“Fall back!” Sheppard yelled. “Fall back to the transport!”
The horn blew. The answering call did not respond for several seconds. When it came, it was weak, as if the bugler were injured. As well he might be. The defending Daleran forces were stretched thinly across the ground between Quickweed Lake and North Bridge. There was no way to say for certain how many had succumbed.
A gust of wind through the trees brushed away the smoke, and it seemed to Teyla that the forest moved with a seething carpet of Wraith. Behind her, Major Sheppard uttered a low curse. She glanced around. The fight had somehow driven the defenders back to where the edges of the lake curved south. Their path to the village was now cut off.
“Give the signal,” Ushat told the bugler. “Order the Genes at the transport not to wait for us.”
“What?” Yann demanded, looking around at the exhausted and bloodied combatants with them. “You would sacrifice us?”
“No,” Major Sheppard replied even as he ran along the edge of the lake. “He’s trying not to sacrifice everyone else. Besides, we’re not done for yet.”
“And you shall not be,” came a voice from behind a stand of trees. A tall boy with fair hair and cheeks still bearing the pink flush of youth led a group of children out to meet them.
“Peryn!” Sheppard’s voice was filled with surprise, and frustration. “I’m pretty sure I told you to wait in the village.”
“Then who would lead you to the villages on the far side of Quickweed Lake?” The youth looked northwest, across the stretch of strange green and yellow growth that carpeted the black tarpit.
“Madness!” spat Yann.
The Wraith had spied their group, and, almost as one, turned in their direction. “Or death,” Teyla declared, pointing to the advancing foe.
Peryn’s expression reminded Teyla of the look she sometimes saw in Major Sheppard’s eyes. “Follow me,” the youth vowed, “and I shall lead you to safety.”
The other children quickly cast aside their weapons, removed their armor and ran light-footed onto the lake. The older boy glanced back at the adults. “Caution. Tread in my steps, and my steps alone.”
Without hesitation, Teyla followed him. The ground was soft beneath her feet, but it did not give much. She heard Major Sheppard behind her.
Ushat’s voice came from the shore. “What of the other children? Will they not fall into the slow death of black mud?”
Teyla glanced back. Like Yann and the other men, the guards-man had not moved, but instead eyed the children suspiciously.
“Follow my path alone,” Peryn replied, and increased his pace, moving surefooted across the strange, spongy ground.
“I would sooner die a quick death at the hands of the Wraith than flounder in the bowels of Quickweed,” declared one man.
Glancing past his shoulder, Teyla answered, “Then you shall soon have your wish.” She turned her attention to her feet.
Yann, Ushat and the bugler joined them on their path across the strange-smelling place. The remaining three took a moment longer before they, too, decided that a sure death was less attractive than a possible one after all.
“Some of this stuff is solid,” observed the Major. “How can you tell?”
“The color of the weeds,” Teyla realized, catching up with Peryn.
The boy shot her a surprisingly adult grin. “Only those of us who live by Quickweed Lake know its secrets.” The grin faded and he added, “Do not think you know the way, for the weed changes color as the sun moves west, tricking the foolhardy into paths that lead to a slow death.”
“I understand. But what of the others?” Teyla glanced around at the children, all of whom were running lightly across different sections of the lake’s surface.
“That’s why they stripped off their armor. To lighten themselves.” The Major glanced back at the Wraith.
Teyla followed his gaze. “They hesitate.”
“Just as you planned, many Wraith have died or are still dying at the hands of Quickweed.” Peryn paused so that the others could catch up.
“How is it that you know this?”
He snorted and pointed to the turgid gray veil smothering much of the southeastern edge of the tarpit. “We cut across part of the lake to join you. The smoke cleared in sections, and we saw.”
“So the plan worked,” Sheppard said. “There were just more of ‘em coming our way than we’d banked on.”
“And now they come after us,” called one of the men. “Look!”
Behind them, the Wraith stepped cautiously out onto the lichen-covered tar. The children closest to them began to scream, but Teyla could see that their cries were for show, enticing the Wraith to an easy meal.
“We must hurry.” Peryn motioned them forward, encouraging them.
“Next time I give you an order, Peryn,” Major Sheppard said, “feel free to disobey me.”
Teyla smiled. The youth had indeed the instincts of a warrior, and a leader. It pleased her to see that he was one of the Genes.
“You have done a great duty, young one.” Ushat voiced his approval. Another series of sounds traveled from the Citadel. “A warning,” he said. “They are about to set that section of the channel aflame.”
“Wraith must’ve reached them.” Sheppard squinted in the direction of the Citadel. “That means we’re about to get hit with a blanket of smoke.”
It was then that Teyla realized the sun was well past its zenith. “And soon, the Citadel will cast its shadow across us,” she observed.
“Then we must indeed make haste.” Peryn again picked up his pace.
The Major cast a worried glance at the sky, then shot her a doubtful look. “Why would the Wraith continue with the ground assault? They must know by now that—”
A panicked cry came from behind. One of the men had taken a wrong step and had fallen into a softer section of the lake. Behind him, the Wraith had foregone their fears and were bearing down upon them at great speed.
“Leave him!” squealed a second man. “The Wraith come.”
Sheppard turned back, and Teyla remembered his words: leave no one behind.
Yann and Ushat also ran back to assist. “It is Dalera’s will that all must be saved, with favor to none,” Ushat barked. “Help him!”
One of the terrified men ignored him, and darted ahead of Peryn, intent on reaching the forest on the far shore.
By the time they had helped the first man back onto the path, the leading Wraith were in trouble. The children danced around them, just out of reach, goading the Wraith to catch them. Enraged, many continued in their attempt to lunge through the sticky black tar. Others, realizing their folly, began to make their way back. Teyla suspected it was too late.
The man who had gone ahead was nowhere to be seen. “He fell,” called one of the children. “Over there.” She pointed to a large patch of emerald green, slurping around like a living thing. Of the man, there was no sign.
“Watch your footing, now,” warned Peryn. “This is the most dangerous section of Quickweed.”
All of the children gathered together to form a line between the adults. Teyla did not look back as the enraged cries of the Wraith continued. Then a different sound came from the Citadel. Although they could not see through the trees to the base of the fortress, they could see a vast line of flames shooting upward.
“The weir at North Bridge has been lowered,” Yann said. “Allowing the flames to travel upstream.”
Peryn said nothing, but continued to drive the pace. Teyla watched his gaze darting from side to side, seeking the correct path. The shore was close, but the smoke from the new blaze was already rushing toward them. “Perhaps if the path becomes too difficult to see, we should wait and tread more slowly,” she suggested.
“No.” Peryn shook his head. “You do not understand. This part of the Lake cannot sustain the weight of even a child for more than a few minutes. We must keep moving, or we will sink.”