Chapter 20

Chapter

Twenty

M arieke's silent declaration was tested the moment they struck out the following morning. They'd passed a surprisingly uneventful night in their makeshift camp, the boundary enchantment like a comforting blanket over her as she drifted to sleep. But as soon as they crossed the invisible line where the protection ended, all comfort disappeared.

The jungle was like another world, every sense overwhelmed by new experiences. Perhaps most disorienting of all was the effect on her magical sense. The power in the ground under her feet on the path had already been stronger than outside the jungle. But it hadn't prepared her for how it would feel off the path. Magic writhed and twisted through the terrain, so thick in the ground that it felt like it was starting to climb up the trees. The sheer volume of it was uncomfortable. Usually Marieke had to call magic to her to get it to come up through her form. But this magic was almost aggressive—it wanted to pour into her even without being asked, and it took focused effort not to let it.

Not to mention the mosquitoes. They were much worse than Marieke had imagined, even with the warning of the shopkeeper in the village outside the jungle. Thankfully the salve they'd smeared over their exposed skin kept most of the insects from landing on them, but their constant whining buzz still grated on Marieke's ears.

They didn't talk much as they pressed into the jungle. Zev seemed as on edge as she was, the thickness of both the foliage and the air feeling suffocating. The steady dripping of water from the canopy suggested a light drizzle above, and they were soon damp and miserable. Marieke had never been so sweaty in her life, her skin sticky and her pack feeling heavier than its meager contents justified. Zev paused every now and then to score a tree with his blade to mark their route, and each time, Marieke let out a quiet lighting song to make the marks glow.

"It won't last forever," she said after the first such instance. "But if we try to retrace our steps within the day, it should light the way."

"Good thinking," Zev said. He studied her carefully. "Are you all right?"

Marieke nodded. "It's just…a lot," she said. "The magic, I mean. There's so much of it that it's hard to sing."

Zev looked bewildered. "Shouldn't more magic make it easier, not harder?"

"You'd think," Marieke acknowledged. "And to an extent, it's true. But not once you reach this kind of volume. Outside the jungle, the magic is like a steady river running under my feet, and I can reach into it and pull out as much magic as I want for my enchantment, up to the limit of what I'm capable of wielding. But here, it's more like an overflowing torrent which sees me as an outlet it wants to pour through. There's no way I have the strength or skill to wield the volume of magic trying to enter me, and my instinct tells me it would be dangerous to let it come through me at all. The trouble is, it actually takes a lot of finesse to take hold of only some of it. I have to focus hard to manage any songcraft."

"That sounds volatile," said Zev, alarmed. "If it might hurt you, maybe you shouldn't do it at all, Mari."

She shook her head. "It's fine. I just need to pay attention." She saw that he still looked concerned, and she laid a hand on his arm, which was as clammy and hot as her own skin. "Truly, Zev, I'm a fully qualified singer, and I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

He nodded, his expression easing. "I know."

Marieke smiled back as she wiped a trickle of sweat from the bridge of her nose. His faith in her meant more than he could imagine.

They'd walked for another half an hour when Marieke reached to push a vine out of the way only for Zev to reach out with lightning speed and grab her wrist.

"What?" she asked, her heart racing in an instinctive reaction as her eyes darted around them. The jungle was quiet, but as always, she could see only as far as the closest thick foliage. "What is it?"

"That's not a vine." Zev tugged at her, pulling her backward away from her projected path, his eyes fixed on the point ahead.

Marieke followed his gaze and barely stifled a scream as she saw the long-bodied snake looping down from the branch above. Thankfully it didn't seem interested in them, but she still backed away with such haste that she stumbled over a mossy log.

Zev's grip on her wrist stopped her from falling, and she allowed herself a shudder as she passed a hand over her face.

"I don't like this place." The honest words slipped out before she could stop them, but thankfully Zev didn't seem inclined to laugh at her .

"Nor do I," he acknowledged. "Open fields and peaceful orchards for me, thanks."

"I'd even take barren canyons over this jungle," Marieke said. "Come on, let's give it a wide berth."

They'd barely gone a dozen paces, however, when Zev stopped again. Marieke's eyes darted nervously around, but there was nothing sinister in the trees this time. Zev knelt down, shifting a large fern frond with his hand to better reveal a clear print in the mud.

"What animal made that?" Marieke asked, the skin on the back of her neck prickling.

"I don't know," Zev admitted. "I don't know anything about jungle creatures. I could track a wolf or a fox without problems, but this doesn't look like either of those."

"Definitely too big for a fox," Marieke agreed. She knelt next to him, studying the print. "It must be reasonably fresh, if it hasn't been washed away by this drizzle."

"I'll be honest, I don't like the idea of continuing without knowing what's nearby," Zev said. "I wish there was a way to know for sure." He glanced at her. "I don't suppose magic can tell you?"

"Actually, maybe it can," said Marieke. She stared unseeingly at the closest tree, thinking of Instructor Oriana's song at the burned field of wheat. "Storytelling song would be able to tell us what's near."

"Storytelling song?" Zev sounded intrigued. "Is that something you can do?"

Marieke sighed. "No, not really. I learned only the very basics. I didn't get to pursue it. But…"

She bit her lip. Kaine had said she had a strong natural aptitude, at least for one branch of storytelling song. She knew the basic concept. And the magic here was so strong it wasn't as though she'd struggle to find enough for the demanding task. It was worth a try.

Marieke cleared her throat, not trying to form the enchantment until she'd finished pulling magic into herself. It took all her concentration just to do that step. Then she cautiously sent magic out from her. In employing the magic, she copied the formula she used to test the nearby terrain with her agricultural songcraft. But she replaced the words with a simplified version of what she'd heard Instructor Oriana use at the wheat field. Not testing the environment itself, but the temporary elements currently at play within it.

Her song was cautious and short, and when she let it die down, she saw Zev watching her avidly.

"Well?" he asked. "What did you sense?"

She shook her head slowly. "Not much. I mean, there's a lot, but I couldn't identify much. I got a sense of plenty of creatures in the area, but nothing felt big enough to match these prints." She drew a deep breath. "I'm going to try the harder kind, where you ask the magic to tell you what happened rather than what's currently in place."

Zev looked lost, but she didn't try to explain to him. Instead she screwed up her eyes so that her normal senses wouldn't muddy the waters of what her magical sense was telling her. Then she sang soft and low, asking the magic to tell her the story of this patch of land.

Nothing.

Marieke opened her eyes, disappointed. She shouldn't be surprised. It was a complex area of magic, and she had no training. But she'd hoped the land would give her something , even if she didn't have the skill to properly decipher it. She met Zev's eyes reluctantly, disappointed to be unable to justify the faith she saw in them.

A memory flashed through her mind, from when they'd been cornered by Rissin and the other elves in the cave in Sundering Canyon. Zev had gripped her arm and told her that he knew she could do it, and the magic had instantly become more responsive to her.

"Zev," she said suddenly.

"Yes?"

"You believe in me, right?"

He blinked. "Of course I do."

"Can you…can you put your arm around me?"

Zev stared at her, and she fully expected him to ask for an explanation. But he didn't. He just shifted toward her, one strong arm sliding across her back and around her waist, pulling her in just enough so she sat snugly against him.

Marieke was already overheated from the humid air, and the contact only increased that sensation, but it wasn't off-putting. In fact, she was now at risk of a different kind of distraction.

Pulling herself together, she murmured her thanks before focusing back on her song. The magic here wasn't like the magic in Sundering Canyon—it was overwhelming in volume, but not chaotic and unpredictable—and it didn't pool around Zev or travel straight through the ground at her direction.

Still, as she raised her voice in a song, she could feel that the magic was more responsive to her now, in a way she couldn't describe. It just felt…happy with her. Cooperative and malleable. It was bizarre, but useful. An image flashed through her mind, of a dark and sleek shape traversing the same ground they now occupied, its movement silent in the sleepy jungle.

Marieke let out a gasp, her song stopping at once.

"A panther," she said. "It was a panther." She swallowed, nerves rippling over her. She'd seen a drawing of a panther in a book once—it was as close as she had any desire to get to one.

"A panther?" Zev's voice was low and serious, his grip around her waist tightening slightly. "Are they territorial hunters?"

"I think so," Marieke said. "But I don't know much about them."

"I don't want to find out the hard way," Zev said. "I don't think we should knowingly wander through its territory."

"I agree." Marieke deflated slightly. "We should turn back, shouldn't we?"

"I think it would be wisest," Zev agreed. "I'm not too proud to admit that I wasn't as prepared as I thought for the jungle. If we're aiming for the center, we have a fair way south still to go. Why don't we travel further on the road before trying again?"

Marieke nodded. "That makes sense."

She snuck a look up at Zev. He hadn't released her, and his eyes shifted down to hers. The still air felt even thicker all of a sudden as he pushed a wisp of wet hair back from her forehead.

"You really do have a lovely voice."

Zev's quiet declaration brought Marieke's lips curving into a smile.

"I'm glad, because it's the only one I have," she murmured.

Zev smiled, releasing her at last and casting another glance down at the panther tracks. "Come on. Let's not wait for it to sniff us out."

Marieke nodded agreement, and they turned back the way they'd come. It was disheartening to have wasted the time and effort, but at least the lighted marks made it easy to find their way back to the road. She breathed a sigh of relief when they passed back through the enchanted boundary. It was so much less overwhelming to the senses on the cultivated patch of ground.

They traveled south for the rest of the day, bypassing another village and camping just off the road again. They passed very few other travelers, each time redirecting into the undergrowth to avoid notice.

Marieke was exhausted by nightfall, but even though they were still within the magical boundary, it was hard to relax her mind enough for sleep. There was too much information crowding her senses.

"You can settle, Marieke," Zev said, after watching her toss and turn on her rolled out mat for several minutes.

He sat with his back to a tree, positioned between her and the road so that she was hemmed in by the magical boundary on one side and him on the other.

"I'll make sure all is clear before I go to sleep."

"You need rest, too," she reminded him. She decided not to mention that his proximity in the darkness was as much of a barrier to sleep as their environment.

"I know," he said. "I will rest. But you can relax. Nothing will harm you tonight, I swear."

Marieke didn't know how he could promise any such thing, but the confidence in his voice was comforting nonetheless. She drifted into sleep soon after, and woke to find Zev already up and serving up food from his pack.

Farmers.

Having already stepped off the road, they didn't return to it. They'd traveled a long way south the day before, and it was time to brave the jungle again. They struck out eastward, not talking as they both scanned their surroundings carefully with every step.

They'd barely walked ten minutes into the foliage, their progress painfully slow through the undergrowth, when Zev stopped, putting his hand against a tree and drawing a deep breath.

"Are you all right?" Marieke asked, alarmed. She'd never seen him need to catch his breath just from walking before .

He nodded, letting out a grunt as he gathered his voice. "I'll be fine. It's just…so much pressure." He pounded a fist to his chest, causing Marieke's alarm to grow.

"You can feel it, too? The aggressiveness of the magic?" It hadn't escaped her that the overwhelming intensity of the magic was even worse here than it had been last time they'd tried leaving the road.

Zev stared at her. "That's magic? Surely I can't feel magic the way you do. I never have before."

"Well, what does it feel like?" Marieke asked.

"Like pressure on my chest," Zev said. "Similar to shortness of breath."

Marieke frowned. "That's not how I'd describe the feel of the magic."

Zev straightened. "It's fine. I can handle it. Let's push on."

"I don't like it," Marieke said, keeping pace reluctantly as Zev kept walking. "What if it's killing you or something?"

Zev just made a dismissive noise. "I'm not so easy to kill."

The conversation died out as they navigated carefully around some kind of bog, but after another five minutes, Zev spoke again, his voice more cheerful.

"There, I knew it would just be a matter of adjusting. The pressure is already getting less intense."

Marieke realized he was right. The magic was becoming more contained, its surging power less insistent in its attempts to pour through her.

A moment later she realized why as they pushed their way through some vine-covered, low-hanging branches and emerged onto a wide, well-maintained path.

"There's another path?" Zev said, bewildered. "I thought there was only one main road through."

Marieke sighed. "It's not another one. It's the same one. "

"Are you sure?" Zev shot her a look. "What if this is a different road, made by the elves?"

"It's not." Marieke shook her head. "I recognize the boundary enchantment."

Zev frowned, and she understood his reaction. She could have sworn they'd continued in much the same direction for their whole walk. It was a surprise to find that they'd traveled in a loop.

"Come on," she said, striding back toward the foliage. "The bog must have turned us around more than we realized. Let's be more careful of our route this time."

Ten minutes later, they were back on the road, a sign pointing back toward a village they'd bypassed the day before.

"We've made no progress from where we started," Marieke said, disgruntled. "How is it possible for us to be back at this spot? I'm sure we didn't go through the same terrain that time as last time."

Zev didn't answer, just plunged back between the trees, his jaw set in determination.

For an hour they tried in vain to get deeper into the jungle, every attempt leading to the same result. Even the use of the lighted markings didn't help. They couldn't find them when they looked, yet their steps seemed always directed back the way they'd come.

"It's magic," Marieke concluded after the tenth attempt. "Some kind of magic is at work, stopping us from getting deeper into the jungle."

"Why would the boundary enchantment be operating that way here when it wasn't before?" Zev asked.

She shook her head. "I don't think it's the boundary enchantment. It's not any enchantment I can feel. It must be something more sophisticated."

She gasped as a thought seized her. "Something hiding its tracks. Remember how the elves can apparently make talismans that hide their own magic when they're used? Maybe this is another form of the same craft."

"You think it's the work of elves?" Zev asked. He considered it. "That would make sense, wouldn't it? If they're keeping their existence hidden, they'd have an interest in humans staying on the road." He raised an eyebrow at Marieke. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because if the elves don't want people exploring this part of the jungle, it must mean we're close!" she said. "Come on, we have to find a way around this redirecting magic."

She struck back out, but to no avail. Nothing they tried worked, and by noon, they were both disheartened and weary.

"Any fresh ideas?" Zev asked her.

"I'm all out," she said, groaning as she sat herself down on a boulder. "You?"

He sat down beside her, his expression thoughtful. "The only thing we haven't tried is asking for help."

"From the village back there?" Marieke asked doubtfully. "You think they might know about the elves after all?"

Zev shook his head. "From the elves."

"Sure." Marieke's tone was dry. "Once I find them, I'll be sure to ask for their help in finding them."

Zev grinned. "That's obviously not what I mean. Remember when you sent me a letter, right to my farm? I still have the map that shopkeeper sold us. What if we wrote a message on it and you used songcraft to send it eastward? Would it be turned back by the magic, do you think?"

"Hm." Marieke considered it. "It's an interesting idea. Definitely worth trying."

Zev pulled out the map, and Marieke wrote a clear, simple message, using the nearby signpost as a guide .

We are Marieke of Oleand and Zevadiah of Aeltas. We know of your settlement, and we seek an audience with your Imperator. You can find us on the main road, ten leagues south of the village of Firth.

"There," she said, studying it. "Straight to the point, and if it's intercepted by a human, it won't identify the intended recipients as elves."

"Do you know how to do a sending enchantment, or whatever the term is?" Zev asked.

"No," Marieke admitted. "I used an official message station last time. I can't send it to a particular recipient or location. But I can call some wind to carry it eastward. I think I have the required control to make the wind targeted and contained, so it can dodge its way through the trees for a decent distance at least."

"Well, it's better than I could do," Zev said with a shrug.

Marieke rolled up the parchment, casting her eyes around for something to tie it with. She eyed Zev for a moment, then tugged at one of the laces that dangled from the top of his tunic.

"Marieke," Zev said, his shocked tone not fooling her for a moment. "And here I thought I could trust you with my honor, alone in the jungle and at your mercy."

She rolled her eyes, even as she lowered her face to her task to hide the flush his words brought. "Oh, don't be ridiculous. Your tunic is already unlaced anyway."

"It's hot," Zev said by way of defense. "I can't breathe with it all laced up."

The thought flashed through Marieke's mind that she found it a little hard to breathe every time her eyes fell on the exposed part of Zev's chest, but she refrained from saying so. His ego was plenty healthy as it was, and she wanted to maintain some dignity, after all.

Having finished tying the parchment up with the lace, she cleared her throat and summoned magic to her. It surged eagerly through the ground, only too ready to take the offered outlet through her body.

Marieke formed her song with care, drawing on the ability to test the terrain that she'd learned in her agricultural songcraft. It didn't reveal much beyond a close radius, as she'd discovered in the morning's various attempts to penetrate the jungle, but it would help her give the parchment a good start.

She and Zev both watched as a light breeze stirred beneath her hand, lifting the rolled-up paper into the air and sending it drifting toward the trees. She kept singing for some time after it disappeared before eventually letting the song die. She could no longer sense where the paper was headed anyway. She would have to trust her enchantment to carry it as directed.

They made themselves as comfortable as they could, setting up a camp a little way into the trees and pulling out some food. They were just on the edge of the boundary, and even though they weren't fully outside it, she still noticed Zev rubbing near his heart from time to time. Her eyes were drawn to the gesture each time, but she didn't comment until they'd been sitting for a few hours.

"Are you uncomfortable?" She told her eyes not to linger on his exposed chest when he lowered his hand.

"I'd be more comfortable if you'd summon another breeze to cool me down," he said. "Can you do that?"

"Yes, I could. But it wouldn't last long."

"I don't know." Zev leaned back against his tree, the hint of a grin lifting one corner of his mouth as he crossed his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. "It would if you kept singing. You could serenade me and blow a nice wind over me until the elves show up."

She gave him a look that he couldn't see. "Shall I also feed you delicacies by hand while you recline at leisure, Your Majesty?"

There was an awkward edge to Zev's laugh, and he sat up straighter and opened his eyes.

"That won't be necessary."

Marieke studied his face, his loss of composure piquing her interest.

"You didn't like that joke," she commented. It wasn't a question, but her next words were. "Why not?"

With the question, she felt the magic in the ground increase in intensity, like the torrent was suddenly bubbling and boiling frantically underneath her rather than racing past.

"Whoa," she said. "Calm down."

"What?" Zev was leaning forward now, his cautious posture the opposite of what it had been before her quip. "What do you mean, calm down?"

"I was talking to the magic," Marieke said, not bothering to explain better. "It seems my question was…particularly pertinent."

Zev looked wary, and Marieke's suspicions swirled as frantically as the magic. She remembered his family's strange reputation and manner, and the way the magic reacted to him in the canyon. Not to mention Rissin's response to that phenomenon. The elf had been as interested in Zev as in her. More interested. And then there was that moment in the orchard, when the magic had seemed to tie them together, wrapping around Zev of its own accord in a way it had no business to when he couldn't channel it.

She opened her mouth to speak again, not entirely sure what she suspected, but feeling like she was on the cusp of a revelation. Then she saw something in his eyes, behind the apprehension.

Conflict.

He wanted to tell her everything he was hiding, but something held him back. And she'd already decided to be patient. She didn't want to pry him open now, like a knife to a walnut. She wanted him to open to her, like a flower responding to sunlight.

Her lips twitched at the image, and bewilderment joined the other emotions on Zev's face.

"What's funny?" he asked cautiously.

"Just my own thoughts," Marieke said, her voice light now. "I'm not sure you'd appreciate them." He still looked uncertain, so she pushed on, changing the topic. "Do you really want me to summon a breeze? I can if you like."

"No." Zev leaned back again, although he didn't regain his earlier carefree manner. "If you're singing, you can't talk, and I'd rather the conversation." He eyed her. "I am surprised how rarely you use songcraft for small conveniences like that, though. It's not what I expected. I imagined singers would use magic all the time to make their lives more comfortable."

"Some do," Marieke acknowledged. "But it's not really encouraged. One of the principles we learn early at the academy is that magic is a powerful tool, and our ability to wield it is not to be taken for granted or used lightly. They teach us that it's not through our own virtue that we were born with the ability to sing. The philosophy is that we shouldn't use that ability to increase our own privilege beyond what nature has already done, or we make the gulf between singers and non-singers wider than it needs to be. We're supposed to use magic to help others, and for substantial tasks that are genuinely worthwhile. Not for little things that make no material difference and only benefit us."

"Well." Zev's eyes had the intensity she always found so captivating as he searched her face. "That's a very different picture from the life I imagined singers to lead before I met you."

She shrugged. "I believe it. But that's the ideal that we're presented with. I'm not saying everyone lives up to it. In fact, many don't."

"But you do," Zev said.

"I try to." Marieke ran her finger through the dirt in a meaningless pattern, a little overwhelmed by his searching gaze.

"I confess I'm genuinely surprised that the academy teaches that kind of mentality, and the council supports it."

Marieke raised her eyes to his again. "I know what you think, Zev. And with what I've learned since we met, I can acknowledge that you have reason. But you don't see the full picture any more than I did before. The council's set up isn't perfect, and the structure makes it too hard for non-singers to have the voice they deserve to have. But in spite of that, I do believe that most of those on the Oleandan council and at the Oleandan academy mean well. They're trying their best for our country, and the vast majority of them aren't evil or power-hungry."

"But they do have power," Zev argued. "And that power is built on lies."

Marieke had no answer, but she didn't need one. A different voice, much higher in pitch than Zev's, responded for her.

"That's an interesting perspective."