Page 18 of Agor

Icy needles of horror prickled my skin, raising the hair on the back of my neck. Gripping the knife tighter, I wondered whether I’d have a chance to strike if the creature behind me attacked.

The subtle sounds of the night forest blended and dissolved into each other. But a snap of a twig on a tree as someone passed by it behind me came loud and clear.

A shadow lurched my way from behind me, and I stepped aside, under the protection of the nearest tree trunk.

“Fuck!” the orc growled. Stumbling forward, he couldn’t stop the momentum with me out of his way and nearly fell. “Slippery wench.”

I jumped after him and stabbed the knife in his back. With orcs, I’d learned, it was best to strike when I had a chance instead of asking questions. Because one chance might be all I’d get.

The orc jerked. My blade scraped his shoulder blade, making only a shallow wound. He roared in pain and rage.

Another orc grabbed my arm from behind.

“This fly can sting,” he hissed.

I didn’t remember seeing these orcs back in the keep. Not that it mattered, even if I did. All orcs were the same—best only when they were tied and chained. Or killed.

Fear and desperation gave me strength. I twisted in his grip, leaping backwards to free my arm. Mud sloshed under my boot. The ground gave in. My foot sank, and I jerked it up. The bog released it with a loud smacking noise, only to claim my other foot instead.

“Get her, Irg!” the wounded orc roared. “Get the bitch.”

Trapped between the bog and the orcs, I searched for an escape in a panic. A half-rotten log lay to my right. Placing my free foot on the log, I put all my weight on it and pulled on the foot held by the bog. The log held, and the murderous mud released me.

I climbed onto the log, but my relief was short-lived. There was nowhere to run from here. The thick trunk of the fallen tree was barely above the mud surface. With my weight added to it, it was slowly sinking deeper.

Irg moved after me.

“Get back here before you drown, you stupid water rat. What a waste of a perfectly good pussy would that be.” He took a step closer—the step that proved too wide. His foot sank, the dark mud enclosing his giant boot. “Shit.”

“Irg?” The other orc lurched after him, but Irg stopped him by raising his hand.

“It’s a bog. Stay on the dry ground and toss me a rope. It’s sucking me in.”

“But I don’t have a rope,” the other orc muttered.

“Your belt, then? A tree branch? Anything.” Irg freed his foot and tried to step on my log. The rotten trunk collapsed on one end under his massive weight. “Urgh!” he groaned in frustration, landing in the mud with his knee.

I fell to all fours, clinging to my end of the trunk for dear life.

“Forget the pussy, Irg, and come back here,” his buddy suggested, unbuckling the belt from around his wide waist. “No wench is good enough to die over her, even as rare as a human one.”

“I’mtryingto get out, you idiot.” Irg splashed and crawled in the mud on his hands and knees. The noise of his cursing and thrashing spread far and wide in the quiet of the night.

“Here, catch the belt.” The other orc tossed the end of his belt to Irg. It splashed in the mud, falling short from the spot where Irg struggled desperately to get free.

Through the commotion, a soft sound of bubbles popping came from behind me. I peered into the darkness. The only light in the night came from the stars, the glowing slime on the tree trunks around the bog, and an occasional insect flying over the deadly mud.

Wisps of silvery mist curled over the swamp. The fog parted with a puff of air coming from below. A bubble as big as a cauldron formed on the bog surface. It popped, and a slick pale head rose over the mist.

Thick mud rolled off the flat head shaped like a diamond, revealing pale snakeskin, a pair of glowing white eyes, and an open mouth filled with several rows of needle-like teeth.

“Bog hydra!” Irg’s friend yelled in horror. “Run!”

Irg roared, putting all his might into his next attempt to free himself. The bog had claimed both his legs past his knees already. As he jerked through his entire body, he lost his balance and fell forward.

The monster behind me unhinged its jaw, opening it wide enough to swallow me along with the remaining piece of the log.

I sprang to my feet, jumped onto Irg’s wide back, then made a frantic leap, spurred by terror, and reached the very edge of the swamp. My feet slipped in the mud. I fell forward, propping my hands on the ground—a much more solid ground than the mud under my feet.

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