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“No!” cried Ivy. An idea sparked in her mind and she quickly wrapped a bit of cloth,
soaked in oil, about the tip of an arrow, then lit it with the lantern. She knocked the arrow, pulled back and let fly with a prayer to the goddess on her lips. “Oh Goddess, if ever you were with us, let this needle prick the demon and release my love!”
The arrow flew true and hit the old one in the eye. It cried out like a tidal roar and let Ghul Lykos drop back into the river.
Bizarre gelatinous gore leaked down the old ones face and the smoky arrow still steamed from the socket. The monster while not defeated entire, slunk back down into the water and disappeared.
Daemona looked in her satchel for Harlin again. He was still there looking as miserable as ever.
“We’ll get you taken care of, soon as I can.”
“Ribbit.”
Ghul Lykos climbed back aboard in his human form. “Let’s get out of here before it
recovers.”
“Yes, sir, cap’n,” said Miniver, finally recovering somewhat from his paralyzing fear.
“That didn’t kill it?” asked Ivy.
Ghul Lykos shook his head. “Not by a long shot, but it might have just been enough for us to get away.”
Chapter 12.
The river grew wide but retained a dark loathsome appearance, and the clouds of biting insects were especially bad. Islands no bigger than the skiff, and clustered with mangrove and cypress trees, dotted the river; but these were home to nothing larger than a lizard or a bird, so they looked to be of no real danger. Sometimes Miniver had to work hard to avoid dead trees and other debris in the river, but otherwise the journey was rather uneventful.
“How much farther do you think?” asked Daemona.
“Not more than an hour or two,” answered Miniver.
“That’s what you said two hours ago.”
“Trust me, this is a shortcut.”
“We’re close,” said Ghul Lykos. “I recognize this part of the river.”
It was a very wide spot where they could hardly see the banks on either shore, not just because of the mist but also the distance.
They sailed on for another dingy grey day until finally the river started to coalesce back into a swamp and they espied a curious feature looming out of the mist. A lonely tower stood, leaning crookedly and surrounded by masses of jumbled stone blocks. Around about the tower was a moat of dead space, and then stairs spiraling around back into the tower in the center. The ruin seemed to go on for miles. It gaped on the Swamp like a festering scab.
“This must be the place the bards spoke of,” said Ghul Lykos.
“We’re here to cure Harlin on the word of what some lousy bards sang about once?” snapped Daemona.
“I was a bard once,” said Miniver.
“Shut up!” snapped Daemona.
Ghul Lykos bristled. “They were trustworthy, and I only ever said it was a chance. And as much I feel for getting Harlin healed, he still comes second to the mission. I’ve lost more than you know to Ghul Tark. I won’t lose any more.”
“Easy,” soothed Ivy. “Let’s look around first, huh?”
From where they stood, the edges of tumbled black stone turned up slightly, but water found a way through and cascaded into the abyss. When they looked over the edge they could see no bottom, but there were stairs spiraling down into the dark.
“I’m not going down there,” said Miniver.
“Nobody asked you to,” snapped Daemona, “but if there is a chance of getting answers, I’ll go by myself if I have to.”
