Unless... unless what I saw was just a trick of the light. A yellowed leaf, a flash of gold that wasn’t really the compass. The jungle’s heat plays tricks. Thirst twists the mind. Maybe I’m chasing a shadow, going mad from the heat and the hunger, chasing ghosts that aren’t there.
Unless what I thought I saw was just a yellowed flower or a withering leaf gleaming golden, not the compass. Unless I’m going mad from the heat and thirst.
If that’s true, I might as well dig my own grave right here in this tangled mess of vines and roots. Separated from the others, alone in this cursed jungle, I’d be as good as dead. But I shove the doubt aside, force it down like bile rising in my throat.
Because just as the thought begins to settle in, the monkey stops running. It perches on a low-hanging branch, its beady little eyes glittering with mischief. My breath catches. Its tiny hand raises something, and my heart skips a beat.
It isthecompass.
It’s really there, glinting in the light, the golden surface catching a single ray of sunlight that slices through the canopy.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I meet the monkey’s gaze. It stares back. And for a brief, absurd moment, I swear there’s something like pity in its gaze. But pity doesn’t get me the compass. Action does.
“Give it back,” I pant, my voice barely a whisper, strained and raw. The monkey cocks its head to one side, like it’s considering my plea. I stretch my hand out, fingers beckoning it closer. It blinks.
How the hell did it come to this? My entire future hanging on the whims of a damned monkey. But here I am, forcing a smile, cooing at the little shit like it’s a child and not an impish thief.
“Hey there, matey,” I croon, my voice lifting into a sickly-sweet tone that makes my stomach churn. “That shiny little thing? It’s mine, not yours. Hand it over, and we’ll call it even, yeah?”
The monkey’s eyes narrow, and I swear its lips twitch. It shifts from foot to foot.
“Come on now,” I coax, the words dripping like honey despite the storm of irritation building inside me. “Give it back, and I won’t chase you anymore. I promise.”
For a moment, just a flicker, it looks like it’s working. The monkey’s grip on the compass loosens, its gaze softening as if maybe—just maybe—it’s about to play nice. My heart leaps. My fingers twitch in anticipation. I almost have it.
But then, with a gleeful screech, it springs into the air, the compass flashing in its hand as it swings effortlessly from branch to branch, taunting me.
“Damn it!” I shout, my voice echoing through the trees. My patience snaps, and without thinking, I scramble after it. My hands latch onto the rough bark, splinters digging into my skin as I haul myself up. Muscles scream in protest, but I grit my teeth and climb. The sting of raw palms and the burn in my shoulders are nothing compared to what I’ll feel if I lose that compass.
Not again.
“Gypsy!” Zayan’s voice cuts through my tunnel vision, sharp and incredulous. I glance down to see him standing at the base of the tree, panting, a thick layer of sweat all over him. “What the fuck, love?”
“I’m getting my compass back!” I shout down, the words grinding through clenched teeth. “That little bastard took it, and I’m not letting it slip away.”
The flash of confusion on his face is almost funny. It would be, if not for the fact I’m completely serious.
Just as I reach for the next branch, Vinicola stumbles out from the thicket, collapsing dramatically onto the ground like he’s been dragged through hell and back.
“Please…” he wheezes, barely managing to lift his head. “Don’t… do this… anymore…”
I spare him a glance, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say the guy was about to die. His golden hair is plastered to his face, matted in sweat and dirt, and his pale chest heaves like he’s been running for hours. The scratches and bug bites across his skin only add to how pathetic he looks like.
But it’s okay. They don’t need to keep chasing. I do.
“I can’t stop now,” I grit out, forcing myself higher. It’s not that much worse than climbing the mainmast in a storm—just hotter and more irritating. “I almost had it.”
Zayan’s exasperated sigh reaches me from below. “So what, we’re chasing monkeys now, Flint? Really thought hanging with you couldn’t get any crazier.”
“If that’s what it takes!” I snap, pushing through the exhaustion and the ache in my muscles.
The leaves rustle above, and I swear the monkey’s laughing at me. The little bastard.
But then my grip slips, my sweaty palms sliding right off the wood, and before I can react, I’m falling. I hit the ground hard, a sharp pain shooting through my side.
“Fuck!” I groan, rolling onto my knees. Every inch of me aches, but the pain in my pride stings worse. “It ran away.”
I can’t decide if I’m more pissed at the monkey or at myself. It was right there. I almost had it. And then what do I do? I stand there like an idiot, thinking it would just come to me.
