The pillars of creation

She reached under her cloak and touched the hilt of her knife. She wasn't some town girl, scared of her own shadow, unable to defend herself.

She was Jennsen Rahl.

Jennsen pushed the blankets the rest of the way off her and climbed out of the wagon bed, using a rear wheel spoke for a step. Tom was coming back around carrying a waterskin.

"Drink? It's water-I kept it hooked over the hame so the horses would keep it from freezing."

The cold had dried her out and she drank eagerly. She saw Tom wipe sweat from his brow and realized only then how warm it really was. She supposed no proper self-respecting swamp full of monsters would allow itself to be frozen over.

Tom pulled back the folds of cloth of something he held in one hand. "Breakfast?"

She smiled at seeing a meat pie. "You're a thoughtful man, besides being a good man."

He grinned as he handed her the pie and then turned to undo the trace chains from the horses. "Don't forget, you promised to tell Lord Rahl," he called back to her.

Rather than be pulled into any kind of a conversation having to do with her hunter, she diverted him from the subject. "You'll be right here, then? When I come back, I mean? You'll be waiting, so we can get back?"

He peered back as he lifted the breaching strap over the horse's rump. "You have my word, Jennsen. I won't desert you here."

By his expression, he was swearing an oath. She smiled her appreciation. "You should get some rest. You've driven all night."

"I'll try.»

She took another bite of the meat pie. It was cold, but good, and it was filling. As she chewed, she glanced at the wall of green beyond the meadow, at the darkness within, then appraised the iron gray sky.

"Any idea what time of day it is?"

"Sun's been up an hour, at most," he said as he checked the joints on the leather straps. He gestured back the way they had come in. "Before we started down into this low place, we were up above this fog and mist. It was sunny up there."

As somber as it was below the dark overcast, such a notion amazed her. It looked like dawn had yet to arrive. It was hard to believe that the sun was shinning not far off, but she had seen such heavy blankets of fog before as she looked down from high places.

After she was finished eating the meat pie and had brushed the crumbs from her palm, Jennsen stood waiting until Tom turned from unbuckling the girth strap from around the deep, powerful chest of one of his horses. Both big, well-kept animals were gray with black manes and tails. They were horses as big as any she had ever seen. They seemed out of scale, until she took in Tom working beside them. He made them seem not quite so imposing, especially as he gave them affectionate strokes. They appeared to welcome his familiar touch.

Both horses looked back occasionally at Tom as he removed all their gear, or rolled a dark eye toward Jennsen, but both kept much closer watch on the shadows beyond the edge of the meadow. Their ears were at attention, and fixed on the swamp.

"I'd better get going. There's no time to waste." He offered a single nod. "Thank you, Tom. If I don't get another chance to say it, thank you for helping me. Not many people would have done as you did."

His shy grin appeared again to show his teeth. "Most anyone would have helped you. But I'm pleased to be the one who was able to."

She was sure he meant something that she didn't quite understand. Whatever it was, she had bigger worries.

Her eyes turned toward the echoing calls coming out of the swamp. There was no telling how big the trees were because the tops disappeared up into the mist. As large as they looked, the trunks would have to be enormous. Vines descended out of the mist, along with any number of other twisting climbing plants enshrouding the limbs of the huge trees, as if trying to wrestle them down into the darkness below.

Jermsen searched the rim and found a ridge descending from the edge of the meadow, like the spine of some huge beast beneath the ground. It ran down in under the spreading limbs. It wasn't a path, exactly, but a place to start. She had lived in the woods her whole life and could find a trail others would never know existed. There was no trail into this place. Nothing, it appeared, ever went in. She would have to find her own way.

Jermsen turned back from the edge of the meadow and shared a long look with the big man's blue eyes.

He offered her a small smile-respect for what she was doing. "May the good spirits be with you, and watch over you."

"And you, Tom. Get some sleep. When I get back, we'll need to ride hard back to the palace."

He bowed. "By your command."

She smiled at his surprising manner, and then turned to the gloom and headed down in.

The swamp held heat gathered under its skirts. The humidity was like a presence waiting to push intruders back. With every step it grew darker. The quiet was as thick as the damp air, and the few calls reverberating through the darkness beyond only accentuated the hush and the vast distance that lay below.