Chapter Fourteen: The Escape
Bohdan Dune and the Perilum Tales
Warmest Greetings and Salutations!
It has been an unexpected break between installments and for that I offer my most sincere apologies. Moving from the rainy evergreens of Washington to the balmy palms of Hawaii took more out of me than expected.
But never fear — Bohdan and his ragtag adventaneers are back! If you need to get caught up on previous chapters you can do so HERE (I suggest started with “The Kingdom of Gallimaufria” followed by the Interview with the cast)
Happy reading!
Surely, Bohdan’s luck had run out.
He plunged into the murky river. It engulfed him, as thick as cactree syrup. The muddy water made it impossible to know which way was up. Something caught on his tunic as a tug of pressure pulled him sideways. Bohdan kicked and flailed with all his might, but it was no use. Whatever had ahold of him wasn’t letting go.
Seconds ticked by. This was the end. There was no amount of luck in the whole of Gallimaufria that could save him this time. He thought of Fedir and Silver waiting for him. Of the Collector hot on their heels. Of Ma back home in Ravo. The thought of never seeing her again stabbed like a knife. Of Cobran locked away in the city beneath the mountain.
Lungs screaming, Bohdan mustered what little strength he had left and yanked on his tunic. Consciousness began slipping away, then, just as suddenly, he burst through the surface.
“Bohdan!” Silver’s voice rang out through the rushing movement of whatever still had a hold of him.
Gasping and sputtering, Bohdan flapped against a rough curved wall moving quickly through the river. His tunic was caught on a strange looking piece of wood. Like a great hexagon in different shades of brown and tan. He looked over and saw Fedir and Silver following him along the shoreline, carefully picking their way over fallen logs and puddles of mud.
The domed wall continued rising up out of the water, taking Bohdan along with it. As he ascended, he realized the piece of wood wasn't wood at all. He was caught on the shell of a gargantuan turtle.
It had to be twenty feet across and nearly twice as long. Finally able to see, Bohdan pulled his tunic free from the knot on the turtle’s shell and climbed. As the creature rose up out of the water, Bohdan saw he had been comically wrong about its size. The enormous animal was bigger than a house.
Bohdan swayed on his feet as he reached the top of the shell, careful not to lose his balance as the turtle began to slow beneath the outstretched branches of a bedraggled looking tree. He anchored his weight as best he could, then stood on to his tiptoes to grab a hold of a low-hanging branch. Sap and needle-like leaves stuck to his fingers as hurried along, one hand after the other.
Silver screamed. Bohdan peered over his shoulder and nearly lost his grip. The turtle lunged its head out from its shell and chomped down on a mouthful of branches. It tore them away as easily as flame-flower petals.
“Hurry, Wastey! We’ll catch you!”
Bohdan hustled as he’d never hustled in his life. Again, the turtle snapped its monstrous jaws at the tree, narrowly missing Bohdan’s left arm. As soon as he was to the trunk, he half slid, half fell into the waiting arms of Fedir and Silver.
“Whew! You are one lucky kid, Wastey,” Fedir laughed breathlessly as he helped Bohdan to his feet. “How many times have you escaped death by drowning? Are you sure you don’t have some magic in those skinny little limbs of yours?”
But Bohdan didn’t have time to respond. The snarls of and grunts of running men filled the air. “There they are!”
The three children whipped around. The Collector’s ship had moored just downriver, and part of the crew were running after them on foot.
“Run!” Silver shouted as she hurried away from the river and into the marsh.
The ground was uneven and riddled with puddles and squelching mud. Bugs swarmed all around, buzzing in their ears and mouths as they went. Mudfrogs and swamp-toads croaked irritably. The grunts and shouts of the crew were eclipsed by the livid shrieks of the Collector.
“Three bags of gold coin to the man who brings me those connivin’ little brats!”
Bohdan forced himself onward. His heart beat as wildly as a wasterbeast. Silver flew through the thick undergrowth as silently as a ghost. Fedir ran alongside, refusing to let Bohdan slow down. A branch covered in thorns hit Bohdan’s cheek. He winced at the pain.
“Keep going, Wastey! Better dead in the marsh than at the hands of that lunatic!”
The ground dipped without warning, sending Bohdan, Fedir, and Silver tumbling head over foot down a muddy slope. They landed with a hard thud, and Bohdan lay sprawled upon the mushy ground. Sludge and fallen leaves stuck to his face, hair and clothes.
“Don’t move,” Silver whispered.
Bohdan blinked. If Fedir and Silver’s eyes weren’t so brilliantly blue and silver, Bohdan would have thought they were simply part of the marsh. He could only pray their camouflage would fool the Collector and her crew.
The rumbling and shouts of the crew grew closer then came to a halt. Bohdan willed himself to remain as still as a cactree.
“What do we do, your Collectorship?”
Bohdan recognized the voice of the sweaty man who’d carried him around the night before. There was a short silence.
“Half of you go west, half east. If they ventured south, they’re as good as dead. No little lovey is worth takin’ on the Vody Laiths.”
The snapping of branches and disgruntled voices faded away in the distance. Once certain the coast was clear, Bohdan sat up. They were sitting in a small clearing. The tallest trees they’d come across so far in the Marshlands created a long, arched corridor, stretching far into the distance. Bohdan stood. At the end of the long tunnel of trees, the unmistakable glow of daylight shone like a beacon of hope.
“The edge of the marsh!” Bohdan couldn’t believe their luck.
Fedir and Silver scrambled to their feet. Fedir punched the air excitedly then locked Bohdan and Silver into a tight embrace.
“We did it!” Fedir cheered. “Fishes below, Wastey. We actually did it!”
“Don’t count your winterberries before they bloom.” Silver broke loose and attempted to wipe the mire from her face and clothes to no avail.
“We’ve dodged Shredders, the Collector, overgrown tree-eating turtles and the river,” Fedir countered. “We can handle a hallway of trees.”
Bohdan studied the miry ground. It seemed harmless enough, but he didn’t trust anything in the Marshlands now. “Do we walk or climb?”
“Where does the thread go?” asked Silver.
Bohdan held up his pendant. The thread shone out along the pathway toward the glorious daylight. A wave of relief washed over him.
The next two hours passed by in a haze of exhilarated exhaustion. Their hands trembled and body ached from all the climbing, creeping, running, and swimming they’d undertaken since entering the Marshlands. Their boots were soaked through from trudging through the endless mud and watery ground.
At long last they came to the edge of the marshy forest. Despite a cloudy sky, the pale light still blazed after their time in the dark and hazy swamp. Bohdan stood and soaked it in. After a lifetime in the wastes, his whole being felt refilled with hope as he tilted his face toward the sky.
A slight haze hung in the air, making it impossible to see more than a couple yards ahead. A flat salt-marsh lay before them. Tall grass and puddles, like the kind Bohdan and Fedir had traveled through near Teller’s Point, was all that stood between them and the outer reaches of the Heartlands, and Chaosity.
“It almost feels too easy,” said Fedir warily as he stared out.
Bohdan held up the pendant once more, but this time, his heart sank. The thread shot out to the left, leading back into the tree line of the marsh.
“No way.” Silver shook her head and crossed her arms. “I refuse.”
“The thread hasn’t steered us wrong yet,” Bohdan rebutted more confidently than he felt.
“I dunno, Wastey.” Fedir sighed as he raked a hand through his filthy hair. “This doesn’t look any different from the salt marsh we tackled near Teller’s Point. What if we stick to the grass? I’ve had enough of the Marshlands to last a lifetime.”
Silver nodded in agreement.
Bohdan hesitated. Something in his gut told him to follow the thread. But Silver had spent months in the marsh, and Fedir was a Hunsman-in-training. He trusted them, and besides, the worst thing they’d come across near Teller’s Point was a swamp-toad.
“Okay,” Bohdan agreed. “We stick to the grass.”
Bohdan led the way through the yellow grasses of the salt-marsh. They passed a wary, long-legged bird, sleek and white as it lunged at something in the water. The haze still hung in the air, obstructing their view. As they walked, Bohdan couldn’t shake the feeling that they should have followed the thread along the tree line. The air, like in the swamp, was thick and still. Too still.
“When we get to Chaosity, I want a hot bath and something to eat that didn’t grow out of the ground,” Fedir said as he navigated his way through an exceptionally tall tuft of grass. “I want something baked and smothered in cream. Or a sizzling steak.”
“I’d settle for dry socks and a glass of clean water,” said Silver.
“I’ll take a bed that isn’t a hundred feet up in the air or trying to eat me,” said Bohdan.
The three laughed and continued on with their daydream to-do list. Pastries from King Lors’ bakers. Boots cobbled from the finest craftsmen in Gallimaufria. Soaps that smelled of pine trees and snowdrops.
Swamp toads and mudfrogs hopped out here and there. The puddles were fewer than they had been near the trees, but Bohdan could tell just by looking at them that they were considerably deeper. Surely, he couldn’t cheat drowning a fourth time.
The haze overhead felt as if the clouds had fallen down upon them from the sky. Bohdan kept his eyes on his feet, but even the ground was becoming difficult to see.
“Didn’t your little blonde friend say something about fog, Wastey?”
Bohdan turned back to answer, but within seconds Fedir and Silver vanished into the white cloud. What had Oona said? He tried to pin down his spiraling thoughts, pinging about his mind like the bugs in the swamp. Then the recollection slammed into him with the brute force of a firewind.
And if you get caught in a fog, lay down and be quiet.
“Lay down!” Bohdan whispered. “Right now, in the grass!”
“Lay down?” Silver snapped from behind. “Are you insane? Why would we want to get closer to the water?”
“Just do it!”
Bohdan sprawled himself along the grassy ground. He could feel Fedir’s shoulder or head beneath his boot. They were in a complete, blinding fog. The moist air was tangible, pressing into his eyes, creating an overwhelming blindness.
“Oi can’t see nuffin in this blasted fog!” A man’s voice cried far to their right. It was the same voice who shouted out when Silver and Fedir jumped into the river. Bohdan stiffened.
“Just shut up, Bruckles, and stay in the grass!” came another voice.
“How does we knows the Collectorship was tellin the truth ‘bout the Vodalaiths?”
“Vody Laiths, ya great oaf. And I’ll tell you how we know…because she won’t come nowhere near the salt-marsh and nothing scares her Collectorship.”
The water in the puddle beside Bohdan trembled. He swallowed.
“Then let’s don’t an’ say we did! Come on, Mippin, Holesy said they turn a man to ribbons! Stuff what’s left of you in a meat locker ‘til they’re ready to eat you.”
“Holesy still needs lullabies sung to him to get him to sleep at night. And if you think I plan on telling her Collectorship we were too scared to follow children into the salt-marsh, you’ve got another thing coming, Bruckles.”
Again the water sloshed. But this time, a squelching filled the air. The unnerving suctioning of something emerging from the puddles. Bohdan wanted to scream, but slid a hand silently over his mouth.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Bohdan forced himself to stop counting after ten. His lungs strained against the portioned breaths, panic begging him to take a full inhale, but he wouldn’t risk making a single sound. Water splashed up into his face from the puddle, and despite the blinding white of the fog, he could sense something towering over him.
“What’s that noise?” The man Bruckles whispered hoarsely. He couldn’t be more than a foot or two away from where Bohdan lay sprawled in the grass.
“Come now. Is Big Bruckles scared of a little fog?”
“Oi ain’t afraid of nuffin, Mippin,” Bruckles boomed back. “And oi—”
But he didn’t continue. The last sound of his voice rang out through the foggy air. A long, unending note.
“Very funny,” Mippin laughed, but no answer came. “Alright now, ya big oaf. Enough of that now.”
Bohdan strained his eyes, willing himself to see, but it was no use. He could hear Mippin tumbling through the grass, getting closer to them with every step. But the brute must have stepped into a puddle, because there was a great splash followed by a scream that would haunt Bohdan for the rest of his days.
Slowly, the fog receded, and as it did the outline of humanoid creature lurked above him. Fear, as sour and savage as the Collector’s breath flooded Bohdan’s entire being. The Vody Laith’s skin was sickly gray and as smooth as a lizard’s belly. Its overlong limbs and fingers were the stuff of nightmares, and its long, slender head came to various points like the mangled roots of a tree.
Inch by inch it disappeared back into the puddle as the fog vanished. Bohdan held his breath until, at last, the Vody Laith’s eyeless face sank below the watery surface.
Thanks for reading along! Tune in next week for another installment of Bohdan Dune and the Perilum Tales.
“We Wait on the Wind”
-Periwinkle Twist