Chapter 17 Isi
ISI
As the sun set, we followed Bryson through the jungle until he stopped in front of a tree shaped like a living tower, its trunk broad enough to carve out a house.
Bark textured like scales caught the fading light, and thick branches spiraled upward in natural steps—natural if you were the size of a horse.
Moss draped from the lower limbs in velvet curtains.
“This one?” I asked Bryson, and he nodded. Turning, I studied each face, all looking as exhausted as I felt. My arm had been screaming at me for what felt like forever. It throbbed, and the skin felt too tight. I was almost afraid to look at it once we’d settled.
Perspective was everything; now I barely felt the wounds on my back.
“We climb,” I said, shoving aside the pain as best I could.
Everyone stared up at the canopy disappearing into shadows. Silence stretched until Bryson hefted his stick and approached the lowest branch. Turning, he gestured for us to climb ahead of him, his gaze scanning the surrounding vegetation.
I took the lead.
Reaching the lowest branches was the hardest part. Rain slicked the bark, and pain arced through my injured arm with each pull upward. And once I reached the branches, I had to wrap my good arm around each one and haul myself onto the next, sweat beading on my forehead and trickling down my spine.
Maddox surprised me by moving to Jaxon’s side, cupping his hands to boost his brother up. “Here you go.”
“I’ve got it,” Jaxon snapped, jerking away. His face flushed, embarrassment and wounded pride warring in his expression.
Maddox’s hands dropped. The critical, overbearing look he gave Jaxon didn’t hide the fact that he was deeply worried. Watching his brother step away had to be torture. He wouldn’t know how to stop it.
“Careful,” Derren called out from below me. “Some of these branches have thorns on the underside.”
We climbed in slow stages, pausing to help each other navigate tricky sections.
The tree seemed designed for ascent, with branches thick enough to support our weight.
As we rose higher, the air grew cooler and strange scents swirled around us.
Sweet flower nectar, earthy moss, and something sharp and green I couldn’t identify.
Jaxon climbed behind me, offering his hand to Kerralyn on every branch where he paused. “Need help?”
Each time, she took it with a shy smile, and once, they stumbled together as she pulled herself up, both quickly looking away.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He shrugged, but grinned. “Happy to assist.”
“Show off,” Maddox muttered, but there was no real heat in it.
Lexie climbed with easy grace, her compact frame perfect for navigating the branches. Derren followed close behind her, one hand hovering near her lower back in case she slipped.
Bryson brought up the rear, moving with the fluid confidence of someone who’d spent years learning physical discipline. “Keep going,” he kept saying. “We can stop high in the canopy.”
A third of the way up, the world transformed.
“Look at this,” Kerralyn breathed, running her fingers over a section of bark that glowed faintly blue. Patches of it bloomed here and there on the trunk and branches. This place might be horrifying, but it also offered beauty.
The jungle floor had disappeared into darkness by the time we reached a suitable place to stop. My arms and legs shook, and my wound kept breathing fire across my bones.
Most of us dropped down onto a particularly wide branch, though Bryson remained standing, leaning against a thick limb.
“Let’s go through Kerralyn’s pack,” he said after seeking my gaze and waiting for me to nod. “We’ll eat and then we’ll pick branches where we can get some rest. It’ll be safer to lean against the trunk.”
“Sounds good.” Kerralyn sent a smile Jaxon’s way.
His face brightened.
I curled my legs beneath me, trying to hold in my fever shakes.
Above us, small, dark, green-furred creatures moved through the canopy, stopping to peer down at us, their bushy tails swishing and their whiskers twitching.
Birds with translucent tail feathers caught the dying light like stained glass.
They shifted along the upper branches, their claws scratching to maintain their hold, their eyes filled with curiosity.
A few took flight, soaring to neighboring trees.
Rain fell in a steady drizzle, but the thick leaves overhead kept us from getting any wetter.
Glass-thimble bees buzzed through the foliage, their bodies catching light like tiny lanterns.
They seemed intrigued rather than aggressive, hovering near us before drifting away on fluttering wings.
Pale fungi clung to the tree in patches, the silver-blue phosphorescent vegetation Kerralyn had pointed out during our climb.
The soft moss coating bark made it surprisingly comfortable. Maybe we would be able to sleep.
Below us, glowing insects drifted like fallen stars, their light pulsing in slow rhythms.
The patchy view stretched endlessly in all directions, jungle canopy rolling toward peaks of distant mountains, mist rising from the thick vegetation below.
Gorgeous and terrifying. The sheer scope of this place hit me. We were specks in a lovely yet vast, hostile world that appeared to want us dead.
Kerralyn pulled out her journal to make notes in the dim light. “I’ve never read about anything like the ecosystem here.”
“It’s trying to kill us,” Maddox pointed out, but even he seemed awed by the alien beauty surrounding us.
Kerralyn looked up from her journal. “I read…” Her swallow took a long time to go down, and she glanced toward Maddox before continuing. “I read that the trials take place on an alternate plane.”
That would explain the attacking creature I’d never seen or read about before.
“All I know is that this place sucks,” Maddox said. “I came to the castle excited to learn how to use magic, not die.”
“Death seems to be a big part of the Rite of Bonds, though I haven’t read why,” Kerralyn said.
Maddox’s lips thinned.
“What’s that?” Lexie pointed at my upper tunic pocket.
Glancing down, I found the top of a pouch half the size of my fist poking from the leather. I tugged it out and placed it on my palm. Soft, the fabric appeared well-made, and it had been tied with a simple cord.
I had not put it in my pocket.
“You wouldn’t hide food from us, would you?” Maddox actually teased.
I hoped it was a tease. I was too worn out to deal with his sneers now.
Kerralyn held out her hand. “Let me see?”
I gave her the small bag, and she opened it carefully and sniffed. “Fraewort. You must’ve tucked it in there and forgotten. Smart, with your arm injured. Put some on the wound and eat a few bites. It tastes bitter, but it works fast. You’ll feel better by morning.”
I took it back, pretending I remembered bringing it.
The leaves were sharp and medicinal on my tongue, with an aftertaste that reminded me of a mix of dirt and pine.
Lexie helped me carefully unwrap my wound, then spread the herb across the red, seeping gash.
Almost immediately, the throbbing pain eased.
I tugged my tunic back on and gingerly leaned back against the tree trunk, wondering how the herb had ended up inside my pocket. Was it there when I put it on? I doubted that because I would’ve noticed something large enough to create a bulge.
Who had put it there since I entered the trial, then?
I suspected I already knew, and I wasn’t sure what I thought about that. I didn’t want to like him.
I shouldn’t. What if he’d killed my sister?
But my heart and my mind couldn’t come to an agreement.
“Let’s see what we’ve got for food,” Lexie said.
Kerralyn opened her pack, and we all held our breath while she tugged things out, carefully laying them on the branch in front of her.
Preserved fruit discs, oiled packs full of strips of dried meat, nuts and seeds mixed with nuggets that had a nice, spicy kick, and water globes you could bite a small hole in and suck down the contents.
Not enough water, but enough food to keep six adults alive for a few days if we were careful.
“That’s amazing, Kerralyn,” I said. “Smart thinking on your part.”
She beamed. “I tried to take things that wouldn’t spoil. Food’s no good if it goes bad.” She handed out small portions, stuffing the rest back inside her bag and hanging it on a narrow, outstretched broken limb nearby for safekeeping.
We ate, and our meals were gone too fast. I wasn’t the only one eyeing her bag with a growling belly.
Jaxon offered some of his food to Kerralyn. “I’ve had enough. You take the rest.”
She flushed, shaking her head. “You need it more than I do. You’re bigger.”
Jaxon flexed his arm, making her giggle. “I’ll protect you from the scary plants. I’ve seen worse.”
“Those plants aren’t anything to joke about. They killed a bunch of people,” Derren said.
“I know.” Jaxon’s humor faded fast. “Just trying to make everyone smile. If I could hunt, I’d track down a beast and bring back the meat. If I knew plants, I’d gather them to feed us all.”
His heart was three times bigger than Maddox’s—and Maddox knew it. He may have started out protecting his little brother because he was worried the baby would die, but I suspected his early, protective feelings had changed when he started to see how sweet a person his brother was.
Who couldn’t love Jaxon?
Maddox rolled his eyes. “Try to be humble instead.” Always the parting shot. But affection softened his voice when he looked at his brother, the kind of exasperated love that came from years of watching someone you cared about flounder around, learning how to survive.