I looked ahead just in time to see Azag’s foot plunge deep
into slimy, sluggish water. Once he’d extracted himself, we carefully probed
the wetlands around us with sticks, looking for a way forward.
“It’s all too deep,” he said. “And getting dark. We may as
well go back to that last island; I need to dry out or I’ll get the rot.”
I grunted in agreement and we retraced our steps to one of the
rare raised patches of land. Within a small circle of trees there was enough
room to build a fire and put our bedrolls down.
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