19. Our Jungle
OUR JUNGLE
ELENA – RYTHAR’S FORTRESS IN THE GREEN REACH
Rythar’s hand closes around mine. His grip is warm, even gentle, as he pulls me out of the room and up a flight of stairs. The stone is cool under my bare feet, smoother than the ragged concrete of my childhood. There is no need for words.
We climb several flights of stairs, then exit onto a rooftop where the world opens to an immense, flat expanse ringed with waist-high walls.
We’re not at the top of the fortress, but we’re high up.
From here, the jungle is an ocean of green.
The treetops move like water, flowing in the wind.
The air moves more up here, bringing scents in from around the jungle.
Cinnamon floats in, and something like ripe peaches.
Beneath that is the undercurrent of what I associate with growing things.
The sky is vast, purple and blue with a bright sun.
Up here, the Xythean sun doesn’t seem all that different from my old New Terran sun.
From my glimpses of it while I was in the jungle, I thought it would be greener or bluer.
But no, it’s white, and it’s warm on my skin.
Rythar releases my hand. He gestures toward a low table set near the edge, where two soft, woven mats face each other.
The table is laid out for a meal. There’s more bread sliced into thick slabs, platters of sliced fruit, hunks of some charred protein I don’t recognize, and smaller sauces and shredded things.
Vegetables, maybe. There are no attendants, no servers. Just us.
I hesitate, wondering what this is. But there’s nothing performative about this. Everything on the table is a meal for the two of us.
He settles cross-legged on the larger mat. I sit across from him and find that the mat is surprisingly comfortable. It’s a dense, springy material that eliminates pressure points. Definitely synthetic, despite the rustic look. I keep my hands in my lap until he motions.
Eat.
I reach for the bread, tear off a piece, and chew it slowly. The taste is good. It’s dense and savory. There are so many herbs and seasonings here. So many flavors that I’ve never had, or haven’t had in a long while.
Rythar watches what I choose, and how much I finish before I slow down. Every time I reach for water, he fills my cup before I ask.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say.
“I will ensure you stay healthy.” He sets the pitcher down and leans across the table. His hand comes to the side of my neck. One of his fingers lies over the place my pulse runs, and he holds it there, checking.
"You have been by my side instead of staying hydrated." His voice drops. "Drink."
I drink. He doesn’t take his hand away until the cup is empty.
Then he sits back, pours again, and waits.
When my hand hovers near a plate, he pushes it closer.
“What is it?” I ask, eyeing a strip of the charred protein.
“Rontaraon,” he says.
“I don’t know that word.”
“A type of bird. It lived in the high branches,” he replies. “Fast. Difficult to catch.”
I glance at the meat again. “And now it’s lunch.”
“Yes.” He takes a bite.
I pick up a piece. Rythar watches as my hand slows as the meat nears my face.
"You do not like the smell," he says.
"I didn't say that,” I say, embarrassed.
"Your face said it."
"It's fine," I say. "I'll just eat it anyway."
He sets his own piece down. "No."
"No?"
"Do not eat something you do not want. You are in the Green Reach now. In my jungle."
I bristle at the phrase. "Your jungle."
"Our jungle."
"That’s not better."
He does not rise to it. He watches my hands instead, the way they have folded in my lap.
"You are thin," he says. “You must eat when you are hungry.”
"I'm fine."
"You have been eating the same food for a long time. I could have it synthesized for you, if you prefer. I thought you would like variety."
Heat crawls up my neck. He has access to all the records in my scraped datachip. "You read my records."
"I read what was scanned."
I pick the meat back up just to spite him and take a bite. It’s not bad. It’s not good, either. I chew hard. "New Terra fed me fine," I say. "I'm alive." I take another nibble.
He tilts his head. "You were fed because you were prioritized for evacuation."
I stop chewing. I want to throw what’s left of the meat at him. I want to tell him he doesn't know what he's talking about.
But the ration tiers are in my mind. The shelves where some got more than others. Where all food was allotted based on your usefulness. I swallow the bite I’m chewing and chase it with water.
Rythar notices that I don’t reach for anything else. "Would you prefer your New Terra rations?" he asks.
"No," I admit irritably.
"Then eat."
"You can't bribe me with food, Rythar."
"It is not a bribe. It is food. I have a great deal of it. You are hungry. The equation is not complicated."
"It's complicated to me."
He leans forward, and his hand rests on the table next to my plate.
"Then tell me."
I look at his hand instead of his face. His fingers are still, but they’re waiting.
"Nobody does something for nothing, Rythar."
"I am not nobody."
"I know." And that's what makes it worse. "You’re the one who’s in charge of my entire life right now."
His jaw works. He doesn't move his hand. He lets the silence sit long enough that I start to shift on the mat.
He finally speaks, carefully choosing his words.
"I will ask you a question, Elena. I would like you to answer it."
"What question?" I ask warily.
"In the jungle. When I was bitten," he begins.
I go still, not liking where this is heading.
His eyes don’t leave mine. "Why did you give me the antivenom?"
My mouth opens. Nothing comes out.
"You knew me as your captor. You knew I had carried you here and would not let you leave. You knew I was dying, and you were the only one who could stop it. You could have let me die." He pauses. "So tell me what ledger you were keeping when you knelt in the mud and saved your captor."
"That isn't fair."
"It is fairer than when I teased you about it."
I look at my hands in my lap. They are shaking again. I fold them tighter so he can’t see.
"I was a medic," I say. "It was reflex."
"You did not stop to calculate," he says. "You did not ask what would happen to you if I died. You did not ask what would happen to you if I lived. You did not bargain. You simply administered an antivenom from your medkit. Why?"
I shrug. We sit in silence in the sunshine, in a place so beautiful and deadly and wild. “I just did it,” I finally say.
"Drenz told me what he said to you afterward," Rythar says quietly. "About what would happen if I did not wake. About who would take the Reach. And you. You did not know any of that when you made the choice."
My throat closes.
"So," he says. "Tell me about your ledger."
I can't tell him that I cared about him as much as I would have cared about any human. The thought is so large and so unwelcome that I can't think about it right now. I look at the table.
"I don't know why I did it," I lie.
"You do."
"Rythar."
"Eat something," he says. His voice has gone gentler. He is letting me off the hook, at least for the moment. "Answers come easier with a full stomach."
He reaches across the table and turns a plate a quarter turn, putting a small mound of something pale and sliced thin closer to my hand. "This is another type of bread."
I take one. It’s good. I take another, while he watches me carefully.
He's not just feeding me. He's learning what I like. Nobody on New Terra ever bothered to find out. And now he has asked me a question I don't know how to answer, and he’s not going to forget he asked it.
Running again is looking better than ever.
Between bites, I look around, thinking about escape.
I’m also thinking about his hand, still on the table where he left it.
I make myself look away from it. The rooftop is ringed by a wide lip of black stone.
Beyond that, there are other rooftops, some higher, some lower, all woven together by canopies and bridges.
It's an aerial city, each platform a part of the larger network. Movement on the other platforms is minimal, just a few figures in drab armor. The platforms weren’t visible from the ground.
I follow the line of the wall, looking for weaknesses.
None. The walls are too high to scale from below, too smooth to climb without gear.
I look for escape routes, a way to jump from one roof to another, but the gaps are wide.
Rythar could probably jump it. I've seen him move.
A human couldn't. The only access is the staircase we used, and I know better than to think it's unguarded.
As I scan the horizon, the jungle no longer looks like a monster waiting to eat me. It’s beautiful, like the way we used to have parks topside on New Terra. But it’s so much more than that. And much less dangerous—as long as I stay with Rythar.
The food may not be a bribe, but the sleep, the bath, the full stomach, and the lack of pain are all making me feel better than I have in years.
Rythar speaks. “Eat more.” It’s more of a reminder than a command.
I look up. “You can’t expect me to eat as much as you do,” I protest. But I reach for a different type of protein and take a hesitant bite. It’s salty and tender. Savory and pleasant.
He leans forward. “You are thinking very hard. Not about food. Do you have an answer to my question?”
I swallow and shrug. “No. I’d rather find a way out.”
He smiles, just a little. “There is no way out.”
“What about a way in?”
“There is no way in without my permission,” he says, certain. His eyes flick to the jungle, then up to the sky.