The Names Our Children Will Know

Tessa's Fight - Draft One

Once he saw the plague victims' interest in them fade, Mark told them to start walking. Tessa and Ghost had crossed the river and vanished into the dead forest of petrified wood, taunting the plague victims into chasing after them.

At first they talked. Jordan wanted to know how the trees turned to stone around them. Surprisingly, it was Wesson who explained.

"This is the Karyot still, remember? The water down here got so polluted that it poisoned the trees from all the residue in the water. Turned them right to stone. I was one of the people funding the clean-up until I heard about this spellbook and my daughter got the plague. Some people say this river was cursed by one of the ancient wizards. That is why it will never be clean again, but this is actually a vast improvement on the last time I saw it."

Jordan stared into the torpid, dull water and decided firmly that she would never go swimming in it, no matter how much cleaner the water was. Mud swirled in spiralling patterns, undisturbed by insects or river life. The river seemed unending. The would never stop walking.

Soon, however, Mark could see that Jordan and Wesson were feeling the effects of their terror-filled night taking hold. Jordan's eyes lost the light of curiosity. Wesson looked strained and tired. He wasn't even bothering to pick up his feet as he walked. Instead, the dust he stirred up hung around him in a thick cloud. Mark almost felt sorry for him–Wesson must have expected the quest to be over a week and a half after it started.

But Jordan was a different story. Mark hadn't resisted when she had grabbed his hand as Tessa and Ghost crossed the river. Her face was scrunched up in worry and concentration now. She stared intently at the point where she had last seen Tessa, searching for any sign of movement.

The trees were thicker here. The petrified wood was grey and pitted, like the fallen pillars of a great castle. Mark remembered stories of men and women with god-like powers that had governed the three races below in a castle made of clouds.

Looks like the floating palace fell, Mark thought dryly. Dead wood; dead water. Dead land.

They kept walking. There was still no sign of Tessa an hour later, when they came to a bend in the river where it looped back on itself, forming the border to Howling Beach. The desolate land was empty here, as well. Sand was built up in hills across the river, they could see. There were tall outcroppings of stone in the hills, but somehow even the sandstone formations looked unfriendly. Mark almost wanted to face the plague victims on this side of the river that were still cheerfully ripping each other apart than face the unnamed foreboding that lurked on the Howling Beach.

They crossed the river anyway. The water was cold and thick with mud at the bottom. It was like walking through honey. Jordan shuddered at the frigid grasp of the sludge.

They were halfway across when Mark felt the tug of the current pick up. He quickly fought his way across, but the opposite bank was too steep for him to climb. Even as tall as he was, he couldn't get the leverage he needed to make it to the top. He scrabbled hopelessly at the edge like a bug trapped in a glass, but the two packs on his back dragged him down again. His feet shot out from under him and threw him back into the middle of the current.

Panic blotted out everything for a moment as the thick mud swallowed everything, dragging him down to the bottom. Yellow spots danced in front of his eyes, and he struggled to keep from thrashing around in a panic. Small, quick hands were already helping him untie the straps of the packs. When he surfaced again, he saw Jordan had lost her pack as well. Wesson had fallen in, too, but now he was standing on a precarious ledge on the other side, looking like a miserable little man made out of mud.

Jordan's normally bright yellow hair was a sludgey brown color, now. Mark was pretty sure he didn't look much better. He gave Jordan and Wesson a hand up to the opposite bank and pulled himself up after. The feat was much easier now that he didn't have their belongings dragging him back.