They sat by the brush bordering between the marsh and the forest for about an hour attempting to rest. After evading the worst things fate had to offer two times in the same day it was needless to say all of them were exhausted. Lola had sprawled out in a patch of dried marsh grass, reclining on her side. The strum of Aurora’s lute kept her from drifting into unconsciousness, despite the soothing sound of the melody the girl was playing.

Lola occasionally looked up to observe the young lutenist playing her instrument. Aurora’s eyes were always shut as she played, although her nimble fingers never missed a chord. As she played on further, it seemed less and less that Aurora was consciously sitting by the marsh with her and the others. It occurred to Lola that the girl had delved herself so deep into the song she was playing in order to escape reality, albeit only a temporary measure. The Buhund pondered if such a method of escape was what had allowed the young woman to keep her sanity in the darkness. However, she was reluctant to ask Aurora for confirmation of such a theory. Instead, she left the lutenist to her ballade, not daring to encroach upon the girl’s one reprieve from what had surely been an incredibly rotten day.

As Aurora continued to play her lute, she began singing softly in a language that Lola could only recognize as Eastern Oldentongue. The dog could not understand a word of it. She rolled over to see Venice sitting cross-legged a few feet away, eagerly scanning the marsh in the distance. The dark markings under his eyes had gotten much more noticeable in the past few days, she realized. She’d resisted her underlying urge to tend to his stress and unhappiness as they’d travelled, out of sheer stubbornness—although she couldn’t justify why when she thought about it. Perhaps it was to prove to herself that she wasn’t simply a dog, or simply not the weak-minded and frail creature Trimbelle’s Glossary had described her kind as? She resisted thinking upon it further to avoid stirring up more grief.

A pair of familiar orange talons touched down in front of her face. “Feeling any better?” Rook asked.

She let out a huff. “Only a little bit. My legs are still a bit achy.” The dog stretched out her legs before rolling over onto her stomach. “I don’t suppose it’d be worth asking you to walk on your own two feet through the marsh?”

“I suppose I could,” he replied as he brushed back his red comb with his wing. “Although I’m not much of a swimmer …”

“Marshes tend not to be deep,” Venice chimed in, looking over at the rooster and the dog. “You should be fine.”

The carpenter got to his feet, dusting dirt and dead grass from his pants and cloak as he did. “There doesn’t appear to be a central pool of water in this marsh, anyhow,” he continued explaining. “Merely a few pockets of water and some very damp soil.”

“Then why the look of concern when you found out where we are?” Lola inquired.

Venice picked up his backpack and slid his arms through the straps. “I won’t lie that I’m a bit worried. I always heard stories of a haunted marsh that preyed upon people’s negative emotions during my youth, but I never believed them. Then again, I didn’t exactly take the time to look at a map for an area larger than Hollyton while I was growing up.”

“It’s also not as if we planned on taking a detour to the east,” Rook added.

“Correct. So, I suppose I can’t help feeling a little concerned about waltzing through a placed called the Marsh of Sorrow,” Venice concluded. “Hopefully, we’ll get through this place unscathed.”

Kneeling, he scratched Lola behind the ears gently. “Come. It’s time to head on.”

Lola got to her feet with a thorough stretch. “Let’s just get this over with. I really need a nap.”

“Aurora, we’re going,” Venice called over to the musician.

The tune she was playing stopped. She looked upon her lute, dissatisfied. “Just when I was getting to the twentieth verse,” she mumbled, replacing the lute over her shoulder.

Venice trotted over the edge of a nearby water pocket. “I certainly hope wherever we stop after this has hot baths available,” he said. “If I didn’t need one now, I’m certainly going to need one after this.”

His boots made an unsightly squishing noise as he trotted into the mud. When he stepped forward into a water pocket, his boot submerged up to the point of his pant-leg.

“Deeper than you thought?” Rook asked.

“A bit,” the carpenter answered while attempting to free his foot. “This water has to be the coldest thing I’ve ever felt!”

“We’re living in a wasteland that has no sunlight. By all accounts, it’s a surprise it isn’t frozen,” the rooster offered.

Venice looked back at them, the shadows under his eyes even more apparent. “Are you three following or am I braving this alone while you sit back and offer commentary?”

They followed him into the water pocket without a word. Lola found the water to be unpleasantly cold, and unlike any chill she’d ever felt before. “Even ice isn’t this frigid!” she complained with a groan.

“Just keep on. We’ll be out of here soon,” Venice replied.

They kept drudging through the small pool of water. As they did, Lola could feel the cold of the marsh waters move past her fur and skin, into her muscles and down into her bones. It was a powerful and unnatural chill, and one that toyed cruelly with the senses in ways she did not expect. She drudged on nonetheless, having given herself to trust Venice’s words that their journey through the waters would only be brief.

As they continued on, however, it seemed as if the water pocket had expanded on all sides. By all accounts, the depth of the water had not increased, but they saw less and less dry land as they carried on. The bay on the other end of the marsh was still visible, although it suddenly seemed more distant.

“I thought you said there was no central body of water in this marsh?” Aurora inquired.

“From a distance, it didn’t look like there was!” Venice shouted back at her, shivering intensely. “It’s almost as if the water pocket widened as we walked through it.”

“Yes, I’m certain your poor planning and eyesight wasn’t a factor,” Lola added, her voice shaking as her body shivered.

“Cram a bloody chew toy in it!” the carpenter replied angrily. “I did the best I could!”

Lola looked around at her comrades to notice that they were all trembling from the cold. “Maybe we should head for the shore and get out? Just walk around the coast?” she suggested.

“Walking through the middle of the marsh is quicker, though,” Venice countered.

“Is it always with the abruptness over common sense with you?” the Buhund asked. “We might get through quicker, but we’ll probably freeze to death in that time.”

Aurora’s teeth could be heard chattering as she tried to poise her lips to speak. “I agree with Lola. I’d willingly take the long way around if it means we’ll survive.”

Lola noticed Rook was shivering even more intensely than the others. “Rook, are you alright?”

“S-so c-c-c-cold,” the rooster answered.

“The poor fellow’s too chilled to even form a coherent sentence,” Aurora commented. “We should move back to the coast.”

They all turned to Venice in front of their party. He stood silent, his gaze not looking at any of them.

“Venice, did you hear her?” the dog asked.

“It’s my fault,” he replied in a sullen tone.

The other three looked at each other, dumbfounded. “N-no n-need t-to b-be s-s-so h-hard on y-yourself, m-man,” Rook shivered out.

“It’s my fault,” Venice restated. “He would still be here with us.”

As he said those words, Lola noticed the marsh waters around his calves bubbling slightly. He’d begun sinking into the marsh. “Venice! You’re sinking,” she called to him in warning.

The young man turned to look at her, his green eyes filled with an unfamiliar and unnerving emptiness. He made no reply, as his eyes drifted downward toward the water. A faint image of two little boys playing in a dark forest reflected on the water’s surface as Venice’s sinking accelerated. Soon he was shoulder-deep in the waters.

“Venice!” Lola bellowed after him.

She attempted to grab hold of him by his shirt collar, tugging upon it with her teeth as the others stood panicking. He was pulled out of her grip by the marsh, and completely submerged. They could find no sign of him in the water they waded in. “NO!” the dog lamented.

“Lola!” Aurora exclaimed.

The Buhund glanced up to see that a similar image projection had appeared in the water by Aurora’s knees. The lutenist appeared to be absolutely terrified.

“Don’t look at it!” the rooster commanded. “It’s trying to unearth your deepest regrets and grief. If it does, you’ll belong to it forever!”

The girl struggled to turn away, but found she could not. “I can’t! It’s all so vivid in my mind,” she cried. “That poor family. Sent to rot for the rest of their lives because of my naïve advice ...”

She sank into the marsh at a much quicker speed than Venice. The waters had engulfed her before either Lola or Rook could reach for her.

“Rook, what’s going on?” Lola asked desperately.

“I had hoped the marsh had weakened in the days of darkness, like most magic,” he replied. “But now it’s stronger than it was so many decades ago. The moment you touch the water, it creeps into your heart. It searches for all sources of sorrow it can find in your memories and thoughts, and draws them out. You can fight it if you ignore the thoughts it puts in your head. But if you are foolish enough to look upon the visions the marsh shows you upon the water, it will be able to claim you.”

The Buhund tried to make sense of his words. “What thoughts? I’ve had no thoughts of such negative things since we stepped foot in here! All I care about is getting across with my friends!”

Rook chuckled half-heartedly. “Then you are lucky, because the marsh has nothing to prey upon,” he said. “Meanwhile, since the moment I stepped in, I have been unable to stop thinking of my beloved wife.”

Lola noticed a faint image appear upon the water in front of him. He had not looked at it. “Perhaps I did not tell you all the full details when I disclosed my life alongside my dear Quinoa,” the cockerel said. “She was not lost to old age as I implied.”

The dog tilted her head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Much like Venice’s friend, Turin, she was consumed by the Bogba’el,” he continued. “And all because of my foolishness.”

To Lola’s shock, he willingly gazed down upon the image in the water. “Perhaps it’s time I joined her, and made amends for the mistakes I have made.”

He looked up at the Buhund, as he began to sink. “Good-bye, Lola.”

The rooster vanished under the water. “No! Rook, come back, you coward!” she cried.

Terrified and upset, the young Buhund looked around the marsh. Despite her exhaustion and her eagerness to finish crossing, she had no desire to do so alone. She dug in the muck, hoping to reach them, but the layer of mud under the water would not give way to those it had just swallowed. In her frustration, she slammed her front paws into the muck repeatedly, breaking into sobs and labored breaths.

A large rock rose out of the water not too far from her, a small patch of dry grass surrounding it. From behind it crept a humanoid shape that reclined atop the rock as it reached its peak. Although its shape resembled that of a human, it was clear to the young Buhund that it was not a human being. Its hair grew short and as black the lightless sky, while is skin was a powdery grey. A pair of horns like that of a wild ram sat at the back of its head, parting its hair slightly. The creature itself wore a surprisingly spotless suit of red, black, and pale purple. Its yellow eyes glared upon her as its black lips formed a smirk. “Would you mind telling me why you haven’t submerged yet, young lady?” it asked in a distorted, yet predominately male voice.

“Give me back my friends!” she demanded.

The creature scoffed. “I do not take orders from anyone, be they human, dog, or High Spirit,” it stated. “Now, be a good girl and answer Dukha’s question, hmm?”

“I don’t know why I haven’t sunk in like the others. If I don’t know why, how am I supposed to tell you?”

It leaned its head in its hand, the smirk on its face widening. “How curious. The Buhund wanders in here covered in protective magic and doesn’t even realize it.”

It made a circle with its forefinger and thumb, hovering over its eye as if it were using a monocle to examine her. “Ah. I see. The answer is never as simple as I want it to be,” it said, dropping its hand from its face.

“Forgive me if this sounds rude, but what in the world are you?” Lola asked coarsely.

“I am Dukha, the Caco-Spirit of the Marsh,” it replied. “Now, what do you say we get to work on having you join your friends? I don’t have all day, after all.”

She bared her teeth at him. “I’m not playing along with whatever sick scheme you have going on here, and you will return my friends!”

Dukha was not fazed by her demands. He raised one of his hands and twiddled his fingers toward the water. “You’re certain? There’s no regret or sorrow you can give me?”

A vivid image of the burning fowl coop from back at the cottage appeared on the water. “Do you feel no sorrow or regret for allowing those poor birds to perish in the fire?” the Caco-Spirit asked.

She looked down at the image briefly, and noticed that she had yet to begin sinking. Her glance shot back up at Dukha. “I did what I could!” she said angrily. “You’re wasting your time! Dogs don’t hold onto regret like humans do. Our lives don’t last long enough to allow it!”

The Caco-Spirit burst out laughing. “And you’re aware of that! Most dogs are ignorant of how short their lifespan is compared to humans.”

He twiddled his fingers again, in a motion as if he were stirring the water. “That’s a regret, isn’t it?” he asked. “Knowing that you’re going to die of old age long before your dear Venice and leave him all alone.”

An image of Venice holding her in his arms and mourning over her body appeared in the water. “He doesn’t have to say it, but you know you’re the only sunshine that brightens up his weary world. He’d be so lost without you.”

She snarled, looking up at the Caco-Spirit as she stomped the vision in the water out of existence. “Except he’ll never lose me if you’ve already claimed him,” the dog replied with a fierce growl. “Give him back. Aurora and Rook, too!”

Dukha’s face fell. “You’re no fun,” he replied. “All that tasty sorrow lurking inside you and I can’t even draw it out.”

Sitting up, he folded his hands over his lap. “I need sorrow to live. In the way that you need food and water to continue your existence, I need sorrow,” the being explained. “What you see here is just a friendly face I put on for difficult guests such as yourself. In actuality, this entire marsh is my body. You must understand that this is all done for my survival. Without sorrow to feed me, I will wither and die.”

“You’re breaking my heart,” Lola said in an unmoved tone.

“However, it is rare that I find one that I cannot lure into drowning within their own regrets and sorrows,” he continued, ignoring her quip. “I’ll entertain something different, but just this once. I’m going to make a deal with you.”

Her ears folded behind her head. “What kind of deal?”

“An all or nothing kind of deal!” the creature said with a wide grin. “I will open the soil layer and allow you access to your friends, but you must retrieve them yourself.”

“What if I can’t?” the Buhund asked.

Dukha’s grin grew wider. “Then the marsh will close up around you. You will have no choice but to open your heart to the sorrow, and you will belong to me,” he explained. “Do we have a deal?”

Lola hesitated at the suggestion, knowing she was already incredibly exhausted. “You’d uphold your end and let them go if I succeed?”

“I am an abomination of his word,” Dukha replied. “If you succeed, I will allow you and your friends to leave.”

“Then I’ll agree,” the Buhund answered.

The Caco-Spirit’s eyes lit up. “Good girl. Now, shake!” he said, holding out his hand to her.

She held up her right front paw to him, and he grasped it in his hand tightly, his long nails gently wrapping around her. As he held onto her paw, he drew in close. “Good. Now go. Your friends can’t wait forever,” he said, releasing his grip.

The Caco-Spirit pointed behind her, causing her to turn in reaction. She could see that a large circle of mud had parted back behind her, revealing a layer of water under the marsh itself that was illuminated by several glowing blue lights. None of her missing three friends was visible.

“Well, then. Get a move on,” Dukha said from behind her.

She turned back to the spirit. “Don’t I even get a hint where they are?”

“Where would the fun be in that? It’d take the challenge right out of this,” he said. “Now get on with it.”

Wearily, she waded up to the edge of the opening. She drew in a deep breath and dove into the water. The chilling nature of the waters crept deeper under her fur and skin as she submersed into it. Very quickly, the chill turned to a sensation of burning. She suppressed a painful yelp as she paddled deeper into the marsh. The marsh water in front of her eyes but a blur, she wondered how she would find her friends. Within a few seconds her vision became clearer, but not by much.

She swam down deep and quickly found herself paddling slightly above the bottom of the marsh bed. From the corner of her eyes, she could see the bones of those long ago lost to the marsh sinking into the muck. Her attention was brought back to what was in front of her when she unintentionally collided with a floating object that proceeded to obscure her sight. In shock, she pushed back from what she’d bumped into, fearing what she may’ve stumbled upon. The unconscious body of Aurora Song was floating directly in front of her.

The girl appeared to be sleeping soundly, although an expression of intense sorrow covered her face. A large bubble floated above her head, the same reflection from before displayed upon it in greater detail. The reflection showed a much younger Aurora watching a family being escorted away by soldiers of the Royal Army. Lola paid it little mind and grabbed hold of the girl’s collar with her teeth.

She kicked and flailed as she struggled to lift the lutenist’s heavy body to the surface. The bubble over Aurora’s head popped and she suddenly became lighter. In reaction, Lola paddled furiously toward the marshland above. Within a few seconds, she broke the surface and dragged Aurora’s form onto a nearby patch of grass. As she released her jaws, she coughed up an enormous amount of water and gasped desperately for air. “That’s one down,” a nearby Dukha commented. “Two to go. Keep up the show … I’m finding this incredibly entertaining.”

Lola bared her fangs at the Caco-Spirit in irritation before turning to dive back into the gap in the marsh. As she dove back in, the burning cold started once again at twice the intensity. The pressure on her lungs seemed even greater than before as she swam deeper into the abyss below, making her feel as if she might faint. She stayed conscious nonetheless.

She found a sleeping Rook in a similar state to the one she’d found Aurora in, not too far from where she’d found the girl. A bubble displaying an image of him and a hen walking through a dark forest floated above his head, popping abruptly when she took hold of his tail feathers and pulled him toward the surface. She dropped to the bottom of the marsh, and kicked off of the floor to propel herself above. When they reached the surface, she flung him unceremoniously to the patch of dry land beside a newly roused Aurora. She drew in a desperate breath, coughing up water and choking as she did.

A drowsy Aurora looked shocked at the wet rooster that’d been flung beside her. “Lola, what’s going on?” she asked.

“She’s saving your lives, dear girl,” Dukha answered, still atop his rock.

The Caco-Spirit looked to the Buhund. “That’s two down, girlie,” he said, counting on his fingers. “One to go.”

Lola ignored him, taking a deep breath and diving back into the waters a third time. The searing cold overwhelmed her senses, impairing her vision. She kicked hard and vigorously toward the marsh bed. She returned to the point where she’d found both Aurora and Rook, but the unconscious body of Venice was nowhere in sight. She swam on, farther away from the opening above and deeper into the shadows. Her lungs grew tight inside her chest as she paddled onward in search of the carpenter.

The blue lights floating through the water did little to assist her vision as she pursued Venice’s location. She clumsily tripped over the skeleton of what appeared to have been a human, crying out in fright as she did and forcing the air out of her lungs. The time she could spend submerged was growing shorter by the second, and all the shorter because of her outburst.

She found Venice’s form floating farther down, cloaked in shadows except for the glowing bubble of visions above his head. Desperately, she gripped the shoulder of his shirt with her jaws. He was considerably more difficult to dislodge than either Aurora or Rook were when she found them. She continued tugging, feeling as if she might pass out from the lack of air. After several violent tugs, the bubble above his head popped and he came loose from where he was floating. She rushed back in the direction she came, towing the carpenter with her.

As she swam it became painfully obvious how much heavier Venice was in comparison to the lutenist and the rooster. Her legs felt as if they might give way beneath her if she were to stand; yet she kept kicking. It seemed as if eons had passed by the time her head rose above the water and into the air. She dragged Venice onto the patch next to Aurora and Rook, collapsing as she released her grip. Exhausted, the little dog gasped desperately for air.

Venice’s eyes shot open. “What’s just happened?”

“And that makes three!” Dukha commented. “This certainly wasn’t what I was expecting, but I suppose I have to keep up my end of the deal. You and your friends are free to leave.”

“Who are you and what are you talking about?” the carpenter asked.

“He’s the Caco-Spirit of this marsh,” Rook said. “He explained it while Lola was retrieving you.”

Lola lay on the grass next to him, her fur soaked and her breathing growing weak. “It seems as if the poor thing’s worn herself out,” the Caco-Spirit remarked. “The deal stands. Now, all of you get out of my sight before I change my mind. Shoo! On with you!”

Dukha and the rock he was sitting on both collapsed into the marsh without a sound. The group looked to one another for an answer. “I suppose we’d better take him on his word,” Rook said, breaking the silence. “It appears we’re near the other end of the marsh, at least.”

Venice struggled to his feet and picked up the weakened Buhund in his arms. “We’ve got to hurry. I think Lola might need a doctor.”

“Do you think there’s one in the nearest town?” Aurora asked as she stood up.

“The map said the town of Currantshore was to the east of the marsh, if I remember correctly. Let’s go. We don’t have time to contemplate this,” he replied as he walked back onto the shore of the marsh.

“Hold on. I’m exhausted!” Rook protested, attempting to follow him.

“Rook’s right. Don’t walk so fast, Venice,” Aurora said. “I’m fairly fatigued as well.”

The carpenter’s entire form was trembling as they caught up to him. “Venice, are you cold or something?” the rooster asked.

Venice kept walking, as he struggled to convey a response. “I’m not cold. It’s just that every muscle in my body is struggling to keep functioning,” he managed to shudder out.

They walked past the marsh’s east bay and into a field of dried grass. “You’re just as exhausted as us. Don’t you think we should stop for a moment to catch our breath?” Aurora insisted.

He continued trembling as he walked, his movement becoming stiff. “But what about Lola?”

“She’s just exhausted, like the rest of us,” Rook explained. “Just take a min—” The rooster collapsed in the grass in mid-sentence.

Aurora rushed to his side, kneeling beside him. “Are you all right?” she asked in labored breath.

Venice turned and began to approach as Aurora’s knees gave way beneath her and she fell face-first to the ground. He could hear her snoring. “They could’ve at least waited until we found somewhere to stop …” he mumbled to himself.

His muscles went into spasms and his legs gave way beneath him. He could feel himself drifting into sleep, unable to keep his body awake. The carpenter looked to the unconscious Buhund in his arms, then to the field ahead. As he faded completely into sleep he noticed a form resembling a fat, fuzzy, white pig standing in the distance.

Next Chapter: (Book 1) Chapter 07 - A Sage Upon the Shore