Jumtha was a swamp.

  Holy shit. I think the whole planet is a swamp. Or several swamps? I don’t know. I’m way above the planet and it looks like it is 90% swamp. There is no chance this place smells even almost decent. I can only assume Jumtha as a whole smells like farting under a blanket again and again until you can see the fumes.

  I wish I was wrong more often. My predictions are generally too good, and I can only assume I am correct again.

  Arz decided to keep his prediction to himself as the ship flew toward Jumtha. The planet was overwhelmingly green and brown, even from so far away. It didn’t have the variation he had seen on Xylaphus when they were approaching.

  All the Jumthins on board seemed very excited to be returning to their homeland. Even Wildil sounded excited as he told Arz all about the planet.

  “The capital of Jumetra houses His Majesty, King Gumathra and the royal court. The lords of all Jumthin territories are required to visit quarterly to update His Majesty on the efforts they are making, whether it is expansion or scientific.”

  “I assume Gargaxia is a scientific endeavor,” Arz said.

  “In a way, it is both. Primarily scientific, but it is our first habitat in space. To know the long-term result of Jumthins living in artificial gravity is important for future expansion.”

  The ship rattled as it drew closer to the planet. Clouds rushed past as they drifted down, nearing the planet’s surface. Arz was on his feet with a hand against the wall to steady himself. Landing on a planet was such a uniquely odd experience that he wanted to witness it all through the window.

  The Jumthins guided the ship onto a platform that jutted out from a massive building that looked like it was made more from moss than stone, though Arz suspected that it had been only stone from the start.

  The door hissed open beside him, revealing several guards with helmets and spears right on the other side.

  Wildil scooted past Arz and announced their arrival, specifically mentioning Arz as a guest. The Jumthin guards retreated, leaving a passage for them to pass through.

  “Remember,” Wildil said before heading down the ramp. “We cannot assist you and like on Xylaphus, you are not allowed in official Jumthin buildings.”

  “Wasn’t all of the Gargaxia station an official Jumthin building?”

  “It was different.” Wildil turned around, which brought a smile to Arz’s face. Watching slimes face people, despite not having faces, just seemed so surreal. “Don’t draw attention to it. We will part at the ramp down to the swamp. Go and collect your things. Guard Thirty Two will wait at the bottom for your return.”

  “Oh, that’s your name?” Arz sarcastically asked the guard nearby.

  “Yes,” he said in a very high-pitched voice.

  “I thought it was Steven.”

  Guard Thirty Two shifted as if to look at Arz, but didn’t comment.

  “Questions?” Wildil asked.

  “Can I get some of the Jumthin slime before we leave to test during my gathering?”

  “Do you have open vials?”

  Arz nodded, pulling three out. Wildil grabbed them with a tentacle arm that appeared out of his body. He scooped chunks out of himself and handed them back to Arz to cork shut.

  “Does that hurt?” Arz asked.

  “No. It will reform soon. Good luck. Stay away from spotted frogs.” Wildil headed down the ramp, followed by the slimes from the front of the ship.

  “Just spotted frogs? How many frogs are there?” Arz asked.

  Guard Thirty Two visibly shivered again. “So many.”

  “Are only the spotted ones dangerous?”

  “Depends.”

  Arz scowled. Heading into the wilderness of Earth alone without experience was dangerous enough. Now, he was heading into the wilderness of a new place with only the knowledge to avoid spotted frogs.

  The whole procession continued on, staying with Wildil as he headed for the main building in the big stone complex. Before long, it was just Arz and Guard Thirty Two. The slime waited patiently nearby while Arz finished a few notes.

  “Are you planning to move?” Thirty Two asked.

  “You know, I just wrote that you were waiting patiently.”

  “I am not the most patient Jumthin.”

  “Cool.” Arz headed down the ramp. The air of Jumtha immediately smelled of farts. It had to be the swamp gas, but Arz couldn’t separate the association in his mind.

  “Where do I go?” Arz asked.

  “Down.”

  If anything, Arz wished Jumthins were slightly more talkative. Wildil liked to talk, but so did all scientists. Who didn’t enjoy monologuing about their research? The rest of the Jumthins, between guards and lords, hardly spoke at all. It made Arz miss Wildil’s company almost immediately.

  The walk from the ship to the swamp was easier and more interesting than Arz had expected. Despite the flatulence smell, the air was cool and refreshing, if one breathed through their mouth. Some guards watched Thirty Two and Arz as he traveled through their platforms. There were no railings on any of the bridges that hung high over even the tallest trees of the swamp below, which felt very careless and dangerous. Though Arz wondered if slimes would even become injured from taking a high fall. Wouldn’t they just flatten and reform?

  The stone walkways were elegantly built. Moss and vines had grown over much of the structure, giving it a soft feel. Arz took small samples of both, adding them to his pockets, though Thirty Two assured him that the vines growing over the stone were not the same vines that he needed to collect for the translation recipe.

  The ramps were easy to traverse and before long, Arz found himself at ground level.

  It was wet.

  “Are all swamps wet?” Arz asked.

  “Have you never seen a swamp?” Thirty Two asked behind him.

  “Honestly, I don’t think I have.” Arz sighed and tapped the sole of his shoe on top of the algae-infested water. Ripples passed over the surface, disturbing the plants spread all over the water’s surface.

  “You are on your own,” Thirty Two said.

  “Where can I find the vines and gas?” Arz had his notebook ready. The stone ramp led right into the water where it became slick with algae, so he stayed a few steps above. The last thing he needed was to be soaked through before even starting his solo journey.

  “Jumthin Vines are brown and thick. Swamp gas bubbles up from the surface, usually near cliff edges.”

  “How far will I need to go to harvest those?”

  “Swamp gas runs our facilities. You will need to go away from the city to find untapped gas.” Guard Thirty Two tapped his spear on the stone ramp. “Get moving before it gets dark.”

  Arz nodded and slowly stepped into the water. It came up to his belly button. Luckily, the water was at a comfortable temperature. More on the cold side, but not so terrible that he would be shivering the whole time. “Thank you,” Arz said as he walked away.

  “Don’t die.”

  Arz gave the slime a thumbs up without turning around. Wading through water was difficult enough that Arz’s heart started beating harder and his breath was harsher before he was even a hundred feet from the ramp. He looked over his shoulder and saw the slime in the exact same position he had been when Arz first ventured out.

  “Are you going to stand right there until I get back?” Arz asked.

  “I will wait for your return.”

  That wasn’t exactly an answer, but it was likely all he was going to get. Arz rolled his eyes and continued wading through. He didn’t have too many open containers at this point, so he only filled one vial with algae. It clung to the glass so he had to force the algae down with the tip of his finger.

  “How far do I need to go for the gas and vines?” Arz called, shouting back to the guard.

  “Into the swamp.” The guard’s high-pitched voice hardly carried far enough for Arz to hear.

  He looked down at the ripples in the water. Everything was so swampy already. “This isn’t the swamp?”

  “What?”

  “How do slimes even hear? You don’t have ears.” Arz looked back at the guard who hadn’t moved at all.

  “What?”

  Arz rolled his eyes and kept walking. If the swamp was further in, he would keep walking. It wasn’t complicated.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Wading through the water was a fantastic workout, but one Arz was quickly growing sick of. His pants clung to his skin and water squished between his toes with each labored step. Mud spread out as his feet moved, making the already green-hued water even murkier.

  It looked like a poorly made cup of green tea. Very horribly made.

  “What’s it taste like?” The thought flashed through his mind. He had hardly even realized as he murmured the question.

  He scooped some water into his hand and scowled. “Bad idea.” He opened his fingers and let the murky water run through. It was just thirst and hunger returning.

  If he was quick, it wouldn’t matter if there was anything edible on Jumtha. All he needed was a quick sample and then the guard waiting for him could use its spear to get Arz back to Bralincote, where he so desperately wanted to return.

  Jumtha swamp gas had a very particular smell. Mostly the smell of a rancid fart. Arz walked in a straight line, only moving aside for a tree, until he realized it was getting darker. The sun was going down, and the swamp still smelled moist at best. Nothing similar to the smell of swamp gas had greeted him. Arz looked around to get a better view of his surroundings, and his stomach dropped.

  “Where the fuck am I?”

  Water, algae, and trees spread as far as he could see in every direction. There wasn’t even a hint of the Jumthin structure in any direction. He gathered his thoughts and faced the exact opposite way he was walking. If he headed back, he could try in a different direction the next morning. He didn’t need to get lost.

  “Ribbit.”

  Arz stopped midstep. Water rippled out from his foot that he held in the air, not wanting to move at all.

  “Ribbit.”

  Arz closed his eyes and sighed. “There’s no way,” he whispered as he slowly planted his foot and turned to the source of the noise.

  A massive frog stood three feet away.

  Arz’s eyes widened. How had it gotten so close?

  Massive was an understatement. This frog was at least ten feet tall and possibly even wider. It was difficult to tell. Its wide, bulbous eyes blinked as it croaked again.

  From his perspective, Arz could tell it was a frog, and that was it. Its eyes were massive, taking up most of its head. Black pupils sat in the middle of textured irises that resembled the algae covering the water.

  Arz took a slow step as the frog croaked again and leaned forward until he could see past the frog’s head.

  Spots.

  “Shit.”

  Arz stopped moving, as if that would possibly stop the monstrous frog from murdering him. Wildil hadn’t said what was specifically dangerous about spotted frogs. The other types of frogs, whatever those were, weren’t as dangerous. But something spotted . . .

  Arz stared straight into the frog’s mouth and held his breath as he noticed two sets of fangs, very similar to a snake’s. Venom dripped from these fangs as the frog held its mouth open, also similar to a threatened snake.

  “I can’t be threatening you. I’m so much smaller.”

  The frog croaked again.

  “Fuck,” Arz muttered as he scrambled through the water. It splashed all over, throwing chunks of algae and mud into the air. A blind panic engulfed Arz as he ran. He had only traveled a handful of times, but something had chased him often enough that he would have guessed he had grown used to it. Shadow jellyfish, metal men, storms, and probably more had hunted him. Fear had been a regular part of portal hopping, but it always felt like Arz had some measure of control. There was a plan or some trick that he could pull, or at least something that made him survive.

  A giant, murderous frog chasing after him was the absolute pinnacle of fear that Arz had experienced. Each hop from the venomous frog shook the ground beneath him and sent cold water splashing against his back.

  Arz ducked and turned often, and saw a thick pink tongue flash past more than once. The impact from the frog’s tongue created an explosion of water where it struck. If that caught Arz, he would be launched backward into the maw of the frog, which was the last place he wanted to be.

  Maybe Jumtha as a whole was the last place he wanted to be. How had the slimes survived such a hostile place?

  Something struck his leg, and Arz gasped. He reached back, grabbing onto something sticky and wet. There was a delay before the frog pulled its tongue back. Long enough for Arz to look back at the frog with fear-filled eyes.

  Getting eaten by a wild animal was one thing. Getting eaten by a venomous frog was another. It felt inferior. There were so many better ways to die. There were so many cooler things Arz had seen even in his short time traveling. Dying while fighting a robot? Cool. Dying from a spotted frog? Not cool.

  The frog pulled its tongue back and the world spun around Arz. His face smashed into the water and his stomach twisted like he had been drinking for days on end. He saw the setting sun, the trees behind him, the frog’s wide, unblinking eyes, and the water again as he spiraled through the air.

  Arz and the frog’s slimy body collided as he managed to miss the fanged mouth and land instead right between its eyes. He slid down the body and dropped head first into the murky water right behind the frog.

  He scrambled straight to his feet, letting murky algae-filled water run from his hair. He was already soaked and hardly noticed the viscous water running over his skin.

  He pulled out a vial of Darkfire oil mud. If his predictions were correct, if . . . it would still burn. Arz never wanted to be violent. He never wanted to hurt anybody. Well, anybody other than maybe Higgrion. The vial was warm in his hand, especially after it had been dipped in the cool, murky swamp water.

  His thumb moved to pop the cork out as the frog turned and croaked. Its massive eyes blinked. From Arz’s perspective, the frog looked hollow. He could see deep into his mouth, down its throat where there was a pit of a stomach. A pit of nothing.

  If it ate him, would he even live long enough to know what the inside of the stomach was like? Would it be more spacious than his little cave on Doumenus?

  Arz flinched as the pink tongue darted from the frog’s mouth. He leaned just far enough away to avoid the tongue smacking into his face, but it was still close enough to stick right onto the vial in Arz’s hand. He watched the saliva drip from the tongue onto his thumb that was just about to pop the cork off the Darkfire oil. Before he could move, the massive frog pulled its tongue back, ripping the vial right out of Arz’s hand.

  He was calm as the vial flew back toward the frog. It could break and melt the frog from the inside out. It would make it even easier for Arz. There would be nothing on his conscience. All he would’ve done was show the vial. He hadn’t told the frog to take it or eat it.

  Almost as if the frog knew Arz’s thoughts, it let the vial go before its tongue returned to its mouth. The little burning vial of Darkfire launched through the air, spinning past the frog’s head. It splashed into the swampy water just behind the frog.

  “Oh.” Arz stared at the frog as it croaked again. The frog blinked. Arz clenched his cheeks.

  Water splashed all over as Arz dove to the side. He wouldn’t say he reacted well enough to dodge the frog, when instead he just happened to already be diving as the frog lunged. Its massive body passed over him like an eclipse. Gigantic webbed feet stirred up mud into the already murky water as Arz dragged himself along the ground. Weeds and other stringy plants drifted all over, providing enough leverage for Arz to drag himself forward.

  The frog splashed into the water beside him, throwing Arz to the side. It didn’t matter if he was underwater or not. That big of a creature moved a ton of water. Before long, there was no air left in his lungs. Arz pushed off the muddy ground and emerged from the swamp. Algae clung to his shoulders as Arz took a deep, haggard breath in.

  “Ribbit.”

  Arz sighed. Somehow his impatience and annoyance was managing to overcome his fear. Still, it seemed the frog was predictable. At least predictable enough for Arz’s sake.

  He dove back into the water and saw the briefest flash of the frog’s tongue. It wasn’t a graceful dive. The water greeted him like a brick wall, knocking the fresh air from his lungs as the frog’s tongue darted out again, missing wide. It wrapped around a plant and pulled it from the ground.

  Through the muddy cloud, Arz spotted the vial of Darkfire oil that still managed to burn brightly despite being submerged in murky water. The bright, dark flame illuminated the mud and plants around it in a purplish glow. He snatched the vial out of the mud and pushed himself back to the surface.

  Arz shook the water out of his hair, off his face, and popped the cork out of the Darkfire oil. The cork disappeared in the murky water at his feet. The frog was facing away from Arz, searching the water’s surface with its wide, unblinking eyes.

  He gripped the vial tightly. Was it worth it? Was it evil? A million questions passed through Arz’s mind without answers. There wasn’t time. It had become a fight for survival, and it was as simple as that. Arz poured Darkfire oil straight onto the frog’s back and heard the worst howl he’d ever heard. The spotted frog screamed as Darkfire filled its back, spreading into bright cherry red flames. The frog hopped and splashed in the water, thrashing all over, but water wouldn’t put it out. Nothing would. Even if Darkfire oil didn’t burn as hot as wood or regular oil, it burned far hotter than the frog could handle. Splashes of murky water put out the red flames, but they leapt back to life again right as the water sizzled off the frog’s burning skin.

  Arz squatted in the water and covered his ears. Every sound the frog made was horrible. It thrashed around until it collapsed beneath the surface, unmoving and quiet.

  After a moment of silence, Arz stood up and looked around. The spotted frog floated in the water nearby while the cherry red fire still burned upon its back. But the frog was certainly dead. More than dead. It was still cooking as the fire burned and the water around the fire boiled.

  Arz watched as the water grew hotter, bubbling like a spa around him. His heart smashed against his ribs as his fear continued fueling energy, despite the frog floating dead in the water beside him.

  Darkfire continued burning under the surface, but when Arz approached to collect it again, he found it burning deep into the frog’s body. The only way to get it back would be to claw out the intestines and whatever else had gotten mixed in with the oil. He let his breath out slowly, trying to calm down his heart. It felt like it thumped behind his eyes and rattled his brain.

  It was a shame to lose the oil. Arz had found a number of new alchemical ingredients, but Darkfire oil was his new second priority. Second only to Storm Tree leaves because without those he couldn't travel anywhere.

  “Do I have anything left?” Arz muttered as he patted his pockets. Other than the algae, his pockets were mostly filled with empty vials. Except one.

  He rolled his eyes. “Rainbow salt isn’t going to help.” It could make his food taste better. Its only real use was increased brain function, but that wouldn’t help. Not now at least.

  Arz was lost, and no amount of rainbow salt would help him think hard enough to find the way back. It wasn’t a matter of remembering. The swamp was a maze. A maze without walls or turns. It was treacherous because the whole place looked the exact same. He’d now have the landmark of the boiling water as the Darkfire continued to burn forever, but even that wouldn’t get him back to the slimes. Before long, the sun would fully set and Arz would be alone in the vast swamp.

  “I wonder if there are eels here,” he said idly.

  There would be no chance of him making it back, especially during a dark night. He waded through the water, away from the frog’s corpse. A few large willow-like trees formed a sort of grove in the distance. Arz walked toward it, thinking about sleeping somewhere a little high up to stay dry, even if only for a little while.

  It wasn’t a pleasant walk. Frogs could be anywhere, and with the setting sun, so came the croaks and ribbits of monstrous frogs from every direction. It was no different than a night on Earth by a lake or pond. Crickets chirped and frogs croaked while hidden from sight. But here with the size of the frogs, the noise had a new eerie sensation. Arz scanned everything around him, double checking if there was even the slightest movement in a weed.

  Arz woke up in a tree. To his surprise, it wasn’t the least comfortable sleep he had had. The little cave under the tree on Doumenus would certainly hold that title for a long time. The sun had risen, but it wasn’t a bright morning. He looked into the sky, only to see a dark wall of clouds in the distance.

  “Oh, good. I definitely need a storm,” he said sarcastically. He leaned back and let his eyes drift close again. Obviously he needed to move, but another few minutes of rest would do him good.

  “Ribbit.”

  What had been a peaceful morning, for the briefest of moments, was launched into a full panic. Arz opened his eyes and immediately grabbed the container of rainbow salt.

  “Why?” he asked, as if a frog would have an answer.

  A frog stood on the tree, about halfway between Arz and the water. It was significantly smaller than the spotted one from the day before, but it was still absolutely massive compared to frogs on Earth. This one he would compare more to a large dog. Perhaps bigger than a large dog. It was like a twin bed. A twin bed with huge orange eyes.

  Arz scowled. “I need better comparisons.”

  “Ribbit.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you.” He crawled along the branch, hugging it tightly. It wasn’t terribly far to the ground, but the water was shallow enough that he could still easily smash his head if he fell.

  The frog watched Arz without moving from its spot on the tree. Something buzzed nearby. A pink tongue darted out, catching the insect, and pulled it back before Arz could even get a clear look at what it was.

  Arz stopped on the branch as soon as he could see the frog’s back. He frowned upon seeing the pattern. “Is that argyle?”