Gradually, slowly, almost cautiously — though like sniffing out new prey, rather than holding back for fear — the marshlight’s truth emerged from the fog. The yellow glow pulsed from the tip of an elongated, flexible tail, held over its head, swaying like a pendulum in time with the beast’s movements. The body followed, dark, long and sinewy, like an eel or a swimming dog. An elongated neck rose high above the water, lined with a ragged mane of mossy weeds, crowned by a grotesque horse-like head, elongated and heavy, with flared nostrils that hissed out fog.

  Wicked tusks curved outwards from its jaws, dripping black water as the fiend tilted its head, regarding us both with one lidless, reflective eye. The light flickered, and the tail whipped forwards slightly and grew so close I could feel an unnatural warmth. Unbidden, I took a step towards the warmth and held out my hands, feeling the cold and bleakness of the swamp recede for a moment.

  But my newly sharpened mind panicked, forced me to bite my lip hard. I tasted blood and the spell didn’t quite take full hold.

  At that, one massive paddle-like paw broke from the surface of the marsh, bringing sharp and long glinting claws. Move! Run! I urged my body, but every signal was ignored.

  The nightmarish creature neared us in haunting silence. The light continued to sway and the lids of my eyes grew suddenly heavy. My arms fell slack at my sides, the spear nearly dropped from my grasp, resting just on fingertips, the point touched the water ahead.

  The marshlight fiend’s maw opened slightly, revealing pointed, needle-like teeth like an angler fish. It had lured its prey, and now the hunt was over. The song continued, haunting, echoing from both the light lure and my own mind, coalescing, reaching new volume and heights, near ear-splitting, but at the same time, somehow not unpleasant.

  Still approaching us gently, I smelt a wave of its corpse breath as fog poured out. Not one yard away.

  Then the song evaporated like someone hit mute. The marshlight fiend LUNGED, its massive clawed paddle-leg sliced through the air. My feet were stuck fast as if glued to the soft ground, I could just barely move my fingers to keep ahold of my spear.

  MOVE!

  My synapses fired like lightning.

  Should I shoulder my shield? Should I make myself a target? Should I get to Lenya? Should I run? Should I analyse it?

  My body was stuck, but I unclouded my mind for enough of an instant to burst [Vigour] out, and with burning pain and reluctant muscles I managed to turn to the side. The claw that was aimed for my jaw and neck instead raked across my shoulder, fiery pain snapping through my numbing haze.

  Blood spattered the swamp water, and I staggered back. I couldn’t check the wound — I kept my eye on the fiend, but I could clench my fist. Pain tugged at my sinews but the strength was there. Immediately, the swaying light moved over my head towards Lenya, the song started up again, but only coming from the fiend, and its attention completely switched.

  It bleeds its prey, waits until they succumb to the marsh — both fisher and hunter. Then I realised the pain and the change in focus had caused the spell to weaken enough to grip my spear with two hands, and I leapt between the fiend and Lenya.

  I shouted behind me through clenched teeth:

  “Lenya, WAKE UP!”

  But her glassy eyes remained fixed on the swaying light.

  The fiend snorted, another gout of fog bursting out and spilling over the ground around our feet, shrouding the place, and it turned its hideous, one-eyed horse-like snout to me again, tusks gleaming. The song burst like sunspots in my mind and waking eyes once more, and I forced all my resilience to stop myself from cradling my head against the noise. Its tail, with that cursed glow, lashing over its back like a scorpion’s stinger and flickered. I felt the warmth again as it passed by a few inches from my face. The enormity of the beast loomed, neck coiling like a serpent preparing to swallow its prey whole.

  [Vigour: Endurance]. I managed to reach again into the dark, gel-like waters in my mind’s eye and returned a sluggish control over my body. I jabbed with my spear, forcing trembling muscles to obey.

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  The blade reached nothing, and my elbow sent a harsh fricting warning. The marshlight demon hissed, deep and guttural, and retaliated with another vicious swipe.

  Its claws met my bare thigh, ripping flesh. I cried out, dropping to one knee in the shallow, black water. As I breathed and blinked away the taunting warmth of the light, it circled like a wolf. My limbs began to sag. It drew closer. At the extent of the swaying, the light was a few yards away from me.

  NO!

  Timing it, I clamped my teeth down hard on the inside of my mouth. Sharp, horrible pain. I spat copper. I had another few moments to move before the light swung back once again, I meant to throw out yet another Skill, but didn’t have the energy. Instead, surging up with a desperate thrust, the bronze spearhead struck true, gouging into the fiend’s wet, grey side.

  It uttered a terrible, otherworldly sound somewhere between gurgling and a dog’s howl, and recoiled. The song stopped immediately.

  It’s not used to pain. It’s overcautious, slow to attack. I tried with stunted faculty to piece together clues that might leave me alive. Glancing back to Lenya, she stood teetering to one side, watching the yellow bait light. Can’t outrun it. Have to wake her up somehow. . . . She’ll thank me for this, I told myself.

  As the fiend shook its head from side to side and tensed up, turning the wound away from me, I stamped two heavy steps back towards Lenya, brought the spear up to my side, and smacked her upper arm HARD with the flat of the blade. The razor-edge cut her robe, but I don’t think it drew blood.

  She fell like a heavy sack onto the ground, but finally I saw her eyes snap out of it, and she winced and held her arm, and looked about her, confused.

  That was the last I saw.

  A massive rush threw me over, forced me down into the muck. A crushing weight bore down on my muck, pinning me beneath the surface, and horror fully took me. The claws of both its front paws dug into my back as it pushed deeper, bubbles of my air escaping into the black marsh, my vision only movement and darkness.

  Water pressed in around me. My nose and cheeks dragged and grazed against sharp stones and bones on the giving, freezing ground beneath the water. Breath forced out of my panicked, tearing lungs, my chest screamed for air. I let go of the haft of my spear and flailed with both hands, trying to gain purchase beneath me to throw the beast off, but my fingers sunk into the bog and I pulled them out, half-stuck.

  “Talbot! Lenya”

  A bellowing shout shattered the rushing bedlam, vibrating through the water. Frantic splashes and heavy footfalls followed, and Alator’s golden light flashed overhead.

  One paw raised from my back, and I redoubled my effort. My fist found hard ground and I pushed with everything I had. Claws rent into my shoulderblades as I squirmed and dragged myself upwards, enough to wrench my head above the surface and gasp.

  Ragged and desperate breaths filled my lungs with wet, foggy, cold air — the most beautiful taste. Scrambling, trying to ignore the pain, I skittered forwards on all fours, making distance, and came up onto a hard, rocky mound.

  Coughing water, vision blurred and spotty, I turned to see Alator’s broad back and shock of wet red hair between me and the fiend. His hands were locked around the thing’s neck, his back already lined with gashes and pouring red into the swamp.

  I dragged myself to my feet and found Lenya in the dark. She was trembling, eyes wild and frightened. With both hands I grabbed the collar of her robe and pulled her up. Her knees gave for a moment but she stood. One side of her robes were torn, blood-soaked, and she rested heavily on one leg.

  The fiend was leading her around until she succumbed.

  “What’s happening?” she spluttered, mouth hoarse. “I was asleep and then . . .”

  “We’ll deal with that later,” I barked. I grabbed the Analysis Card and spun myself around.

  “Can you stop it moving for a second?”

  She leant on her staff, wincing, and gasped breaths.

  “Something that big?” she shook her head.

  “Can you cut the tail?”

  “[Rend]? I was taught not to. . . .”

  “Lenya!”

  “I— I’ll try.”

  She cried in pain as she brought her weight from her staff and held the polished black pine before her, and she began her incantation between shaking, pained inhales. The faint breeze of magic picked up, bundles of wet moss began to shudder and the tall reeds bent towards her.

  Bursting [Vigour: Endurance] again through my tendons, I felt my bones lighten, and the heavy, cold pain from the crab pincer wound on my shin abate. The pain in my shoulder numbed, my frozen and torn lungs begged me for respite, but I stomped over the marsh towards the fray.