Page 71 of On Broken Bonds

“So, we need a plan,” I say, turning away from the knights and honing in on Fenric and Thorian. My heart pounds for the men in the water, but I do my best to focus on our team.

The Hollow Blades, the four armored knights, are already testing the swamp. Beyond them, I catch glimpses of the vampire team lingering at the tree line and the warlocks watching from farther back, each group waiting to see what happens.

Maybe, if the Hollow Blades make it across in one piece, we'll be able to do the same ourselves.

But what's more likely is a swath of beasts, perhaps water or swamp versions of what we saw before, will come out and swallow them whole. I think of large, slimy alligators, electric bone eels, fish with huge, gaping maws that could scoop you inside and drag you beneath the moss and brackish water.

Fenric suddenly squints out over the swamp.

"Uh... were those there before?"

All three of us turn.

At first, I don't see what he's talking about. Then something breaks the surface of the water.

A rock.

Then another.

Then another.

Across the swamp, small stone platforms slowly rise from beneath the murky water. Some are only large enough for a single person to stand on comfortably. Others might fit two or three if they didn't mind being pressed together. Water cascades down their sides as they emerge, sending ripples across the surface.

The entire swamp seems to hold its breath.

"Oh," I say.

The platforms continue appearing farther and farther into the distance, creating a rough path toward the opposite shore.

"Well," Fenric says, "that's suspicious."

"Everything here is suspicious."

"Fair point."

Thorian leans closer to us and speaks more quietly. “The platforms are the route. The gods waited until everyone gathered here before revealing them.”

I study the stones more closely. The problem becomes obvious almost immediately.

"They're too far apart."

Thorian nods.

Some of the platforms are only a few feet from each other. Others are separated by stretches of water long enough that no one could simply step across.

To reach the next stone, we'd have to wade through the water. Sometimes it’s only a short distance. Sometimes it’s a longer distance. Either way, we'd be entering the swamp if we have any chance of getting to the other side.

“Which means we're still getting wet,” Fenric says.

Thorian doesn’t look happy. “Unfortunately.”

“That's not exactly reassuring.”

“No.”

I follow the line of platforms with my gaze. They zigzag through the swamp, disappearing into patches of fog before reappearing farther out. Several tilt slightly to one side. Others look slick with algae.

“Even if the water doesn't kill us,” I say, “it would be easy to slip.”