Page 7 of X’nath (Dark Orcs of Helfallow)

7

The Swamps of Despair

GRACIE

E ach step through the swamp was another drag of time, the damp air sticking to my skin like a second layer. I kept my eyes forward, mostly, though I snuck a glance over my shoulder now and then. The orcs were still there, surrounding us, larger than life and just as terrifying as they had been the day before.

Though I still didn’t trust them, out here, in the vastness of this swamp, the unknown seemed far worse than the orcs. They were, at least, something familiar. Something that could be dealt with. The other dangers—those creatures we had seen the night before in the skies, the vast empty stretch of water, the unending swamps that stretched out before us now—those were far worse.

Still, I kept my distance. I kept my thoughts to myself. They may not have been human, but they were males, and males who had their own interests in mind. We were nothing but a prize to them, and I was smart enough to know it.

I glanced at the younger women trailing behind us, some stumbling slightly, exhaustion clear on their faces. A few of them still held onto that na?ve hope that the orcs were here to help us —still clinging to the idea of safety. A few had even tried to speak with them, but the language barrier made it clear they weren’t going to get far.

The orcs, while mostly gruff when they were not bantering in their language, had been picking up on human English faster than I’d expected. They had understood more of our words than I initially thought, and their responses had been sharper. The younger ones, especially X’nath, seemed to grasp the language with alarming speed. It was unsettling to watch as they exchanged glances, a few broken words, a joke here and there. It was as if they were picking apart our language like a puzzle—piecing together the basics faster than I anticipated.

It made me wonder: had they been watching us this whole time, waiting for the right moment? How did they come to be around humans when I have yet to see any since we had washed up ashore?

A laugh sounded behind me, this time from Gorruk, I think his name was. He was one of the older orcs, his beard streaked with silver and his face weathered by years of fighting. He had hardly spoken to us, but when he did, it was always with a low rumble that made his words seem more like growls. Now, though, he was giving one of the younger women a good-natured grin.

“You don’t look like much of a fighter,” he said, his voice carrying a bit of a teasing tone. “Tell me, female—have you ever even held a blade?”

The woman he spoke to was a younger girl, one of the naive ones, who blushed at his attention. She nervously ran a hand through her hair, looking over at the others for reassurance. “I… I never had to,” she stammered.

The orc’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with something that could have been amusement, but there was a dark undertone to it. "Perhaps, but in times like these, you’d be wise to learn quickly.”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. Every time I looked up, X’nath's gaze was fixed on me, unashamed and unblinking. His attention never wavered, his eyes never leaving me. That cocky grin of his seemed to grow wider with each passing moment, and I felt a twinge of discomfort. He was flirting—there was no mistaking it. But I hadn’t given him any reason to believe I was the least bit interested, yet there he was, as if he was certain that he could win me over with nothing more than his presence.

I forced myself to focus on the path ahead, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling that crawled beneath my skin. I couldn't afford distractions—not with the swamp still ahead and the uncertainty of what we were walking into. There was no time for second-guessing. I had to keep my wits about me, and not let this arrogant orc throw me off balance.

“You know,” he said, his voice smooth like oil, cutting through the silence. “If you stopped worrying so much, you might actually enjoy the journey. I’m a good guide, Gracie. I’ll keep you safe.”

I didn’t look at him as I spoke, my tone sharp but controlled. “I don’t need your protection.”

His laugh was soft but full of arrogance, as though he found the whole situation amusing. "Oh, I know you don’t," he replied, his voice laced with teasing. "But it never hurts to have someone watching your back."

I could feel his eyes on me, even without looking. That smirk on his face was impossible to ignore, and I wondered how long he would keep this act up before he realized I wasn’t some fool to be charmed.

I kept my pace steady, but inside, my irritation was building. This was not the time for games.

We pressed on, the thick swamp air heavy with humidity as the men used their blades to slice through the dense undergrowth. The sounds of chopping and slicing echoed around us, blending with the steady rhythm of our footsteps. They moved methodically, as if they’d done this a thousand times before, every swing of their axes and knives deliberate and efficient.

Greag led the way, his large frame parting the brush with ease, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings, never allowing himself to grow complacent. Gorruk followed closely behind, his weathered face focused and calm, but his hand never strayed far from his weapon.

The largest and broadest of the orcs piqued my curiosity. He had a pistol strapped to his back, though it didn’t seem loaded. How had he come by such a weapon? Did these orcs raid human settlements? That would explain how they’d learned our language so quickly—perhaps they’d encountered enough of us to pick up on the basics during past raids.

That simple fact only reinforced why they didn’t seem like the saviors the women believed them to be. I kept my thoughts to myself, concentrating instead on my foot placement as I followed them.

We stayed in formation, the women flanked by the orcs at all sides, the eerie silence of the swamp pressing in on us.

I could feel their watchful gazes. Yet, despite my suspicion, I couldn’t deny something else. Something deeper that niggled at me. The orcs weren’t necessarily out to harm us—not in the same way the men on the ship had been. If they had wanted to, they could’ve taken us easily, or worse, left us to die in the waters or taken advantage of us in our sleep. But they hadn’t. Not yet, anyway.

Instead of leering at us, I felt their eyes more on our surroundings as we moved. It was as if they expected something, anything, to emerge from the swamp at any given moment. I caught myself glancing over my shoulder from time to time, half-expecting to see something lurking in the shadows, something that had been there the entire time but only now chose to make its presence known.

X’nath was a few paces behind me, his movements light and almost fluid as he adjusted his grip on his axe. Despite his earlier flirtations, he was eerily silent now, his attention fully absorbed in the surrounding wilderness. He wasn’t as obvious as Greag or Gorruk, but I could sense his eyes on me once again, watching from a distance, waiting for something.

The younger women stumbled now and then, their exhaustion starting to show. Some of them were no longer speaking, lost in their own thoughts, while others whispered quietly to one another, trying to keep the fear at bay. Their fragile optimism was fading with each passing step. The weasels had long since disappeared into the brush, though I could feel their presence just beyond the edge of our vision. I wasn’t sure what exactly they were doing—scouting ahead or simply keeping to themselves—but it was better not to question it.

The swamp around us was eerily still, save for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant croak of unseen creatures. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be this quiet, this tense. My body ached from the effort of walking through the muck and over the uneven ground, but it was the nagging sense of unease that was wearing me down more than anything.

Finally, I heard a soft murmur from the front of the line. Greag had paused, his head turning slowly, listening to something in the distance. The rest of us froze, the air thick with tension. Whatever was out there, we were about to find out.

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the younger women huddled close together, their expressions uncertain. X’nath was still behind me, his eyes scanning the surroundings, but there was something different in his posture now—alert, ready. He had stopped flirting, at least for the moment.

Then I heard it—a low, guttural growl, followed by a sharp screech that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It wasn’t a bird. No, it was something far worse. Something bigger.

The women behind me gasped, some of them letting out strangled cries. I turned just in time to see one of the younger girls stumbling back, her face pale, her eyes wide with terror.

“Get back!” I shouted, instinctively moving toward the girl to push her behind me. But the growl came again, this time louder, closer. The earth seemed to vibrate underfoot, and I realized whatever was making that noise was coming straight at us.

Panic erupted among the women. They screamed in unison, their voices sharp and terrified, echoing off the trees around us. Didn’t they realize their sounds of fear would draw whatever was coming our way?

I looked around frantically, searching for something—anything—that could be used as a weapon. My heart was racing, and my mind was clouded with the immediate need to protect. I spotted X’nath standing a few paces away, his eyes narrowed, his posture tense. He wasn’t running; he was ready for whatever was coming.

I didn’t hesitate. My hand shot out and grabbed one of the smaller blades from his waist, yanking it free from its sheath. X’nath’s eyes flashed with surprise, but I didn’t give him a chance to protest. There was no time for games.

“Move!” I yelled, pushing the women back and getting ready to face whatever nightmare was coming for us.

The sound grew louder, closer—something large, and whatever it was, it wasn’t alone. From the shadows, shapes began to emerge. I couldn’t make out the details, but there were several of them, moving quickly through the muck. I gripped the blade tightly, my knuckles white, my breath coming in short bursts.

I barely had time to think before the first creature broke from the underbrush—a massive, twisted thing with too many limbs and eyes that glowed unnaturally in the dim light beneath the canopy of the trees. Was there moss growing from their backs? Its screech echoed again, sending another wave of terror through the group.

“Stay close!” I shouted, trying to keep the women gathered. “Stay together!”

The orcs had already drawn their weapons, moving into position, but I didn’t trust them to protect us. Not entirely. This wasn’t a simple animal or something we could scare off with fire. This was a hunt, and we were the prey.

As the first of the creatures lunged, I swung the blade in a sharp arc, connecting with something—flesh, or maybe bone. I didn’t have time to check. The creature recoiled, screeching, but there was more coming. More were emerging from the swamp’s depths, their forms grotesque and alien.

My pulse thundered in my ears, my instincts pushing me forward despite the overwhelming fear. This wasn’t the swamp I’d learned to survive in—this was something much worse. The creatures were fast, and they had the advantage of numbers.

I barely had time to breathe before the orcs roared, their guttural battle cries filling the air like thunder. Greag’s roar was the loudest, cutting through the chaos as he charged forward, axe raised high. X’nath followed, grinning wildly as he gripped his massive blade and swung it with precision, cutting through the air with lethal intent.

The sight of them fighting gave me a moment of grim relief—they might not be saviors, but they were fighters. The air filled with the clash of steel on monstrous flesh, the sound of grunts and howls echoing in the swamp.

But the more we fought, the more we realized something horrifying. What had first appeared to be extra limbs or moss hanging off these creatures—twisting, writhing appendages—wasn't just part of their grotesque form. As blades sliced through the creatures’ defenses, the moss-like covering peeled away to reveal a writhing mass of something far worse beneath. These creatures were more than just beasts—they were something alive , something changed . The moss wasn't just a covering; it was a part of them, a living camouflage.

The realization hit me hard. These weren’t random swamp creatures. They were part of something... something deliberate. I swung my blade again, this time severing one of the many writhing tendrils that lashed at me. The creature let out a shrill scream, and the tendril dissolved into a strange, black fluid that splattered against the ground.

Greag took a swing at another creature, his axe splitting its side open. As it collapsed, the moss-like coverings split apart, revealing a horrific, fleshy mass beneath. It was clear now—these things were not natural. Not of the swamp, not of the earth.

“Watch the moss!” I shouted, panic creeping into my voice as I stabbed the next creature, lodging the blade inside its chest. “It’s alive !”

The orcs growled in understanding, shifting their tactics. But the creatures just kept coming, more emerging from the swamp’s depths with every passing second. They were relentless, overwhelming. The orcs were formidable, but the creatures seemed to be endless, their numbers swelling with each moment.

I gritted my teeth, pushing through the terror threatening to overtake me. There was no running. We were trapped. The fight was all we had left. I had to protect the girls.

X’nath’s voice cut through the chaos, filled with both exhilaration and a strange, dark amusement. “Not so easy now, is it?” He swung his blade down with brutal force, cleaving through another mass of writhing tendrils.

I didn’t answer. The creatures were closing in on us from all sides, and the swamp was no longer just a murky, treacherous terrain—it had become a battlefield. The only thing that mattered now was survival.