By morning, the storm had ceased, and all was quiet. 

Piyar had rested well and was grazing by the forest’s edge, loosely tied to a tree with a rope. 

A layer of mist lay low on the fields ahead, and the black hills in the east stood out against the red and orange of the still invisible sun. 

Both minds were still busy with the stories of last night and the new worries they had brought with them. But those worries were no reason to abandon the plan. 

On the contrary: the need for movement was now bigger than before. And so, they went on earlier than the days prior. Partly because of their haste, but also because they had barely slept and wanted to get moving to escape the cold.

'We should be able to cross the river by tonight,' Yorell said, 'the bridge should be less than 50 kilometres away.' 

Ma'an looked out over the land again, but now he could look no further than about thirty metres before the ground disappeared into the fog. 

He then looked back at the road going into the dark forest. All was obscured there, and anything could be making its way towards them.

'We shouldn't follow the road if we want to stay hidden,' he eventually said.

'We have to. The swamp is close to unnavigable. Even if we manage, we still need the bridge.'

'Then we'll have to be prepared for company sooner or later.'

'Are we?' Yorell asked. 

Both thought for a moment.

'... I think we'll manage,' Ma'an then said quietly. 

The uncertainty gnawed on him. 

In Peijh, he usually knew what to expect of pursuers, and now all was a mystery. On top of that, there still had not been a concrete sign of them. 

Luckily for Ma'an, it would not take long for the first signs to make themselves clear. 

On the elevated road of the swamp, they were vulnerable, and many eyes could see them as black silhouettes against the red sky of dawn. 

The lands beside them were not visible, but every now and then ice cracked, or bushes rustled. 

The wizards walked beside Piyar. Both to prevent her from being fatigued needlessly and to keep themselves warm. 

They went forward at a quick pace. 

Two hours went by, and the fog had become so thick that they could not see anything around them except a couple metres of stones on all sides. 

But while their vision failed them, sound was plenty: screeching birds overhead, bubbling and splashing of water, cracking of stone and branch, and many sounds unexplainable. 

The most concerning was a yell. 

A human yell far off in the south behind them. 

It seemed to call for someone, but no words could be made out. 

Both wizards stopped in their tracks, even Piyar raised her head and stood still as a statue. 

They peered in the distance, but nothing else could be heard. 

‘I may be imagining things, but I could have sworn I recognised that sound,’ Yorell said.

‘It’s probably your mind playing tricks. Try not to worry about it, that’ll only make it worse.’ Ma’an tried to reassure him. 

They reluctantly went on, wondering what may be creeping up behind them. 

Noon passed, and they took no breaks. 

They were occasionally startled by vague shouts, but neither were sure whether they actually heard them or had imagined them. 

Yorell looked back often, while Ma’an preferred to keep his eyes in front and focus on his steps. 

'...!' Yorell suddenly halted and spoke softly, but it was loud in the silence: ‘I hear hooves.’ 

They all stood listening, and indeed, remote, hurrying horses were getting ever closer. 

Ma’an quickly scanned his surroundings as well as he could, and noticed an irregularity in the road, about twenty metres off. He walked up to it and noticed it was a flight of stairs of the same solid stone as the road. 

It went down into the swamp.

‘Come, Yorell. Let’s take a break down here,’ he said calmly. 

Yorell quickly followed, taking Piyar by the reins. The steps were broad, making it possible for Piyar to descend them. 

Ma’an went in front, and determinedly set foot on the spongy grass. 

The plants here were mostly barren, but the grass was a dark green. Muddy pools were everywhere, but most were covered with ice, so it was not difficult to keep their feet dry. 

The snow here was almost fully melted. 

To their left was the overpass, and as Ma’an had guessed; it was not a solid block but was elevated by arches which provided shelter from anything travelling above. It also acted like a viaduct protecting passengers from the soggy ground below.

Ma’an thus led Piyar and Yorell underneath the road. They could see little of what was hiding in those shadows, as even here the fog lay thick. And yet nothing seemed to await them there. 

Yorell leaned against one of the pillars and listened carefully. 

Ma’an approached him with some water. ‘Drink something,’ he said, ‘it’s probably just other travellers.’ 

Yorell nodded and took the water, but he did not relax. 

The hooves were now quite clear. 

There were multiple horses galloping. They grew louder and louder, until they stopped. 

Something was said, something Ma’an could not understand, but he knew why that was. 

Yorell tensed up at the words and pressed himself harder against the stone. 

More voices followed. 

To the wizards’ dismay, Piyar suddenly snorted. 

'...?!'

A silence followed, broken only seconds later by people dismounting their horses. 

Ma’an felt his heart pounding, but knew they were not here for him, so managed to keep himself together. 

Someone came down the stairs. Heavy boots on the stone. 

Ma’an sighed and closed his eyes. 

‘Ngat iko ye,’ was clearly said. The voice pierced the mist and made him flinch. 

The boots halted and said something to the ones above. They exchanged loud words, disagreeing on something, but eventually the feet turned around and made their way back onto the road. 

After rustling of gear and belts, the horses started moving again, and gradually sped up as they got further away.

Ma’an took Yorell by the hand and brought him back out from under the arch, taking slow steps so as not to make any sound. 

Yorell was like a doll behind Ma’an, following reluctantly but stunned by fear. He was made to sit on the stairs and have more water. 

Ma’an took a couple more steps onto the soggy grass and peered into the distance. 

Ghosts of riders could be seen disappearing into the north. No number could be made out. 

Taking another step back to follow them with his gaze, his foot sank into the mud. 

'...!' Yorell’s senses came back to him when he heard Ma’an shriek. 

The younger cursed in an unknown tongue and pulled his foot out of the mud, a slimy goop around his ankle. 

‘Yorell! What is this!?’ he said with wide eyes. 

Without thinking, he pulled onto the slippery thing on his leg, which had somehow already crept partly into the leg of his trousers and pulled onto it.

‘Ma’an, don't—’ 

The slimy thing came loose, and the wizard stood with a squirming, black leech in his hand. 

It was over thirty centimetres long and as thick as his arm. Its jaws convulsed strangely and tried to get their teeth into Ma’an’s forearm. 

'...?!'

He threw the thing as far as he could. 

About ten metres away, it hit the ice with a dull slap. 

Blood was gushing down Ma’an’s leg, but he paid no attention to it, and instead looked in disgust at his slime covered hands. 

Yorell quickly came to him, crouched, and pulled up the leg of his trousers. The leech’s teeth had sunk deep into his leg and the pulling had left nasty marks.

‘Let’s stay away from the water,’ Yorell said. 

He pulled the confused wizard back to Piyar and bound the wound tightly after cleaning it with some of their drinking water. 

Meanwhile, Ma’an cleaned his hands with one of their cloths.

‘We call them yuodau. They can suck all the blood out of you if they’re big.’

‘You mean they get bigger!?’ The shock in Ma’an’s voice thawed Yorell’s muscles, and his stern frown was replaced by a grin.

‘Much bigger. They live deeper in the swamp, though, and they feed on creatures way bigger than us,’ he said, ‘but they aren’t venomous or anything, so you’re good to go now. Do you feel alright?’ 

Ma’an shuddered at the thought of even more awful worms slithering in the deep pools. It dissolved the possibility of them continuing beside the road for a couple of kilometres, something he had considered when he had seen Yorell’s fear.

‘Awful… But yes, I am alright,’ Ma’an said, but he could not keep in the chuckle.

His leg was all fixed-up, the pain had eased, and he had recovered from the scare.

‘Is the water of the Barlmay clean enough to wash some clothes in, you think?’ he asked.

‘Not quite. It has been polluted a lot the past years, but I’m sure we’ll find a clean stream to do our laundry in once we are in the fields, don’t worry,’ Yorell said, and his thoughts moved to summers in green meadows and clear creeks meandering towards the far sea.

‘What did those people say, Yorell?’ Ma’an took him out of the comforting place, but he did not mind the voice.

‘They spoke Kosocian, as you must have guessed. They are looking for me, I’m assuming they are scouts from the government based on their dialect, not mercenaries out to take the reward for my dead body. That is a relief, though they seemed determined to complete their errand. They would have caught me if it weren't for their fear of this swamp,’ he said. His fear had subsided and was now no more than deep anxiety for the future.

‘Right. It reassures me that we now know part of our danger and that we are not fleeing from shadows. We need to be very careful. But this swamp: how are we going to get out of it now that our pursuers are up ahead?’ Ma’an asked.

‘I propose we load as much of our baggage off of Piyar as we can, and we leave behind whatever we cannot carry. We should be ready to leave her behind whenever we need to. She offers speed, but that will not help us now. Do you agree?’

‘I do. I do not intend to fight until I have no other choice. I believe we both wish to leave that behind – that is why we are on this road. Until then, I will take toxic pools, rotten trees, or cold snow to hide in over more blood on my hands. But we will see where time brings us.’

‘We will indeed,’ Yorell said, and he thought of all the things that could come. 

He did not think they could hide forever, and he feared that eventually they would need to resort to violence, but they would postpone that for as long as possible.

‘Do you ought it likely that they are still catching up behind us? If so, we should consider our timing and speed well.’ Yorell sighed and laid his head against Piyar’s neck. ‘... We are practically trapped. It was foolish of me to join you, Ma’an. I have put you in great danger.’ He sounded defeated. 

Ma’an could not help but chuckle: ‘I have been in far greater danger, my dear. Do not worry about me. Having company for the first time in years is so valuable to me that the risk that comes with it seems like nothing. We will find a way together, I promise.’ 

Yorell looked at him with wonder. 

‘Thank you. Thank you for this opportunity. I will prove myself useful to you, I promise.’