These Old Bones

16-1

16

With great care, Brorzjav backed away, on all fours. He took a good look around and saw many more patches of the fungi, littered around the bowl in the landscape as the fog drifted, opening up avenues of sight and then closing again. His hand tapped something solid beside him, and he grasped the shaft of Tiera's spear. He looked over his shoulder and saw the steep banking of the bowl heading up into the thicker fog.

"Girl? Tiera?" He called out into the murky surroundings, narrowing his eyes.

"Here! We're here!" Tiera's voice echoed back to him through the fog, sounding as if it came from far away, but that couldn't be possible. The fog distorted everything.

"Don't move! I'll find you. There's fungi everywhere." Rising to his feet, he stopped, looking around. "Don't touch anything and don't move. I'm coming for you."

Somehow he had managed to keep hold of Notch and not managed to cleave himself with the ancient, magical sword. He had an idea. Pulling his cloak around, he cut into it then ripped a long length, about three inches wide, from the bottom edge. Dipping the strip in the dank water at his feet, he tied it around his head, covering his mouth and nose.

He didn't know if that would stop any spores, but he had used something similar in war, staving off smoke-filled lungs while amidst burning buildings. He performed the action twice more and wrapped the pieces around his off-hand. The girl and Tiera would need masks, too, if only he could find them.

"Grey! There's something moving in the fog!" Again, Tiera's voice fumbled and meandered through the dampness of the creeping fog and he tried to gauge where the voice came from.

"Just stay still! Keep talking, loud!" He turned in the direction he thought the voice sounded from and began to move. Slow. Steady. Careful.

A pop and a hiss caught his ears and his head whipped around towards that sound. A short distance away, revealed by a gap forming in the fog, he saw a larger mound of fungus. Atop the mound, a growth that looked like the fluted end of a trumpet stood upright. Another pop and a hiss and he watched as the trumpet released a great burst of fog, rising up to mingle with the twisting, clutching fog already there. A way for the fungus to lure creatures to become Spore Bearers? Brorzjav didn't care. He only cared about getting the girl, Tiera and himself out of there.

"Old man? I'm sorry." The girl's voice, sounding like a whisper. "I shouldn't have tried to run. I was scared."

"We all get scared, lass." He stopped moving, his foot held in the air, inches from a purple and orange fungus ball. He put his foot to the side, then took a long step over. "It's what we do about being scared that makes the difference 'tween bravery and cowardice."

It was a stupid time to start lecturing the girl, but he needed to keep talking. To reassure them both, and himself. If that meant he tried to impart wisdom from his many decades, then that's what he would do. He looked to his left, but the banking of the dip had disappeared from his sight, enveloped by fungus created fog.

Another pop and a hiss. Another of those trumpet-like spouts, spitting condensed water into the air. He didn't know if the fog contained spores. If it did, all this would be for nothing. The spores would already have found their way inside their lungs, growing and beginning to take over their bodies. He didn't feel any different, but then, he didn't know what it would feel like, taken over by spores.

"There's definitely something moving in the fog, Grey. I can hear it." He could imagine Tiera pushing the girl behind her and gripping her sword. A few more years, she'd be a better fighter than him, most like. If they got out of this alive.