CHAPTER NINETEEN—HORIZON GLOW

Night had come upon them. All was quiet, save for the incessant chirping, yowling and crying animals in the night. The teeming wildlife on the Eiphr and in the jungles beyond had, since arriving, seemed full of ravenous hunger to Shiro.

But that was from the safety of the decks on their boat, surrounded by watchful eyes from trained Scorpion Guards.

Now, after the ordeal endured by a great monster of the river, their party of nine was particularly vulnerable to attack—both from the wildlife in this area and from whatever tribe was lurking out in the jungle. That threat, from the very same tribe that had taken the rest of the men, of which there had been eighteen of them, including Captain Ushtan, was very real.

They had traveled for a time on foot, and after the sun went down, had settled down for a time so the men could rest. But it was hot, and Shiro was sweating. Many of the men dozed off or hissed complaints.

Each of the Scorpions with them now held a few extra weapons slung over their backs. Netting from from their sunken boat had been taken and weaved into strings to help them do this.

If they were to arm the rest of the men and get out alive, they would surely need able-bodied soldiers wielding sharp steel.

A large cat snarled off in the leaves, the men gasping in fear, their heads turning. One of them made to get up, but Debaku put a hand over his shoulder. “Easy,” he said. “Do not fear the predators of this forest.” He looked at the rest of them, his snake eyes intimidating—and surely to some, even horrifying—and said, “They will not attack a group.

“What about that thing from before?” one of the men asked.

“This, is a different thing,” Debaku said in answer, his tone brooking no argument whatsoever.

That seemed to calm the men, or at least cow them into submission. Shiro was not sure which.

Debaku—there was something about the way he regarded the jungles, the way he seemed to understand them.

“You have been to jungles before?” Shiro asked.

Debaku nodded stoically. “Very far from here, to the east, past the known world as the Abassir Empire calls it.”

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Shiro swallowed. “Truly?”

Debaku nodded.

Oh please, Jessamine conveyed. Even past the Urutai Steppe is near enough to what he speaks of.

Do not discount him.

A feeling of arrogant scoffing came through to Shiro through their bond, but he said nothing, though he did wonder if she conveyed those emotions intentionally, or did he simply feel them because their channel was open?

Suddenly Debaku stopped. “Razul. Shiro. Come with me.” He didn’t wait for them to respond before he suddenly pushed through the leaves.

Shiro glanced back at Ali, an emphatic question on his features. But Shiro said nothing before he made to follow Razul and Debaku.

He heard whispers when he broke the plant life and stepped into a small clearing. “We must scout,” Debaku said. Then he indicated a leaning palm and nudged his head toward it.

Debaku stepped onto the trunk and climbed up. He peered over the trees for a time, and eventually he raised his arm, pointed wordlessly, then jumped down to the ground where he landed with an excellent spring to soften his impact.

“What did you find?”

Debaku said nothing.

With a sigh, Razul looked to Shiro and he realized the Abassir did not want to climb the tree. He was very lazy after all.

Shiro jumped up the trunk and used his hands for balance and to further pull himself up the leaning palm. When he got to the top where the fronds were too thick for him to continue climbing, he glanced through them in the direction of the river.

Beyond even the Eiphr, Shiro realized there was light on the horizon.

The fronds stirred and Shiro’s heart leapt as something dark moved. But when Jessamine came forward and looked at him with an impish grin on her face he closed his eyes and exhaled.

“Do not do that!” he hissed.

“I just want to see the view, Shiro,” she said, her tone light as she gestured lazily with her hand, her elbow tucked close to her body. She could not even lift her arm to shrug properly?

He narrowed his eyes in warning, but said nothing more as she giggled with uncaring delight. “And?” he asked.

“That light is not from the dawn. It’s far too early for morning.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know. Are you happy—with the view, I mean?”

“What view?”

He sighed.

Jessamine giggled, moved about the fronds and flipped herself back as if she were moving through water. She then slipped from them, her body falling out, but from where he was standing, Shiro could not see where she went.

He back-stepped then jumped off the tree, realizing Jessamine was gone.

The blue mist of a jinni—it was aesthetic theatre, nothing more. Jessamine had the powers of a spirit—or some of the powers of a spirit. The blue smoke that often appeared around her in dramatic fashion never actually poured from the spout of the lamp hanging at his side.

There were so many strange beliefs surrounding the little things about the jinni race that were completely untrue.

“So?” Razul asked.

“They have a camp,” Shiro said.

Debaku nodded. “We must be careful.”

“We need to scout,” Shiro said.

“Sounds like fun,” Razul added with a grin.

“Then come,” Debaku said. “But be quiet and follow me.” He glanced at Razul. “Do not wander.”

“I am not a child.”