Roll With It Short Stories

Day Three

Prompt 12: An Icy Swamp

Word Count 6: 600

"Stay away from the edge." The Captain called from his cabin, he stood there until Lynn pulled herself off the railing. Lynn rubbed her arms, even with a binder and several layers of clothes she was freezing, worse than that she was bored. The initial tension of having to cross Nebulous' Swamp had quickly passed, despite it's harrowing reputation. Lynn was unimpressed, there were streets back home more dangerous than this. She sighed, moving to the font of the boat to watch the men crack and steer ice flows away from them. There were men at every corner of the ship who stood with rifles, waiting for the swamp's inhabitants to make their grievances known. Lynn hadn't seen a bush move.

The swamp was beautiful, however, everything from tree to reed was ever winter, ever in bloom. If it wasn't freezing and filled with monsters, Lynn could see it as popular destination. The water took on a lavender hue in certain lights that she found mesmerizing and a welcome relief against all the blaring white. "How much longer, Captain?" Lynn asked watching the scales of ice on the water rise and break apart from the boat's disturbance.

"I said get away from the edge girl! I don't care how good your money is, if I show up to port with blood on my boat it won't do me any good." Lynn pulled away again.

"Well?" She pressed.

"Should be there by dawn, so long as it doesn't freeze too badly." The Captain answered, eyes always darting. Lynn found a chair to slump over in the curtained area of the boat where she slept. She reviewed her tickets, 2 day passes for The Lance, to take her up the Swamp to Ciro. The only way to reach the capital cities was by boat and if it weren't for the sensitive documents Lynn had hidden in her luggage she would have taken the far warmer steamers available on the southern side of the islands. There was weeks to spare before the Senate made it's decision and once she delivered these papers nothing would happen immediately, but she still willed the giant paddles of the boat to turn faster.

They neared the narrowest part of the river and still they had seen nothing of interest. Lynn kept her eyes peeled as the men urged her but her expression was flat. One of the men, Dizzy they called him, pointed. "You see those, they're blood blossoms." The red blooms hung on long vines from the trees, they were pink translucent bulbs with bright red veins as big as her head. "Get caught in those and they'll drain you dry, they release a sweet smell these critters can't resist." Lynn crinkled her lips and the man laughed. "When they catch something the vines shake, seconds later blood fills the sacs up like red balloons."

The next morning she awoke to a dense fog, thin ice coated everything. She stepped carefully on the slick surface and was startled when the man Dizzy was suddenly before her. He put a finger to his lips, his brows covered in frost. The men huddled in the center of the boat, clutching their weapons. All was silent save for a long metal groan. She nearly screamed as the boat began to bob. The sight of red balloons penetrated the fog. The vines tugged like stings, pulled branches into the water from both sides of the river as if they were caught on something. They sailed to port through a long trail of red ice hours later.