.”

“It doesn’t seem as bad?” Rook chimed in. “I can’t see a foot beyond the lantern’s light. Doesn’t that seem like a bad thing to you?”

“I suppose I was expecting the Bogba’el to pounce upon us the moment we entered,” he responded, reclining against the dead tree.

“Please don’t tempt fate,” Aurora quipped with exhaustion. “I’m not even eighteen yet. I’d like to live to see the day that I am.”

Rising, she attempted to peer into the darkness. “If we can’t see our way out, we might be able to use that compass of yours to point us around,” she said. “Is it still working?”

Venice retrieved the small stone device from his side pouch and examined the dial. “Seems fine.”

“We should head east, then. The forest runs thicker north and south than east and west,” Rook commented.

“Who made you the navigator?” Venice asked angrily.

Rook rolled his eyes the best a rooster could. “Check your map, dear scholar,” the cockerel said sharply.

Venice pulled out and unfolded his map. “Oh. I guess you’re right.”

“Yes, finally someone listens to the chicken,” Rook said with an odd mix of triumph and sarcasm.

Venice reexamined the compass and pointed directly ahead of himself. “So, we’ll be going this way. This is east.”

“Sounds like a plan. Although, it’ll be a bit of a detour,” Aurora said.

Lola got to her feet as they continued talking, shaking the dirt out of her ears. She turned her head away from their conversation and stared off into the darkness, wondering what horrors truly slept within the forest. Those thoughts were interrupted when she noticed a large, yellow eye open in the adjacent darkness. It was followed by the opening of numerous other yellow eyes of varying size. “Um, guys,” she called back to the others.

They paid her no mind as they continued their conversation. A large mouth, filled with needle-like teeth, opened in the darkness among the abundance of unsightly yellow eyes. “Um, guys,” she tried again, backing away in fear.

“Lola, don’t interrupt our conversation. It’s rude,” Venice said.

“Tell that to the Bogba’el!” the Buhund cried, darting back from the mass of living darkness.

The creature lurched forward, a claw of solid shadow reaching for Lola. Its gaping mouth released no sound, although it looked as if it was snarling.

“Get away from her, you abomination!” Venice exclaimed, launching himself to his feet.

The carpenter lunged forward, and quickly detached the lantern from his belt. Without hesitation, he broke open the container, sending the fairy-fire inside bobbing into the Bogba’el’s face. The small ball of light left a burn of crystalline green above its mouth. It cried out in agony, letting forth an otherworldly shriek. “Let’s go. Now!” He pointed them east, then took off running, grabbing Aurora by the hand.

Lola followed with little issue, running alongside the two humans and rooster they had in tow. The monster let out another terrifying screech, louder than the last. She could feel it pursuing them as its footsteps shook the ground behind them. “Please tell me you have another lantern!” Lola panted as they fled the beast.

“I let the other eight fairy-fires I caught when we were camping go free! I didn’t plan for this.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

Lola’s words were cut off when the remnants of a dead tree flew past them. They turned back as they were running to see that the Bogba’el was uprooting and splintering the dead trees in its path, all in the pursuit of them. “Why is it even after us?” she cried.

“I’m not a Bogba’el expert!” the carpenter replied as they continued attempting to flee. “All I know is that it eats anything living that crosses their path!”

“It wants to eat us?” Aurora cried out.

“Body, soul, and heart! They leave nothing behind, so keep running!” Venice confirmed.

Aurora broke his grip and started running ahead of him at break-neck speed. “Get out of my way!” she screamed. “I want to liiiive.”

Lola and Venice continued after her, Rook hanging onto Venice’s backpack for dear life. The beast continued its pursuit, regardless of how fast they ran. Several tendrils of pure shadow had extended from its body as it followed them, reaching in vain for them.

“It’s not going to give up, is it?” Lola asked.

“They tend not to eat very often,” Rook answered. “I’d wager we’re its first meal in a while.”

A volley of dead tree pieces flew past them again, a large splinter of wood narrowly missing Rook’s head and flying past Venice’s face. Lola glanced back to see that mass of eerie yellow eyes had increased. Likewise, the Bogba’el’s open mouth was much larger than she remembered it being the last time she looked. “It’s getting bigger,” she exclaimed.

“Just keep running! If we clear the forest, it should be more difficult for it to follow us!” Venice replied.

As those words left his lips, one of the beast’s shadow tendrils reached forward and wrapped itself around Lola’s neck. The Buhund cried out as it lifted her off the ground. It had stopped, having snared itself a bit of prey. An enormous tongue whipped around in its mouth as it eyed her in its clutches, letting out an otherworldly squeal of delight. Fooood. Weee feeed, a voice sounded in her head. Weee feeeed.

She flinched as its tendril brought her closer to it. Then there was a glimmer. She opened her eyes to see that there was something glowing underneath the bandana around her neck. The Bogba’el screeched as the tendril it used to capture her was incinerated, the burning spreading to its main body and its other tendrils shriveling as crystalline green marks covered its shadowy skin. Lola fell to the ground as the binds disappeared.

Liiiightt. Iiit buurnss uus! the voice sounded again.

Lola sprinted away, running as fast as her legs would carry her, as the beast sat screaming in agony. Spitzen haaas liiigght?! Spitzen buuurrn uus! Spitzen buurrn uus!! the voice called again.

The Bogba’el let out another shriek, and attempted to keep chasing the Buhund regardless of its injured state. She saw Venice ahead, waiting for her.

“Come on!” he called to her. “We can see light at the other end of the brush! We’re almost there!”

“Where were you when it grabbed me?” she called back at him.

He continued running beside her as she caught up. “By the time I noticed it’d grabbed you, you’d already done … whatever to it.”

She huffed at his reply, although she could see a dim blue glow breaking through the darkness in the distance. Aurora was already waiting at the edge for them.

“Come on, come on!” the lutenist called to them impatiently. “Let’s get out of here!”

They both sprinted past her, Venice grabbing her arm as they did. In the final moments of their flight, the three of them tripped over a thick brush and fell down a small precipice, tumbling their way out of the last bit of the forest. Lola picked a small number of prickles from her face as she recovered from the fall.

“Ugh. That bloody hurt!” Venice said, lying flat on his stomach. “I think most of them are in my back!”

Aurora got to her knees, brushing off the few prickles that had stuck to her arms. “Are we safe?” she asked in a pained voice.

Lola surveyed around them. “It hasn’t descended upon us, so I’m guessing—”

Rook freed himself from Venice’s pack and quickly put a wing over Lola’s mouth. “Shh! Look in the brush above,” he commanded in an obnoxiously loud whisper.

She glanced above to see the injured Bogba’el watching them from within the brush. The uncountable amount of its yellow eyes stared down upon them with the utmost disdain, glaring fiercely. The entire party sat waiting for it to strike, but several minutes passed and the creature did not leave the brush. They gazed behind themselves to see a vast marsh, lit by a large number of blue fairy-fires.

“I guess it can’t tolerate the light,” Venice suggested.

Lola snickered at the monster’s expense. “Sucks to be you!” she taunted. “You’re not so tough with a few lights on, now are you?”

Stuupiiid SPITZEN, the voice from before called.

“What was that?” Venice asked.

“It’s talking,” Rook answered conclusively. “The Bogba’el is talking.”

“And it just insulted me!” the Buhund protested.

Stuuupiid SPITZEN. Liiight noot whaaat weee feeaaarr, the monster spoke again. Aalll huuuuman, chiiikeeen. Aaaall stuuupidd as SPITZEN.

“Hey!” Venice protested, offended by its comments.

A squeal-like chuckle sounded in the same voice, and the monster shook its head the best one without a head could. Aaaalll sooo stuuupiiid. Weee nooot kiiilll aalll. Buut aaalll diiiiee toodaaay.

“What do you mean?” Lola asked. “We made it away from you! I think we’ll live a nice long time!”

The same chuckle sounded again. Aaaalll seee sooooon. Sooooonn. Aaaalll sooo scaaareeed ooof uuuss. Buutt heee scaaaree yooouu woorseee.

All of the eyes faded back into the brush. The Bogba’el was gone.

“What did it mean?” Aurora asked.

“I’m pretty sure it was just taunting us,” Venice replied, digging his compass and map out of his pouch. “Nothing more than a supernatural sore loser.”

“I wouldn’t discount what it says,” Rook said. “The Bogba’el may be a horrible being, but it takes something even more terrible to scare it off. We should at least take some of what it said with a grain of salt.”

“Why did it keep calling Lola Spitzen?” Aurora asked. “I’ve never heard that word before.”

“It’s Oldentongue. It simply refers to the fact that dogs are descended from Spitz, the first dog. The word would be considered condescending by current standards if it were still used,” Rook replied. “I have to wonder why it would be speaking using such dated words. Then again, I wasn’t exactly aware that the Bogba’el could speak until today.”

Lola disregarded their conversation. “Where are we, anyway?”

Venice was still attempting to read his map, squinting at the parchment in a vain effort to read it in the dark. “It’d be easier to tell if I had a light to read by.”

The carpenter reached over his shoulder and pulled an empty lantern out of his backpack. “One moment.”

He opened the front of the device and began whistling loudly in the direction of several fairy-fire orbs drifting over the marsh ahead of them. One of the orbs responded to the tune and floated over to him. As the fairy-fire orb carefully approached, he persisted in whistling, hoping not to frighten it off. When it was near enough, he swung the open end of the lantern over it and slammed the hatch closed. “Gotcha!” he proclaimed triumphantly.

“Good for you. Now read the map!” Lola insisted.

“Have a little patience,” he mumbled, as he scanned the map.

The rest of the group sat waiting for several minutes, as Venice checked and rechecked the map.

“So, where are we?” Aurora finally asked.

He folded up the map and tucked it away. “We’re in the Marsh of Sorrow.”

“Sounds festive,” Lola commented.

Her companions all looked upon her with irritation.

“What? Too soon?”

Next Chapter: (Book 1) Chapter 06 - The Marsh of Sorrow