Day 6-7

Harvey Logan

A day after they’ve climbed out of the rainy depression, Harvey started to believe that he’d make it out alive. But it was an illusion created by surviving a night under the naked sky. The slope offered an unexpected shelter to the four. The Royalblood, bastard or not, was an additional safety net. Fact, he was grumpy and silent, but that worked fine for Harvey. Now that Wandering Rain accompanied them, Harvey’s role was reduced to a passive follower. It was unsettling and he wondered how to make himself useful.

Maybe, I worry unnecessarily? What if this Royalblood is able to beat Butcher?

This would solve certain issues that tailed Harvey like a grim shadow. His cons have gotten out of hand a long time ago. He couldn’t get back to the Red Cities empty-handed, if ever. The silence had encompassed them to a such degree that neither of them realized what they stepped into until it was too late. The bog looked innocent. An overgrown valley with waist-high plant hid the bedding well enough to trick the party. No one blamed the innkeeper when he suddenly vanished amongst the green river. His scream was short.

The Royalblood dived after him before Harvey understood their situation.

“Stand back,” said Wandering Rain and … started praying. Like now, seriously? It was unexpected and still, the craziness just began. The Royalblood came flying out of the bog, in his arm was the unconscious innkeeper. Then a white creature followed. It looked skinless and too pale and otherworldly for Harvey’s comfort. It didn’t pay him any attention and surged forward the Royalblood and the innkeeper. When Giliad landed a punch, the creature gave off a brittle sound that turned Harvey’s blood to ice. He was already on his four, scrambling out of the valley. The praying wilding stopped only after the creature coiled near him. Its thickness was of an ordinary tree. Wandering Rain made an uncharacteristic sound, like a squeak and ran after Harvey. The conman knew a poser when he saw one. While both men got out of the valley and the reach of the monster, the Royalblood was dragged under. The innkeeper lay on the other side of the valley.

If I want to run, this is the moment.

Run where? Harvey’s wealth was solely located in the Red Cities and starting over in the jungle was not an option.

“This is a white bog snake,” explained Wandering Rain. “They drill tunnels beneath the ground and allow water to fill it. Deadly creatures. How is Zuma alive?” Is he? So far he didn’t move.

“The Royalblood.”

“Yeah, a handy companion,” Wandering Rain said and Harvey agreed.

The fight lasted another minute or two. The bedding of the valley was completely tarnished, which revealed a sizeable pool of water. The white bog snake struggled in Giliad’s arms then its body stilled. The display of monstrous strength ignited Harvey’s hopes anew. As he mulled the prospects over, the Royalblood had done something unexpected, and disgusting. He pulled the white creature out of the hole. Yes. It was longer than Harvey wished to know. Then, the idiot asked about fire. He wanted to eat the thing.

*

Harvey bent over a tree, feeling revulsion in his stomach. He’d called Giliad an idiot, what did it say about him? They’ve talked him into trying the piece of the oversized worm! Even cooked, everything about the meat was wrong. Texture, juiciness, taste, smell. The wildling didn’t live up to his name and had provided them with fire. Why did Harvey have to take a bait and taste it?

“I think it’s a poison,” Harvey muttered, too quiet for the rest to hear him.

Eventually, the small tasting panel turned into a feast. At least, the innkeeper made something for Harvey’s unsettled stomach.

“Shouldn’t we look for a shelter?” The night wasn’t far. They’d made it staying one the slope, but here, it’d be pushing their luck. Harvey still had nightmares of the night when they’d come to Cape Town. He wished to not repeat it.

“A good point,” agreed Zuma.

“Yes,” chimed in Wandering Rain.

“Yeah, I forgot about that. The food makes me forgetful.” For once, the Royalblood had a good mood. Harvey’s just turned sour. “Where is the nearest shelter?”

Wandering Rain who was the recipient of the question, shrugged.

“How should I know? I don’t know where we are.”

They better be playing because if not … they were screwed. Harvey closed his eyes and shook his head, hoping it was a poor joke on their part. It wasn’t. The night arrived without a warning. No one bothered with fire. The jungle was so humid it’d never allow the fire to spread. The forest has gone deathly quiet. Something dangerous was coming.

“It’s all your fault,” Harvey complained. No one argued with him. Everyone was focused on the path ahead. The forest was deadly enough during the day. Emm had drilled fear of touching any plant into Harvey’s mind. Only the issue was, Harvey couldn’t see much and with the uneven terrain, his hopes dwindled once more. Praying to Garhala didn’t lift his mood.

Harvey bumped into Wandering Rain as the wilding suddenly halted.

“That’s the heartfell tree. We’ll be safe at the top.”

Nothing else was said. Wandering Rain began climbing up, the innkeeper appeared next to Havey, murmuring the Red Cities’ curses and followed the wilding.

“Go.”

The Royalblood didn’t seem to care at being the last. The jungle slowly awoke to nightlife. Roars and shrills sounded here and there. Predators were on the hunt. The tree was easy to climb and Harvey couldn’t understand what was so safe about it. Any large feline could easily get to where they nested.

“Where is Giliad?” the innkeeper asked.

“Should be behind me.”

Giliad

Giliad didn’t follow them. After the solid meal, his strength returned and he needed a moment for himself. The Awakened had been so powerful it numbed Giliad’s mind. He’d talked big about going against the empire if they didn’t accept his right to live peacefully. But if she was any indication of what awaited him out there, his chances were non-existent.

The forest during the night posed no threat to him and he was going to use its deadly potential to its fullest.

*

Running after wild animals didn’t yield any benefits. A training Giliad had hoped to do hasn’t come to fruition. And while he could go without sleep for days, he didn’t like it. So yeah, he was not in the best spirit. He’d hoped to encounter an amakor. The king of predators would at least be a challenge. Or so he believed. There was no guarantee he’d be able to beat an amakor, but that nuance wouldn’t hold him back.

Giliad was about to call his companions when Wandering Rain climbed down. He frowned but refrained from asking questions.

“We shall reach Soto today.”

“You said you didn’t know where we are.”

Wandering Rain didn’t seem to be troubled by this. Was the Awakened spoke to him? It’d mean she could extend her powers for miles and that sounded unlikely to Giliad. He’s been impressed by her might but his gut was telling him that there were hard limits and they already had passed one. The wildling tied a backpack around his shoulders and waist, then his tattooed face gave an impression of thinking.

“I did it yesterday to add a bit of spice. Everyone was so terrified. It was funny.”

Giliad didn’t press the matter. Partially, because of the huger that started haunting him. The bog creature was fulfilling but night escapade drained his stomach.

“We need to find a game.”

Wandering Rain’s face was split by a wide smile.

“I know just the place.”

Zuma and the bandit joined them after Giliad shook the tree and upon hearing the news their faces went pale.