For some reason that makes me happier than it should. The entire time we've been on Xren, everything has tried to eat us, stab us, kidnap us, worship us or sacrifice us. Discovering an animal whose primary ambition appears to be chewing leaves feels oddly refreshing.
I continue walking. Behind me, Vyrathion follows with the air of someone enduring a terrible hardship. "I don’t see you," he says, stepping over a fallen branch, "looking for gold."
"You said there isn’t any,” I sniff. “So what’s the point?"
"Gold is the whole point. It’s always gold.Onlygold is the point. Am I making myself clear?”
“You’re really not.” I bend down to pick up a handful of clay. “Hmm. Let’s see now. Is any of this gold? No? All right.” I dump the handful of mud and brush my hands together. “See how carefully I search?”
I can hear his teeth gnashing. “That was not a serious search. Gold occurs in heaps of dust, in nuggets, in coins and bracelets and crowns and bars. Not asmud!"
I bite my lip. “Do you actually know how gold is found?”
He kicks at the ground. “I just told you.”
“Yes, but before that. Before the gold is made into coins and bars.”
“Gold is gold. Well, hoard gold is different. And certainly old crowns or such that’s been worn by kings are better than most other gold. Gold dust is cumbersome because it sticks to your feet and you’re always dragging it around your lair. But it is gold.”
“You know gold comes out of mines in rock?” I ask. “Or from the bottoms of rivers?”
He looks away. “I obviously have heard of mines. And yet, I have never had reason to consider those things. To me, gold comes from hoards or conquered lesser people.”
I tap my lips. "Because I don’t think there will be coins or crowns buried here. Or anywhere on Xren.”
“Jewelry will do. Bars too. Fine figurines. Dust, as I said. Nuggets.”
We walk on. The only way I can think of to actually find gold would be to pan for it in the river, but while I have seen docudramas about those things, I’ve never done it myself. Probably Vyrathion’s best chance is the Earth girls. If there’s a lot of them, maybe at least one was wearing some earrings when she was abducted.
Ahead of us the trees begin to thin. Sunlight brightens noticeably between the trunks, and I catch glimpses of open space beyond. Whatever lies on the other side, it looks different from the dense jungle surrounding the shelter.
I point ahead. "See? Exploration."
Vyrathion sighs heavily. “It all looks the same as everywhere else on this goldless planet. But by all means, go on.”
“Thank you. I believe I will.”
Behind me, Vyrathion steps over a fallen trunk with exaggerated reluctance. "There’s only trees ahead. I'd like to point out that we've already discovered several trees."
"But maybe those are amazing."
He picks a tiny leaf out of his hair. "Only you could find it amazing to find trees in an endless jungle."
"Maybe some of them are secretly made of gold. Have you checked?"
"If they were, I'd know it,” he growls. “And you’d know it because I would not look like this."
I smile and keep walking. The strange thing is that I don't feel any need to keep the conversation going. A couple of days ago, silence between us would've felt awkward. Now it feels comfortable. I know he's paying attention to everything around us, even while pretending not to care. He knows I'll eventually stop to investigate something completely unnecessary. We've both become predictable.
The realization sneaks up on me. Somewhere between river monsters, hostile tribes, near starvation and all the other disasters Xren has thrown at us, we've apparently settled into a routine. It’s not a bad routine, actually. Not something that would work in a calm, domestic situation in a suburb of Sacramento, but for a deadly jungle, it’s fine. For a while.
I roll my eyes. So now we’re fantasizing about bringing an alien dragon to Earth and buying a four-bedroom with him in a good school district.
“Get a grip, girl,” I admonish myself.
As I spotted before, eventually the trees thin enough to create a small grove. Sunlight pours through the canopy overhead. Large blossoms hang from the surrounding branches, turning lazily in the breeze. The air smells sweet enough that I stop walking without really meaning to.
For a little while I simply stand there.
