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and her sword was never far from her hand. Before the second shriek
came, she was out of her tent and into the thick of battle. Her sword was
swinging before she had a clear view of what she battled.
Had she delayed a moment, she might well have lost her courage, for
the first fire-silhouetted view of her opponent caused her sword to falter
momentarily.
Was it man or beast? Donya could not be sure. The creature walked on
two legs like a man, but was bent and stooped rather than upright, its
elongated upper limbs nearly brushing the ground. Fur half covered it in
patchy mats, and its stubby fingers, flashing with amazing speed in battle,
sported long and deadly claws. Its wolflike head had a shortness that made
it look more human, but the muzzle contained a wolfs sharp and lethal
teeth.
Its teeth were stained with human blood.
Her warrior's discipline did not fail her. In the heat of battle, fear and
pain took their accustomed places at the back of her mind; her sword
moved as a limb of her body, quicker than her thought. There could be no
hesitation; she was a sword, bright and sharp, which only just happened
to have at one end of it a fleshy form.
The creature howled again and leaped; Donya dropped to one knee,
twisting rapidly as she did so, and the sword flashed in the firelight. The
howl was cut off midway, and the wolf-thing fell past her, blood spraying
from its nearly severed throat.
No time to think, no time to fear.
Donya swallowed, stood, and hastened toward the battle.
SIX
"You can't possibly be serious," Shadow said, staring.
The vast expanse of the Brightwater, brown-gray with mud and swollen
with spring floods, lay before them.
"You cannot be serious," Shadow repeated.
"Not here," Blade said impatiently. "The road follows the river north.
There is a better place there. I would think you would be glad to leave the
swamp."
"I am," Shadow said with feeling. Just the sight of blue sky, the smell of
fresh air, and the sound of living things cheered her, although they would
not actually be out of the Reaches for some hours.
They had left the shelter at the first hint of light two days ago, Blade
seeming as anxious as Shadow to be quit of the place. Since then they had
ridden as quickly as the weather and the trail would allow.
After her experience with Spirit Lake, Shadow soon came to a grudging
appreciation of the swamp. It teemed with life, boiled over with living
things in a way that even the forest never did. There were creatures living
there the like of which Shadow had never seen before.
There were also more of the strange shelters along the road at irregular
intervals sometimes in groups, sometimes alone. The shelters became
more frequent as the women left the area of Spirit Lake, and were
welcome dry spots in the overfull marshes.
Blade knew at least as many things that could be picked, peeled, or dug
up in the swamp as Shadow did in the forest, and every evening when they
camped there would be fresh game of some sort or another fish, eels, the
odd marshconey, swamp birds, or, to Shadow's utter disgust, snakes. At
least, to her great relief, the demon brought home no giant spiders or the
like.
Also amazing to Shadow was that the Dim Reaches, for all their ill
reputation, could be beautiful. As no further rains soaked the land and the
Brightwater slowly receded, the late-spring sun was having its way with
the plants of the swamp. A profusion of unusual flowers bloomed, colorful
mushrooms some tasty popped up everywhere, and multicolored
lacewings flittered over the green surface of the water.
Still, there was little regret in Shadow's heart when she saw the shining
expanse of the Brightwater ahead of her and contemplated leaving the
swampland behind at last.
"So, I give up, where are we?" Shadow asked, pulling out the map. "I
know we're way west of the forest, but how far?"
"We are here," Blade said, tapping a spot on the map. "Another day to
reach the crossing. Half a day to cross, given the flooding. Three to cross
the plains."
Shadow grinned hugely.
"You were right! We should have five days on Donya and her guard
now, and that's without them being delayed anywhere or following a false
trail, which they've got to do, whichever of those spots they pick first."
Then her grin faded.
"But how did we end up on the wrong side of the Brightwater? I mean,
that swamp was pretty wet, but it wasn't the Brightwater."
"Nor is this," Blade said. "This is merely one of the Brightwater's
tributaries. It flows under the swamp, you see, then comes out again."
"It's not on the map," Shadow frowned.
"Neither was Spirit Lake," Blade shrugged. "No one comes through
here, and no one needs to cross this tributary, so it is not mapped. Any
fool could reason as much."
"Sorry, I'm just a city girl," Shadow shot back. "I don't tend to need
maps. I don't tend to use maps. Or cross rivers, when I can help it."
"Then how have you done so much traveling?" Blade asked.
"Mostly in other people's caravans," Shadow sighed. "Preferably in the
wagon of some well-favored, wealthy fellow with plenty of money and lots
of wine."
"Well, this time you have only Blackfell and me for company," Blade
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