The Once and Forgotten Thing by J.J. Sutherland

Author:J.J. Sutherland [Written By: J.J Sutherland Illustrated by: Racheal Carl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tempest & Jay
Published: 2023-06-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Consciousness felt optional. Viggo teetered at the edge of it; neither hurt enough to be urged completely into the void, nor well enough not to be tempted. It was Sunrise’s screams that told him he needed to come back – not because they continued, but because they had stopped, and he had to know why. Fighting his way though the darkness that threatened to encompass him, Viggo became aware of one all-consuming sensation: his legs were on fire.

His eyes flew open in a panic, checking immediately to be sure this wasn’t literal. It wasn’t. In fact, he was in much the opposite predicament – he was half submerged.

As best he could figure it, once he’d broken through the canopy he must have hit the swamp like a utensil dropped into thick pudding. There had been enough momentum to drive him in up to his hips where he had stopped…and stayed…and was stuck. He tried to stretch his legs and could not. The goo into which he’d fallen was thick and unyielding unlike anything else he’d ever encountered.

And it was hot!

As Viggo looked around he saw evidence of this heat in the bubbles that rose slowly to the surface of the green slag and popped open with sulfuric steam. The whole surface of the swamp – all that he could see of it anyway – bubbled and steamed like a cauldron coming ready to boil. Viggo knew if he didn’t find a way to get out of here soon, that thought would quickly become more than a clever analogy.

The Sinking Swamps were not entirely swampy. Nearby and almost within reach was solid ground. Viggo stared at the place where dirt and leaves dropped away into broiling slime and realized, had he landed only three feet to the left, he might have hit the ground and broken his legs – or worse. The heat suddenly seemed preferable, even if it was beginning to make him sweat.

Motion caught his eye and drew his gaze upward. In this place of steam and shadows, sunlight seemed oddly out of place. And yet there it was, streaming down upon the griffin from the hole she had punched in the canopy. She was shaking out her feathers, tucking her wings comfortably against her sides as she settled down over subdued prey. Viggo knew from the blue of her feathers that this was the same one who had carried him off – the one Sunrise had shot with her arrows.

Sunrise was motionless but alive. Their eyes met and he saw desperate fear quivering across her face. She didn’t dare fight. The griffin had caught her from behind, piercing long talons through both of her wings. Any move, any attempt at escape, would only tear them further. The creature stood over the fairy deliberately, delighted to hold her face-down in the dirt and know there was nothing she could do. Around the griffin’s claws, silver wings were slowly staining scarlet. Little whimpers of pain crossed Sunrise’s trembling lips with every breath but she no longer screamed; she knew it was pointless.

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