"Morwen, what-oh, my." Cimorene squished over as quickly as she could, followed by Killer and Kazul. Trouble, somewhat muddy and damp looking, was clinging with grim determination to a spot high on Kazul's back. The moment the dragon stopped moving, Trouble extended a rear leg and began washing it vigorously. Killer looked unusually pleased with himself, probably because floating six inches off the ground had kept him the only completely dry and unmuddy member of the group.
"What happened?" Kazul asked as Cimorene joined Morwen. "That was not one of the most enjoyable experiences I've ever had."
"I'm not completely sure." Morwen reached into her right sleeve and began fishing around. "I'm a witch, not a magician. But I think it's backshock from that transportation spell."
"Backshock?" said Killer.
"If you pull a rubber band too hard, it breaks and snaps your fingers," Cimorene explained. "The same sort of thing can happen when someone loses control of a spell, only it's usually more serious than stinging fingers."
"Oh." Killer looked at Morwen. "Rubber band?"
"Never mind," Morwen said. "Ah, there it is." She pulled her heavy-duty wool camping blanket out of her sleeve, glanced around for a dry spot to put it, and ended by draping it across Killer's back.
"Cimorene, we have to get Telemain out of this mud. Help me lift him onto Killer."
"What? Wait a minute!" said Killer, taking two hasty steps backward.
"I'm not supposed to do things like this. I'm a rabbit."
"You used to be," said Morwen. "Now you're a six-foot floating blue donkey. Hold still."
"But you'll get mud all over me!"
Trouble glanced up from his washing. "Good idea. Can I help?"
"If you do, you'll get muddy, too," Scorn said. She looked at Trouble.
"Muddier."
"The mud will get on my blanket," Morwen said. "And I can tell you already that Mendanbar is going to get a really enormous cleaning bill when this is all over."
"But-" "Don't argue," Kazul said to the donkey. "I'm feeling cross enough already, and my stomach is bothering me."
"The stomachache is a side effect of snapping the transportation spell," Morwen said. "The bad temper is probably from waking up too early.
Ready, Cimorene?"
Killer did argue, of course. It took nearly as long to convince him as it took to pry Telemain's unconscious body out of the mud, wrap him in Morwen's blanket, and hoist him onto the donkey's back.
"There," Cimorene panted, steadying Telemain with one hand.
"That's done."
"And it looks pretty useless to me," Scorn said. She had joined Trouble on top of Kazul and was watching the whole procedure with an expression of disapproval. "Now that you've got him there, what are you going to do with him?"
Killer shifted his feet in evident unease. "This is really uncomfortable.
Isn't there somewhere else you could put him?"
"He doesn't care much for riding on you, either," Morwen said.
"Don't worry, we'll try to keep it short. Kazul, can you see anything that looks like a way out of here?"
Stretching up to her full height, Kazul peered into the fog. "No.
The fog's getting thicker, and the trees all look the same."
"Hey, warn me before you do that," Trouble said reproachfully. "I almost fell off."
Kazul lowered her forelegs and glanced over her shoulder. "That can be arranged."
"It wouldn't matter," Scorn said to Trouble. "All that washing hasn't done much good. You still look like something the dog dragged in."
"You've got wings," Killer said to Kazul. "Why don't you fly up and look around?"
"Because there isn't enough room between the trees for a proper takeoff, because flying in a fog is dangerous, and because I probably couldn't find you again once I got up above the treetops," Kazul said.
"The tops of forests all look the same."
"Oh."
"You found Telemain," Cimorene said to Morwen. "Can't you use the same method to find a way out of here?"
"I could if there were any magic left to trace," Morwen said.
"Unfortunately, there isn't. Pick a direction."
"That way," said Cimorene, and they started off.
Walking through the swamp was hard work. With every step, the ankle-deep mud sucked at their feet. Twice, Cimorene almost lost one of her short leather boots, and even Kazul had difficulty making headway. The only one who had no problem was Killer. Telemain's added weight did not pull him down at all; his hooves stayed a dry six inches above the muck no matter what. Morwen found herself wondering a little sourly whether the donkey could walk across water the same way he did across the endless mud.
Around noon, Morwen passed out chicken-salad sandwiches to everyone.
Her sleeves had protected them from the mud, which was doubly fortunate since Cimorene's pack had leaked and the remains of breakfast were inedible. Unexpectedly, no one complained of a stomachache (though Killer complained about the taste of the lettuce and the bread), and the sandwiches disappeared rapidly.
When they finished eating, they went on. Morwen kept a close but unobtrusive eye on Telemain. Though he did not stir, he did not appear to grow any worse, either, which surprised her a little. She kept both her surprise and her worries to herself.
On and on they waded, until the shadows began to thicken as did the fog. Beads of moisture glistened on Kazul's scales, and the cats complained loudly of the damp. Morwen gave up trying to keep her glasses from clouding over. Telemain remained unconscious, and the worry line between Cimorene's eyebrows grew deeper.
"It'll be dark soon," Cimorene said at last. "We should find somewhere to camp. If there is anywhere. We haven't seen a dry spot since we got here.
Killer, where do you think you're going?"
"I'm hungry," Killer said. "If you're going to make me haul people around, the least you could do is let me eat. It's been a long time since lunch."
"There isn't anything to eat," Cimorene said.
"Not for you, maybe, but those things over there look edible to me."
"What things?" Feeling slightly annoyed, Morwen took off her glasses and began hunting for a clean patch of robe to wipe them on.
"Those things wrapped around the trees," Killer said, cocking a bright blue ear to his left. "The viney things with the silver leaves. There was one patch of clover back home that had saver leaves sometimes, and it was especially good. Sweet and tart at the same time, and quite strong."
"You're seeing things," Cimorene said. "There aren't any vines on those trees."
"There are, too. You must be looking in the wrong place. Here, I'll show-" Morwen shoved her glasses back onto her nose and snapped, "Killer, stop right where you are. Don't you take another step toward those vines of yours. If they're really there, they could be very dangerous."
Killer looked at her in disbelief. "They're just plants."
"Possibly. Kazul, do you see anything?"
"Trees, fog, and mud," the dragon replied. "Lots and lots of mud. And I agree with Cimorene. We should be trying to find somewhere to camp, not arguing about imaginary vines."
"Not imaginary," Morwen corrected. "Invisible. To be exact, invisible dusk-blooming chokevines." She peered at the trees, wishing she had time to collect one or two of them. Then she shook her head. Cimorene and Kazul were right, and they'd wasted enough time already.
"They don't look dangerous," Killer said stubbornly. "And I'm hungry."
"The last time you said that, you drank Morwen's wizard-melting water and turned blue," Scorn said.
"Quiet," said Trouble. "Go on, Killer. I would if I were you."
"You hush," said Morwen. "Keep away from those plants, Killer.
They're called 'chokevines' for a very good reason. Try to remember you're carrying Telemain, and avoid anything dangerous. And let us know if you see any more of those vines."
"Oh, there are patches of them all over," Killer said. "We've been walking by them for the last hour. You really can't see them at all? None of you?"