Mara’s eyes flit around, a tingling sensation sliding down her spine. She clenches her fists, recognizing the feeling.

Someone – something – is watching them.

The guards move closer to Mara, Codi, and Kimala, circling them in a triangular fashion with two guards bringing up the back and one leading. “Is something wrong, Rick?” Kimala asks the one in front.

“We’re being watched,” Mara responds in a hushed voice, and Kimala raises an eyebrow at her.

“You have a good intuition, Tein’stra Danarko,” Rick acknowledges, not taking his eyes off the pathway.

Mara scans the forest. The twisted trees and branches droop in a distinct pattern as if something heavy had been thrown on them, bending them out of shape… but not breaking them. A dark, inky puddle stands out against the pale bark of a gnarly tree.

Mara’s gaze sharpens, catching movement in the corner of her eye. There’s nothing there…

“What?” Codi asks, glancing in the direction Mara is looking.

“… Just my imagination.”

“We need to be out of the Heramus before nightfall,” Beral, one of the guards behind them, rumbles quietly. Mara and Codi nod, agreeing with the guard.

As they continue deeper in, more inky puddles appear. Kimala keeps acting like Miss Know-It-All who cannot be touched, striding along the path with her head held high while Codi walks alongside Rick in the front. Mara keeps catching movement in her peripheral vision; finally, she turns to look directly at a puddle not even six feet away.

Ripples spread across the plate-sized inky spot.

A chill runs up her spine, colder than all the other ones. It isn’t her imagination. “Mister Beral.”

The short, stocky man pauses next to her. “Yes, tein’stra?”

“The puddle – something moved in it.”

Beral glances at it. “That is a Hemius puddle.”

Mara frowns as they continue walking. Is it normal for things to move in the Hemius puddles?

Unnoticed by the group, little finger-like nodes rise out of the murky liquid, bobbing and swaying. They watch the group continue down the pathway.

Hours pass by. They take a break for lunch, sitting in the middle of the path and munching on the sandwiches the kitchen staff had provided. Mara glances around and notices a puddle a little bigger than the other ones – nearly the size of her backpack, ironically enough.

“What’s so significant about running across a big puddle?” Mara asks, balling up the paper from her sandwich.

Codi’s face is grim. “The bigger the puddle, the braver it is.”

“It may even reach out and grab you,” Kimala informs her while putting up the rest of the food. “Especially if you’re too close to it.”

“What are these, children’s bed stories to keep you from wandering into the forest?” Mara sniggers, unable to keep a straight face. This sounds more like a made-up story to keep kids from playing in the woods than actual facts. “Seriously, what’s so terrible about this place?”

Codi, Kimala, and the guards stare at Mara. “The Hemius,” they chorus.

Just a few puddles in a dead swamp? It’s hard to believe something so inconspicuous can be so feared… “What’s so dangerous about this Hemius stuff?” she asks, twisting the sandwich paper in her hand.

“This area stretches for miles,” Kimala berates, her blue eyes flashing with a strange anger. “Those ‘puddles’ contain a liquid that slowly kills you from inside. It has been around for a thousand and seven hundred years, yet we still don’t know how to cure it.”

Mara’s hands drop to her sides. I’ve never seen her this angry. What happened for her to react this way over it? “I… didn’t know that.”

Codi’s jaw clenches; his voice is unusually low and quiet. “Don’t take this world lightly, Mara. It’s not like Earth; there are plenty of things here that would have fun torturing or killing you. Hemius is alive – it can come out of its puddle and latch onto you like a leech. But as soon as it touches you, it spreads like water. It will infect every cell of your body until you die.” Codi takes the balled-up paper out of Mara’s hand and tosses it at one of the puddles. The ball makes an indent on the thick surface. “It’s not something to brush off.”

The surrounding liquid rises up like fingers and encases the paper, dragging it down.

Mara stares at the puddle, her face pale as the thick liquid shifts and churns over its meal. An air pocket breaks the surface, almost like a quiet burp. “I’m sorry… You’re right.”

“We just don’t want you to get killed out here,” Codi says as he stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder.

Mara keeps a closer eye on the deadly puddles as they walk down the rock-strewn dirt pathway. It is hard to believe those innocuous puddles can be so deadly, but after seeing one of them eat her paper wrapping, she determines it is best to avoid testing that theory.

She catches more movement as they head deeper into the woods. As they walk around a bend with a particularly thick section of trees, Mara glances to the side. Concerned, she says, “It’s getting more act – ”

Beral clamps his hand over her mouth, pulling her head around to face forward.

A huge puddle of the thick, viscous liquid lies ahead. Purples and reds swirl on top of the black surface, giving it an oily sheen. The colors shift in gentle arcs, although nothing stirs the shallow-looking liquid. It spans just a little over five feet in length and three feet in width – and it is perfectly perpendicular to the right of the trail.

Kimala stands just behind Rick, looking tall and regal – but her balled fists tremble. She’s putting on an act, Mara realizes, narrowing her eyes as she stares at the pond-sized amount of Hemius. She must be really scared for that thing to affect her this much.

“How did a big puddle like that end up at the border?” Kimala’s voice is steady and assertive, not revealing a hint of her fear.

“I don’t know, but we need to figure out a way around without alerting it,” Rick says quietly, eyeing the pathway suspiciously strewn with rocks and pebbles. “It has set a trap for its prey… let us hope it remains ignorant to our presence.”

Mara frowns. “It doesn’t know we’re here?”

Kimala shakes her head. “It can’t see; it hunts through sound and vibrations in the ground.” She jerks her chin at the calm swirls. “Nothing is coming out, so it must be inactive. We have a chance of slipping by it.”

“Tein’stra Codi, shall we go first?” Rick volunteers, glancing at the black-haired youth. Codi nods.

Mara glances over and notices the two-yard gap between the farthest edge of the road and the puddle. “That’s not enough space?”

“It can grab you,” Kimala, Don, and Beral hiss.

“All right, I got it.” Mara snatches Kimala’s wrist, tugging the girl next to her. “Kimala, stay with me.”

Kimala yanks her hand back, scowling at Mara. “Don’t grab me like that.”

Everyone’s eyes are on the Hemius as Rick and Codi creep around it with as much distance between them and the pond. It doesn’t move at all. They make it to the other side and ease away from the inky pool. Codi waves to Mara and Kimala.

They both glance across the twenty or so yards between them and Codi. This is going to be tricky, Mara grumbles to herself as she turns back to Kimala. “Roll your foot to reduce impact and noise,” Mara advises.

Kimala rolls her eyes and stalks after Beral, her head held high. If she doesn’t lower that big head of hers, she’s going to trip, Mara thinks, exasperated. She’s not used to my boots.

Kimala stumbles on a stray rock, falling to her knees.

“Thought so,” Mara mutters as Beral whirls around and helps Kimala up. Mara catches movement in the pond; eyebrows snapping together, she stares at the rippling surface. Something rises from it – no, that isn’t right. The liquid rises in the shape of a node. A very large node.

Don darts to Kimala and Beral, pulling out his sword and yelling, “Run! It’s alert!”

Mara stares after her guard. The thing hadn’t even moved much –

The node splits into four tentacles.

“Hey, over here!” Don yells, his voice quivering. All four of the tentacles point at him as Beral helps Kimala limp away.

Dread sinks into Mara, recognizing that type of limp. A twisted ankle. They won’t make it in time. She rushes in, slipping her backpack off and holding it in her hand to prepare herself for a fight.

The tendrils focusing on Don streak in, almost too fast to see. One wraps around his sword arm, and he shrieks in agony. Another wraps around his throat.

His scream turns into a wet gurgle.

The two remaining tendrils take their time, turning into two sharp points and pressing gently into the man’s torso. He jerks and thrashes, still alive.

Mara’s hand claps over her mouth in horror, bile rising to the back of her throat.

Beral pushes the shocked Kimala toward Codi and Rick. He draws his sword, trembling. Seeing Mara, he jerks his head soundlessly to Kimala.

Getting the idea, Mara quickly and silently sneaks by the now dead Don and yanks Kimala’s right arm over her shoulder. Keeping herself between the pond and the injured girl, Mara does her best to help her cousin across the rock-strewn path as Beral shouts at the tendrils.

I guess it’s done with its first meal, Mara thinks sickeningly. She doesn’t want to look back, but she needs to know.

Don is now being dragged into the puddle, armor and all. Only two tendrils lazily slap at Beral’s sword, toying with him as if it has all the time in the world.

“What happened to your ankle?” she asks Kimala in a low voice.

“Sprained it.” Kimala grimaces, her eyes hazy. “I can heal it, but… need to be sitting.”

Mara shifts her bag in her hand, bending over and flicking out one of her daggers. She transfers it into her empty left hand still wrapped around her cousin’s small waist.

Plop.

Ahead of her, Rick and Codi cringe just as Beral shrieks. Whipping her head around, she sees him being lowered into the pond by several different strands. There is no sight of Don.

Swallowing bile, Mara drags Kimala noisily along the pathway.

“What are you doing?” Kimala hisses, staggering beside Mara. “You’re making too much noise!”

“You need to get out of here.” Ten feet left, Mara calculates, using Codi’s and Rick’s expressions to determine what is happening behind her. Eight feet…

Their eyes widen in horror.