Chapter 18 Isi
ISI
My heart crushed itself against my ribcage as I counted heads, panic already clawing at my throat. Lexie. Derren. Bryson. Kerralyn. Maddox.
Where was Jaxon?
The question had barely flitted through my mind when the canopy above us began to shudder, a violent, unnatural movement of the leaves that had nothing to do with wind.
Birds exploded from the vegetation in a cacophony of squawks and beating wings, their cries sharp with terror.
Then came the bees. Dozens of them, zipping around us in a maddened frenzy, their buzzing musical fury.
My gaze found Maddox’s across the narrow platform of branches where we’d been sleeping. The color drained from his face so quickly I thought he might faint. A guttural sound tore from his throat, the kind of noise someone makes when they already know the worst has happened.
“No,” he breathed, staring toward the ground. “No!”
Primal panic broke out. We scrambled down branch by branch, bark scraping our palms raw, leaves whipping our faces. The bees dove at me, their stings tiny needles, leaving stinging burns on my hands, ankles, and neck.
“Damned bees,” Lexie snarled, swatting at them. “May the fates rot your puny wings!”
“Get to the ground.” Bryson’s voice cut through the uproar. “Everyone move.”
I dropped the last few feet to the jungle floor, my knees buckling on impact.
Then I saw Jaxon.
He lay sprawled on his back, barely conscious, his limbs twisted into unnatural angles. A broken tree impaled his chest, and blood poured from the wound.
Smashed honeycomb lay scattered around him like the remnants of a fairy tale gone horribly bad. Bees crawled across his face and neck, their movements sluggish, almost lazy. A few still buzzed angrily in the humid air above him.
“Jax.” Maddox hit the ground running, his control shattered completely. He swatted at the remaining bees with hands that shook so violently I was surprised he could coordinate the movement.
Honey squelched out from under the weight of his knees when he hit the ground.
“Stay with me.” He gathered Jaxon’s head into his lap, his voice filled with the kind of love that would tear the world apart to save one person. “Please, Jaxon. Don’t leave me.”
As we’d walked, Maddox had talked about how Jaxon had been sickly as a baby. How everyone said he wouldn’t make it past his first winter. How Maddox, barely six years old himself, had refused to leave his brother’s side.
They said he’d die, Maddox had said. But I took care of him, and he didn’t.
Now Jaxon’s chest rose and fell in shallow, labored gasps. His hazel eyes, so like his brother’s, but warmer, gentler, found Maddox’s face with considerable effort. When he spoke, his voice barely rose above a whisper.
“Make sure…” Each word seemed to cost him. “Everyone gets the honey.”
Even wounded so badly, he could only think of others. That was Jaxon.
Then his chest stilled.
Silence settled over us with the crush of a fallen boulder. The remaining bees continued their drowsy drone, but the sound felt distant now. Muted. As if the forest held its breath.
Maddox pressed his forehead to Jaxon’s chest. His shoulders began to shake—first with silent sobs, then with something deeper. More feral. Grief tearing out of him in waves that made my chest ache in sympathy.
Finally, Maddox looked up. The fury in his brown eyes hit me in the throat like an axe. I lifted my hand between us.
“I should kill you right now.” He scrambled to his feet and took a step toward me, his fists lifting.
I didn’t retreat. Instead, I shifted my weight to the balls of my feet, the way Commander Thorne had taught me. Ready for whatever might come at me.
“Back off, Maddox.” My voice grated like steel on steel. “Grief doesn’t give you the right to threaten me.”
Something flickered in his eyes. Maybe the realization I wasn’t the helpless woman he’d hoped I would be.
“This is on you.” His words cut like broken glass, each syllable precisely enunciated despite the tears streaming down his face, the sobs shaking his shoulders. “If you’d been watching… If you’d been the leader you seem to fucking think you are, he wouldn’t be dead.”
The accusation landed exactly where he’d aimed it, in the center of my chest, where guilt was already trying to eat its way through. But I forced myself to meet his gaze, even as horror crashed over me.
“I’m trying.” I was proud when my voice came out steady. “I’m doing the best I can. Blaming me won’t bring him back.”
“Your best?” Maddox’s voice climbed higher, cracking through the words. “Your best got my brother killed. He was the only family I had.”
It was not my fault, but I knew I’d never convince him of that.
I thought about Addie, murdered. Different circumstances, but the same devastating loss. The same crushing weight of guilt.
Kerralyn moved toward Maddox, her bag secure on her back. I hadn’t even thought to make sure we took it. Some leader I was if I didn’t think of ensuring we kept the food and water we’d need to survive.
Sympathy cratered her face. “Maddox, I know you’re—”
“What?” He whirled on her with so much violence on his face that she stumbled backward.
“You going to write this in your damn book too?” He pitched his voice higher to mimic.
“Jaxon died because our fearless pretend leader couldn’t be bothered to make sure the group stayed fucking together. Well, fuck you. Fuck all of you.”
He crumpled back onto Jaxon, the rage bleeding out of him as fast as it had risen. His fingers were impossibly gentle as they stroked his brother’s sandy hair, smoothing it away from the now peaceful face. Tears spilled down his cheeks.
This was what pure heartbreak looked like.
Watching him made my throat close off. He wasn’t the angry man who’d been questioning my every decision. He was a brother who’d lost the most important person in his world.
“Enough, Maddox.” Lexie stepped forward, her dark eyes flashing. “This isn’t Isi’s fault. Kerralyn’s either.”
“Lexie’s right.” Derren moved to stand beside her. His easy manner had vanished, replaced by something harder. More protective. “Why in the world would he climb higher in the canopy on the chance he could collect honey?”
“Are you saying he’s to blame for this?” Maddox snarled.
“No, I’m saying that he didn’t stay with us, that going off alone was a poor decision on his part. We’re all trying to survive here. Kerralyn’s part of the group, and she’s been helpful. Isi’s kept us alive this long.”
His defense felt hollow. Because Maddox wasn’t wrong, was he? I’d thrust myself into the leadership role. And I’d failed twice now.
Maddox’s gaze burned into mine with so much intensity it scorched my skin. He said nothing, but he didn’t need to. The hatred radiating from him made my skin crawl. If he wanted to hurt me, he could do it easily. I couldn’t hold my guard up at all times. I had to sleep.
I steadied my breathing and lifted my chin. If nothing else, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me afraid.
Without breaking eye contact, he worked Jaxon’s worn leather bracelet off his brother’s arm. He slipped it onto his own wrist, the expression on his face defiant. I suspected this was not only a claim but a promise. A vow. And the message was clear: I’ll make sure you pay.
Bryson watched the exchange before moving toward Maddox. He settled a hand on Maddox’s shoulder and squeezed.
“Don’t.” Maddox batted Bryson away without looking up. “Just…don’t.”
We stood in horrible silence. The bees had calmed, their movements sluggish as they returned to their hive in the canopy. But they felt like a warning. This place didn’t want us here. The jungle was making that abundantly clear.
“We can’t stay here long.” Bryson’s voice came out gentle but firm, the tone of someone who’d had to make hard decisions too many times in the past. “And we can’t…” He flicked his hand at Jaxon.
“Can’t what?” Maddox’s voice erupted from deep inside him.
“Bury him properly.” Bryson kept his words careful, respectful. “Too many roots. Too many rocks. No tools. And it’s too dangerous to stay out in the open like this.”
Maddox’s jaw worked as he processed this. “So we leave him. Like garbage.”
“We honor him,” Bryson said. “Same as we did with Fara. We give him what respect we can, and we carry his memory forward.”
The silence stretched taut before we started gathering what we’d need.
Branches. Broad leaves still green and supple.
Fragrant flowers Kerralyn identified as blushbyre in her usual, academic way.
We covered Jaxon the way we would’ve done Fara, and it felt personal.
Jaxon had been the happy part of our little group, always joking or laughing to break tension.
Always fidgeting with that leather bracelet when he was scared.
My hands shook as I placed a cluster of purple wildflowers near his head.
When we finished, Bryson stood at Jaxon’s feet. “Jaxon was a good soul. Kind. Gentle. I’ll miss his smile, his humor, and the way he could find something to laugh about even when things looked tough.” His voice roughened. “He was the light in this tunnel. We’ll carry his memory with us.”
Maddox remained kneeling beside his brother, his eyes never leaving my face. Something soft flickered in his gaze, though only for an instant. Regret, maybe. It vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by cold fire.
We moved a short distance away and ate some of Kerralyn’s food. The dried fruit and nuts tasted bitter. I felt Maddox’s glare like a blade between my shoulder blades. The others tried to carry on a normal conversation, if hushed, but it felt forced.
“The honey,” Kerralyn said. She collected pieces of the broken comb, wrapping them in cloth. “Jaxon said to make sure we took this. It’s… It’s actually quite valuable, not just as food. It has medicinal properties as well.”
Leave it to Kerralyn to find a scientific angle even in grief.