Mud squelched around Malcolm’s foot, joining the noise of the group slogging through another low spot on their path. An occasional splash from the water and buzzing of insects filled in the sound.

  Malcolm's fingers traced the leather binding on his dagger hilt, its weight against his thigh now as familiar as the ache in his muscles. Three days of slogging through this hellscape had left a film of dried swamp water cracking across his skin. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. Everyone's stomach growled out here. His thumb found the blade's edge through the sheath. Each squelch of mud beneath his boots became the sound of steel piercing flesh—Tahlur's flesh. The vision was so vivid his breath caught.

  A twig snapped nearby. Malcolm's head jerked up, jaw tight enough to crack teeth. Focus. The others moved like shadows around him, eyes darting, hands never far from weapons. His fingers returned to the dagger, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward as they pressed onward.

  Izzy's fingers dug into Malcolm's forearm, yanking him sideways. "Malcolm!" she hissed through clenched teeth.

  Malcolm's vision snapped back into focus, the daydream of Tahlur's blood evaporating like mist. He rubbed his eyes. "What?"

  "The temple's just ahead." Izzy released his arm, leaving five pale imprints on his mud-spattered skin. "Deeah's scouting. Could be crawling with guards."

  Malcolm's hand instinctively found his dagger. "So we wait here?"

  "You three stay put." Izzy's eyes narrowed as she scanned the tree line. "I'll shadow her. Be ready to move on my signal."

  Malcolm's jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around the hilt. He forced his fingers to relax and gave a curt nod. Valgrin and Skwilly approached, their boots making wet sucking sounds against the swamp floor.

  Valgrin leaned closer to Malcolm, his breath warm against Malcolm's ear. "I'd rather be up there with Izzy."

  Malcolm's fingers twitched against his dagger hilt. "Agreed, but we'd be in the way."

  The trio fell silent. Every rustle of leaves, every distant bird call made Malcolm's head snap up. Water pooled around his boot as he shifted his weight forward, then back again. His jaw clenched. Unclenched. Clenched again.

  The snap of a stick breaking shattered the silence. Malcolm's hand flew to his weapon before Izzy emerged through the brush, Deeah's shadow close behind. Izzy's finger shot to her lips, her eyes wide with warning as she beckoned them closer with a sharp gesture.

  "Voices," she breathed, barely audible. "From the temple. Couldn't make out words, but If I could

  hear them th…”

  “They might hear us,” Malcolm finished in a hushed voice.

  “Exactly.” Izzy’s hand motioned to the brush and trees around them. “We shouldn’t be viewable unless they search and the vines on the ground do a decent job of not showing prints after a few seconds, so we’re harder to track. There is a clearing about five or six sizes bigger than this space in front of the temple. Two guards in the courtyard space were visible to me. Deeah, that brings us to you.”

  Deeah dropped to one knee, her fingers tracing lines in the mud. Twigs snapped under her weight as she arranged sticks and leaves in a rough square. "This is the courtyard," she whispered, placing a smooth stone in the center. "I was here." She plucked a leaf, set it at the edge. "First guard." Her finger traced a path between them, leaving a thin trail in the damp earth. A twig became the temple, positioned where Skwilly stood. Her dagger appeared in her hand, its point hovering over a spot halfway between her leaf and the twig. "Second guard."

  Valgrin's eyes widened, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Wait—you were actually in the clearing?" He stared at her unmarked skin, her unruffled clothing. "How?"

  “I may have understated my class. I’m an assassin, with a scout specialty, so my stealth and sneaking ability compounds and covers most every terrain and situation. A few extra skills and magical items don’t hurt either.” Deeah's lips curved into a half-smile as she touched the shadow-black fabric at her collar. The material seemed to drink in the surrounding light. "Let's just say when I move, even my shadow stays behind." Her fingers drifted to a pendant hanging beneath her tunic, its outline barely visible through the fabric.

  "Six hours between guard changes," she continued, eyes fixed on her mud drawing. "The replacement pair was just leaving when I slipped in." She mimicked their gestures with her hands, then slouched her shoulders and took two bored steps in place. "After that, they settled into the usual routine." Her finger traced a path through the mud, stopping at a point opposite her entry position. "I crossed this entire clearing while the second guard stared right through me. Could've slit his throat before his next heartbeat." A twig snapped between her fingers. "Neither of them blinked."

  “Hmm, are you saying you could take out the far one and we’d get the close one before he could raise an alarm?” Izzy asked.

  Deeah nodded. “That is what I’m saying. You packed your silent arrow, didn’t you?”

  “Of course, always do.”

  “Then have it ready. Watch the other guard. When he goes down, shoot your guy and either Malcolm or Valgrin can make sure he’s down. Skwilly, you watch the temple doors to warn us if we have any extras.” Deeah pointed as she spoke.

  Izzy looked up at Valgrin and Malcolm. “Whichever one of you doesn’t go for the guard needs to run to Deeah. I don’t want her that far away from help when things heat up.”

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  Sweat beaded on Malcolm's forehead as they crept toward the clearing. His heart hammered against his ribs while Deeah's fingers traced arcane symbols in the air, her whispered incantation sending ripples of magic that swallowed their footfalls.

  Every muscle in Malcolm's body screamed to charge forward, to hunt down Tahlur with blade drawn and vengeance burning in his throat. His fingers slowly rubbed against his dagger hilt. When Deeah's palm shot up, halting them, Malcolm bit down on his tongue until he tasted copper. She vanished between the bushes, leaving him to count each agonizing second. He whipped around, scanning for Izzy—nothing. Perfect. His eyes locked with Valgrin's, a silent understanding passing between them: this waiting was torture.

  Deeah materialized from the shadows, her eyes glinting with deadly focus. She beckoned them forward with a sharp gesture, leading them to a vantage point overlooking the temple grounds. Malcolm's breath caught at the sight of the guards—so close now. Deeah melted away again as Malcolm dropped to a crouch beside the others, his knuckles white around his weapon, every nerve ending electrified with anticipation.

  An image of Deeah laying in the grass with a knife in her back played in Malcolm's mind when the waiting stretched beyond ten minutes. His fingers twitched toward the brush—then retreated. If he moved now, he'd expose them all. If he didn't, and she was bleeding out... How long do we wait? We didn't discuss a plan if she got intercepted. She could need he—

  The far guard crumpled to the ground.

  "Now." He hissed, torn between relief and disappointment as he burst through the scrub brush. Part of him had wanted to be the hero, to save Deeah himself. Another part was grateful for the clean kill.

  A soft gurgle drew his attention to the arrow now sticking out from the second guard's neck. Perfect shot to the throat. Izzy, always stealing his glory. No—focus. Don't be petty. Malcolm veered toward where Deeah should be waiting on the far side of the clearing, letting Valgrin finish the closer guard.

  Malcolm was halfway across the clearing, when chaos erupted.

  Metal clanged against metal as alarms shrieked through the air, bouncing off ancient temple walls and piercing Malcolm's eardrums. Skwilly's warning cry cut through the chaos a heartbeat too late. The mossy ground erupted—not just moved, but exploded upward—as massive, writhing mounds of vegetation burst forth. Vines lashed like whips, slicing the air inches from Malcolm's face while others transformed into gnarled, root-like legs that propelled the monstrosities forward with terrifying speed.

  Malcolm's blood roared in his ears as he pivoted hard, lunging toward the nearest abomination. The Mist Cloak spell erupted from his fingertips, engulfing him in a swirl of dense fog. A barbed vine whistled past his ear—so close he felt it graze his skin. With a primal scream, Malcolm drove forward, channeling every ounce of rage into his Overwhelming Strike. His sai blade connected with a sickening squelch, magic crackling up his arm as the creature seized. Snatching his second sai, he hacked furiously at the thrashing mass. "Die, you putrid pile of filth!" He screamed as his weapons became a blur, slashing and stabbing until the creature convulsed violently, collapsing into a steaming puddle of vegetation.

  Skwilly had two mesmerized by his dancing lights. Malcolm quickly averted his eyes. Valgrin stabbed at the one attacking him, making contact. Izzy stood at the edge of the clearing, two monsters closing in on her, both twirling their vines in front of them. It slowed them down, but provided a defense from her arrows. I can get to Izzy’s monsters first and she’s outnumbered.

  He ran towards the closest monster, altering from a sprint to a leap. “Aaarh! Death to pond scum!” The sai plunged into the back of the monster.

  A vine lashed out from the creature's back like a scorpion's tail, slicing the air inches from Malcolm's face as another tendril coiled around his wrist with crushing force, threatening to snap bone. Blood roaring in his ears, Malcolm twisted violently against the grip and plunged his second sai to the hilt into the writhing mass. The creature's green flesh gave way with a sickening squelch as he wrenched the blade in a savage arc. A violent tremor surged through the weapon and up his arm as the monster convulsed, its death rattle vibrating through Malcolm's very bones before it collapsed into steaming mulch. Through sweat-stung eyes, he glimpsed Izzy's dagger spinning through the air, embedding itself with a wet thunk into the second monster's core, green ichor erupting from the wound as it thrashed and dissolved.

  Then the world blew up, everything happening simultaneously.

  “Tahlur in the doorway.” Skwilly yelled out.

  A bolt of lightning flashed, hitting Izzy. Malcolm screamed, then saw the electricity crackle against a barrier. One of her medallions flared brightly and then disappeared. Four guards ran out from the temple, one of them too red to be human. Deeah appeared next to the temple wall and cast something that seemed to freeze the guards. He saw Tahlur point at him, just before the lightning shot in his direction. Diving to the left, he barely missed getting hit. Thank you, Mist Cloak, for giving me a

  chance.

  He jumped up from the ground, watching three more swamp monsters appear from the green floor. Two headed to where Deeah last appeared, the other headed toward Izzy. Izzy landed two quick arrows into the forming mound. It returned to the ground.

  Deeah appeared near Valgrin, looking around for a target.

  Skwilly's scream tore through the chaos, "No!" The priggy hurled himself across the clearing in a blur of motion, his tiny body arcing through the air as Tahlur's fingers crackled with deadly energy. The lightning bolt exploded from Tahlur's hands, a blinding flash that connected with Skwilly mid-leap. The priggy's body convulsed violently, illuminated in electric blue for one horrific moment before crashing to the ground mere feet from Malcolm.

  "Skwilly!" Valgrin's anguished roar shattered the air as he bolted toward his fallen friend.

  Malcolm reached the smoking body first, the acrid smell of singed fur burning his nostrils. "He's still breathing!" he shouted, voice cracking as he desperately pressed trembling hands against Skwilly's chest. Healing energy pulsed from his fingertips, sinking into the priggy's twitching form. Malcolm locked eyes with Valgrin, whose face had contorted into pure rage, and gave a quick, determined nod before launching himself toward the temple, vengeance burning in his veins.

  A whistling sound cut the air, followed by a metallic thunk as Izzy's arrow found Tahlur's belt. Blue-white tendrils of electricity exploded outward with a crackling hiss. Malcolm dodged between the first two guards, their limbs moving like they were trapped in honey compared to Malcolm’s speed. The last guard's body jerked violently, his eyes rolling back before he crumpled to the stone floor. Through the acrid smoke, Malcolm caught sight of Tahlur—hair standing on end, face blackened on one side, stumbling backward. Their eyes met for a heartbeat before Tahlur scrambled through the temple doorway, his singed robes disappearing into the shadows.

  "Oh no you don't," Malcolm snarled, lunging after him into the darkness.