CHAPTER TWENTY—SCOUTING PARTY

Shiro stepped after Debaku with Razul coming on up the rear. Because the moon was bright and the orange glow on the horizon quickly increasing, he had no need to be careful with his footing.

The forest floor was still dark, but with so much dirt and dead wet leaves, his footfalls were quiet.

“Do you hear that?” Razul whispered.

They stopped, pausing for a moment.

“It sounds like…” Razul began.

“Drum beats,” Shiro finished for him.

Debaku turned around. “Do not be shocked by what we are about to see.”

“What? What is that supposed to mean?” Razul asked.

Shiro’s heart was beating faster. Something within told him what he was going to see, or rather, he suspected something haunting—horrible.

I told you, Jessamine said. They eat people in these parts. If that is not what is happening, I would be very surprised, indeed.

Wait, Shiro conveyed back. I thought you were certain of this.

Darius never ventured into these parts. He never bothered.

So you do not know.

There have been stories.

Sotries?!

…Yes.

I would have thought a jinni would be more…

We’re not omniscient, Shiro.

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Debaku started up again, moving through the forest briskly, his footfalls silent. Shiro followed after him, realizing the beating drums were becoming louder, more frantic.

As they came closer to the river, the sounds of shouting and screaming could be heard, most of them strange chirping calls, some of them deep hissing cries—like that of jungle animals.

Debaku stepped out of the forest onto the river bank. He glanced about, then started wading into the water.

Shiro followed, swimming easily since he was barefoot, though his jacket caught the water and slowed him. The Eiphr was a deep river, not a wide river, so swimming to the other side only took a few dozen strides.

Dripping wet, he followed Debaku between two massive rocks on the beach and realized as he must have, that they were now on a trail, one walked often.

But now during the night, there were none of the savage tribals to be seen.

“This is getting eerie,” Razul said from behind, then he chuckled. “But fun, no?”

Shiro looked at him and he shrugged.

The path wound into the forest around more rocks. Shiro followed Debaku as his pace increased. When the trail opened up more fully, he took off, running at speed, his footfalls thumping in the dirt.

Why is he—

In the dark Shiro saw his silhouette move, his arm raise and then come back down. Something was hit, and then fell into the path.

Shiro came up short, realizing that Debaku had just knocked a person unconscious.

“Is that one of them?!” Razul hissed as he pointed his finger aggressively.

“Keep your voice down!” Shiro said quietly. He glanced about. “There may be more of them close by.”

Debaku wasted no time. He stepped over the man, grabbed him by the wrists and pulled him off the trail. It was hard to see, but through the pockets of orange light, Shiro could see that the man was mostly bare skinned, save for a breechclout.

If this man was any indication of who these savages were, Shiro was surprised they managed to overpower Scorpion Guards.

“Come,” Debaku said, moving briskly over the trail once again toward the noise of the drums and the screaming.

Razuled passed Shiro, following the Black Cobra along the darkened trail.

The screams—they were not the screams of pain or panic.

Not Ushtan and the Scorpion Guards.

These were screams of…

Wild worship.

It was Jessamine, conveying the words within Shiro’s mind, a bored sort of amusement coming though.

What?

Of pagan gods, she suggested. And sex!

Sex?

She must have appeared outside of his notice, because she slid her hands over his shoulders and lifted her knee up from behind, her bare leg rubbing against his thigh. “Yes, Shiro. Sex.”

“Now is not…”

She giggled, pulled herself away and disappeared.

Swallowing, Shiro felt distracted—despite the situation—and set off in pursuit of the others. As he ran, he shook his head, both in incredulity and wonderment.

“She is a jinni,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Sugoi desu ne…”