The weight of my quickly gathered supplies in the bag on myback was a constant reminder of how little I truly knew about what I’d gotten myself into. My leather outfit moved like a second skin, its perfect fit a comfort and an unwelcome reminder of where I knew it came from.
At least it didn’t exacerbate the pain from the lashes.
Behind me, someone stumbled. I glanced back to see Jaxon catching himself on a twisted root, his sandy hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. His nervous laugh had been silenced by what we’d witnessed, replaced by the kind of brittle concentration that came from knowing death stalked us.
The path we followed seemed too convenient for natural growth. Smooth stones had been placed at irregular intervals, creating stepping points across muddy patches. The evidence made my nerves sing with tension. Was the trail meant to guide us toward safety or something worse?
A blossom the size of a chair unfurled from a vine hanging directly over the path, its petals the color of fresh blood, shot through with veins of gold that thumped like a heartbeat. The flower tracked our movement, and I sensed it was patiently waiting for one of us to make a mistake.
I shifted over to the far side of the path, herding the others with me as we passed beneath it. The blossom turned, following our progress, rotating on its stem with a wet sound that reminded me of the carnivorous plants in the meadow we’d barely escaped.
“Don’t look at it,” I whispered, though I couldn’t tear my own gaze away from its hypnotic beauty. “Keep going.”
Sweat ran down my spine, mixing with the humid air that clung to me like something alive. The temperature had climbed as we moved deeper into the jungle, until breathing felt like drowning in warm honey. Steam rose from patches of dark soil, and the air shimmered with heat.
More flowers began to appear, their colors as vibrant as the others. Crystalline blue petals that chimed like bells when the wind touched them just right. Violet blossoms with centers that glowedlike captured starlight. Each was beautiful enough to stop the heart, and each one watched us with the same predatory awareness.
Vines dropped from the canopy, brushing across our shoulders and hair. The first time one touched Derren, he nearly leaped out of his skin, spinning with his fists raised before realizing it was just a plant. The next time, Lexie started to punch the vine before tucking her fist against her chest. But after being touched—tasted?—by so many of the vines, we all only flinched and kept jogging, our nerves stretched to the point we’d soon break.
A plant shaped like a massive spider tracked our passage, its white petals opening and closing in a rhythm that matched our footsteps. Another the size of a small tree thrust thorny tendrils toward us as we passed.
“I’ve never seen anything like this in my travels.” Bryson’s voice barely broke over the sound of our labored breathing. “Plants don’t behave like this. They’re not supposed to?—”
His words cut off as a tendril draped itself across his shoulder. We all froze, watching as the plant explored the texture of his tunic before withdrawing. Bryson’s face paled, but when the plant retracted back, he resumed jogging without saying a word.
Kerralyn’s breathing had grown increasingly labored. Her violet eyes darted between the watching plants and the path, and I could see her mind working, trying to catalog and understand what surrounded us. But understanding required energy she clearly didn’t possess.
She stumbled, catching herself on a moss-covered boulder. When she straightened, her face had lost all its color, and her hands shook where she gripped her journal.
“Keep up,” Maddox snarled from ahead, not bothering to look back. “We can’t slow down for every?—”
“Don’t,” I snapped.
Slowing, he turned, his brown eyes blazing with the kind of frustrated anger that came from fear. “She’s slowing us down. Look ather. She can barely stand, let alone keep pace. If we keep making concessions for the weak ones, we’ll all end up plant food.”
I moved closer to Kerralyn without breaking eye contact with him. “We’re not leaving anyone behind.”
Tremors ran through her slight frame as I wrapped my arm around the back of her waist.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cratered with exhaustion and shame. “I know I’m holding everyone back. I can keep up. I’ll?—”
“You’re fine. We’re doing this together.”
Fara waited for us to catch up before moving around to Kerralyn’s other side, helping support our friend. Her warm brown eyes met mine, and I was grateful she was nothing like Maddox.
“Thank you,” Kerralyn whispered, tears mixing with the sweat on her cheeks. “Both of you. I promise I won’t slow us down anymore.”
Our pacedidslow, though not by much. With Fara and me supporting her when the terrain became treacherous, we managed to keep moving deeper through the humid jungle.
The plants continued their silent observation, but something had changed in their behavior. They still watched, still tracked our movement with those unnaturally intelligent gazes, but they no longer reached toward us. Maybe our lack of weapons had marked us as non-threatening. Or maybe they were waiting for us to collapse before making their move.
Hours passed in a blur of heat, humidity, and the constant fear that every step might be my last. I’d nearly emptied my first water flask, and the food in my pack seemed inadequate for whatever lay ahead. But we were alive. We were moving forward. And for now, that had to be enough.
The jungle began to thin as we climbed steadily upward, the canopy giving way to scattered trees and rocky outcroppings. Finally, we spilled out of the jungle and stopped, all of us staring at a massive cliff face rising from the earth in a stone wall on the other side of a narrow strip of grass.
“It’s open out here.” Maddox looked back at the dense jungle. “In there, we can hide. Out here, we’re bait.”
“Out here, we can see what’s coming.” Bryson tightened his grip on the stick he’d picked up the moment we entered the forest. “Which, tactically, makes more sense. For now.”
