CHAPTER SEVENTEEN—“WHERE IS THE CAMP?”
The entire group had taken some time to swim and wash the slime off themselves in the pools inside the cave.
Once they were finished, Razul led the way out of the cave and back toward the Eiphr where their boat had been broken in half by the beast.
They trudged back through the same path the Hahkamorra had carved on its way up, and Shiro noted a new path it had creating when making its escape.
“I wonder if it will survive for very long?” Ali said, also noting the divergent path.
“I do not care,” Yaser spat. “I am only glad to be free of that beast!”
“We have wasted a lot of time,” Shiro said. “We lost our boat—our supplies. We will have to camp on the river until our ships meet us.”
Ali nodded.
“On the bright side,” Razul said in airy tones as he pushed back his hair. “If these are the worst things the Eiphr can throw at us, then I think reaching the south with the army will be very little trouble. However!” He raised a finger. “We have barely started this journey. I may know of the Hahkamorra from my experiences in other lands, but I also know they say that the Eiphr only becomes more perilous the further you go down.”
There was an annoyed silence.
“We should have brought an explorer who has made the trip before,” Ali growled.
“We did not have time to go searching for such a man,” Shiro said as he stepped over a fallen tree in the path. “We did the best we could. Now… Razul, how dangerous does the Eiphr become?”
He tuned, walked along the path backwards and shrugged. “I do not know. But!” He put up a finger again. “From my understanding, that ‘increasing danger’ spoken of was implied to me—or at least I thought it was at the time, though I don’t know of whether it’s true or not—“
“Say it!” Ali spat.
“I believe that at the time of being told this information, I was under the impression that the increasing danger was not natural.” He paused for a moment. “Or was that the general word that went around?”
Ali rolled his eyes. “Sometimes, brother, I am astonished that you became the better adventurer.”
Razul laughed, then put his best swashbuckler’s grin on—or at least Shiro thought it was his best—and said, “Fortune does not favor the cautious or the intelligent brother.” He tapped his temple in the Abassir fashion that Ali often did to Shiro. “The bold, brother. It is always the bold.”
“Is watching me go into the maws of a beast to rescue your brother bold?” Shiro asked.
“Ah!” Debaku said, a grin on his face. “I think he has you there, Abassir.”
Shrugging it off easily, Razul said, “I have made my fortunes, have won my women. I have gained the luxury”—he rubbed his forefinger and thumb together—“to sit back and relax from time to time.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Ha!” Ali scoffed as he pushed past Razul and moved an enormous leaf out of his way.
Shiro, stepping up behind him, saw the view of the river as they trudged over the wet mud and sticks and dried leaves.
Ali stopped at the water, put his hands on his hips and glanced about expectantly.
Shiro’s scanned the area and he found the boat, part of it still sticking up over the water. Clearly there was an air pocket, because the Eiphr was known for being deep.
“Where is everyone?” Shiro asked.
Except for the wildlife of flying birds and squawking creatures in the trees with strange curled tails that liked to swing on the branches, the area was quiet.
The Scorpions with Yaser behind, came up onto the beach and glanced about dumbly. Shiro continued looking around.
“Maybe they went further up the beach,” Ali suggested.
“Not likely,” Debaku said. “Shiro gave them orders to make camp, not to find a ‘good place’ for camp.”
Something unnatural was protruding out of the bark on the tree near Shiro. It looked like…
A stick?
Hmmm, Jessamine conveyed with immense amusement. This is quite interesting, Shiro.
Pulling the skinny stick out of the tree, he saw that the thing was sharpened with a little piece of bone fastened to the end and a plume of soft feathers on the back.
“Kurso,” he breathed. “Look at this!”
They came to Shiro. Ali reached out and took the little crossbow bolt. “Is this ours?” he asked as he made a face between stupid confusion and a frown.
“No,” Shiro said.
“Definitely not,” Debaku agreed. “Someone was here.”
Razul glanced back at the river. “They took our men.”
Sighing heavily, Shiro said, “Took them? Why not just kill them?”
They all glanced at one another.
Jessamine swirled into existence in a plume of smoke, a grin on her face as she leaned lazily against the rock near the water. “Oh… I can think of a reason why they might want to take the Scorpions.”
Debaku bowed quickly with his head. “Please tell us, honorable jinni.”
“Well, you know how to respect a jinni properly, now don’t you? It’s obvious that whoever took the Scorpions—is going to eat them!”
She shrugged nonchalantly.
Shiro’s mouth hung open. Razul scratched his brow while Debaku nodded with clear understanding.
Ali gawked. “Eat—eat them?”
“Indeed,” Jessamine said, her grin and amusement not faltering.
Sometimes she can be so heartless.
As he thought the words her beautiful brown eyes, rimmed with dark lashes, flicked to him.
She was probably listening in to his thoughts, as always. She couldn’t do it with the other men. Oh, she could sense emotions, intentions even, but it was a muddled understanding that wasn’t always easy for her to take part in.
But with Shiro, Jessamine could tap directly into his emotions—into his thoughts and hear the words he spoke to himself inside his mind.
Once her amusement had even made him make stupid faces at a very inopportune time.
Kami-sama—what am I thinking? That had been just today, actually.
He glanced up at the others. “We need to get them,” Shiro said, his statement brooking no disagreement.
“But… they took all the men!” Yaser said with a fling of his hand. “If they can take twenty men on their own without difficulty, how can we possibly expect to save them now? We don’t know what to expect. Nothing!”
“Stop whining,” Ali said. “Shiro came back for us. We are going back for the men.”
Shiro nodded.
That is the way.
Ali was often somewhat of a swashbuckler—the type that would leave a man to die if it meant escaping danger. But his demeanor and attitude had changed over a long period of time.
Shiro was aware, but he didn’t know why.
Was it the increased responsibility?
Or was it because Shiro was a good example to the Abassir?
Perhaps his marriage had a large impact on him.
“First,” Razul said. “We need to find out which way they went. Then we can track them down.”
“Not difficult,” Debaku said. “I can track them well.”
He turned and started glancing about the river bank. He bent, touched the ground and glanced up near the water. He moved and continued this process.
Ali looked the samurai pointedly. “We are going to cut these savages to pieces, Shiro.”
Shiro put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s just get the men back so we can make camp and wait for our ships to arrive. We do not have time to chase savages through the jungle.”
“Yes,” Ali said with a nod and a grin. “You are right, Shiro. We have a quest!”