Authors: Victoria Foyt
Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Science Fiction
“How are you, Father?”
“What? Fine.” He stared off at the nearby trees. “Just look at the amazing variety of flora. I imagine we could find a new species or two here.”
The gentle warrior returned with two coconut bowls full of white mushy liquid.
“Chicha,”
he said with smiling eyes.
“Gracias,”
her father thanked him and then tasted it. “Hmmm. Yucca plant. The women chew it up, mix it with water and then spit it out. It’s a complete and nourishing meal.”
Eden declined with a polite wave of her hand. Even if she could stomach the repulsive, sour smell, she doubted she could digest real food.
Her father frowned. “When you’re starving you’ll eat anything, Daught.”
Always the failed daughter
. She pressed her fingertips against her throbbing temples.
The Indian pointed to himself. “Lorenzo.”
He couldn’t have been much older than her. She liked his soft brown eyes, she decided.
“Eden,” she said, tapping her chest.
“El soroche.”
Lorenzo touched his temples and grimaced, as she must have. Then he reached into his pocket and offered them each a handful of small, oval, dark green leaves.
Eden noted the distinctive small circle they bore. “Coca leaves,” she said.
“Precisely, Daught.
Erythroxylum coca
. A traditional remedy for altitude sickness.” Her father’s short-lived approval disappeared, as she tucked the leaves in her backpack. “You’re supposed to chew them,” he said.
“But they’re dirty,” she whispered.
“What? That’s illogical. Your skin provides housing for millions of microbes. Without them you wouldn’t be able to fight any number of diseases.”
Lorenzo nodded, whether or not he understood, and told her how good the leaves were.
“Muy bueno.”
Eden responded with a pained shrug. Lorenzo simply smiled and left to join his tribesmen, who transferred supplies onto the canoes. A sinking realization hit her.
“We’re not going over water, are we?” she said.
“It appears so,” her father said.
“But I can’t swim! Neither can you.”
He chuckled. “Then don’t rock the boat, Daught.”
Her insides twisted, like a strand of DNA. Like any Pearl,
Eden was terrified of water, which had the power to expose. She never even had experienced swimming or any other bygone water sport on the World-Band. She’d rather die than ride in a canoe.
She clutched the backpack, hoping for a miracle. Now was her chance.
“I’ll just be over there,” Eden said, pointing towards a large trumpet tree. At her father’s quizzical look she added, “For privacy.”
“Hurry,” he said. “We must leave at once or wait until the next day.”
“Why?”
“Elementary. There are no lights here.”
Unable to absorb the concept of living by day, she gave him a blank look and then walked away. She struggled to form a little prayer as she stepped into the dark thicket.
Mother Earth, please, let me find salvation in this backpack
.
It was pointless, Eden knew. There was no omniscient power to substitute the objects that already lay inside the pack. Back home, she would have ridiculed any idea that violated the laws of physics.
But then, Eden never imagined she would have to survive by her wits alone, either.
E
DEN SQUINTED as she stepped into a shadowy grove, clutching the backpack to her chest. Sunrays strafed through a high canopy of trees, piercing dark pockets of vegetation below. The high contrast between dark and light made it difficult to see. Her eyes darted towards silvery specks that glinted, here and there, as if dozens of eyes watched her.
A monkey pant-hoot startled her and she looked up to find a troop of capuchin monkeys,
Cebus capucinus
, gathered in the branches. Somehow they didn’t look or sound like their World-Band Holo-Images. And how reverential they seemed with their caps of brown fur around solemn, light-colored muzzles. Now she understood why they were named for the ancient Capuchin Friars.
Eden knelt down, spilling the contents of the backpack onto the ground. Just as she thought, there was nothing special inside. A rain of empty seedpods fell on her, followed by the capuchin’s hysterical jeering.
So much for reverence
.
Eden waved her arms and hissed. “Go away.”
Instead, the bothersome pests renewed their assault.
She turned her back on them, hurrying now. She flipped the bag inside out and ran her hands over it. There, along the bottom, she found a bulge. New thread was stitched over the
seam. Her hopes soared as she ripped it open with her teeth. Something fell to the ground with a small
plink
.
Sweet Mother of Earth. A Life-Band. It was a standard flexible bracelet.
Thank you, Daisy
.
“Daught?” her father called out.
Any minute someone might come looking for her. Even Bramford.
Eden repacked the Life-Band and other items. As she stood up, pinpoint of lights danced in front of her eyes. She took a deep breath and, as her surroundings came back into focus, reached for the backpack. But it moved away. Confused, she tripped after it.
Then the bag flew into the air—in a monkey’s grasp. The nimble thief carried it onto a limb from which he and his conniving friends heckled her.
“Hey!” Eden shook her fist. “That’s mine.”
To her surprise, the thief drew back. The monkeys shrieked.
In the distance Bramford’s deep voice boomed like thunder. “Eden?”
The troop scampered away with the backpack—her salvation.
“No!” she cried.
She kicked off her heels and plunged into the forest after them without a second thought. She struggled to keep an eye on the red backpack, but unlike running at home on the World-Band, she actually moved forward. When she smacked into a tree limb, she fell down, more surprised than hurt.
In a panic, she heard Bramford’s pounding feet.
Don’t lose the bag, Eden. Stuck here if you do
.
She scrambled to her feet and ran ahead. Her head screamed with pain. Her legs felt like wet noodles.
“Stop, Eden!” Bramford said.
Only the monkey thief obeyed him and came to an abrupt halt. It swung the stolen bag into the air and sent it sailing. Eden had a sick feeling, as it spiraled over a steep cliff. She skidded to a stop and looked over the edge.
The backpack hung on a bush several yards down slope. Frothy white river rapids carved a serpentine path through a steep, narrow canyon below. If Eden fell she’d drown, or be pummeled to death on the rocks, or both. But she couldn’t think about that now.
She sidestepped her way down the incline, using large rocks as footholds. Don’t look down, she told herself, as she inched closer. Nerves on fire, she reached a spot above the bag. She hung onto a branch behind her and stretched forward, working the strap free. A little more and she would have it.
Pebbles skittered down the slope behind her, and she heard Bramford’s throttled roar, half curious, half menacing.
“What are you doing, Eden?” he said.
Why risk her life for a silly bag? Best to ignore him, she decided.
Determined, she yanked the pack free. She glanced uphill, terrified to find Bramford coming towards her. Like a fly trapped in a glass bottle, she batted back and forth, looking below for an escape route. Her hand slipped from the branch, as she twisted around. She dropped the backpack to find purchase but only grabbed thin air. With nothing to stop her, she plummeted through the air towards the raging river.
“Eden!” Bramford cried.
Her mind drew a blank. There was no time to wish for anything. Not even death.
To her relief, Eden hit the water feet first. At least, she thought that was lucky. As if luck might save her now.
The churning rapids pummeled her underwater until she lost all sense of direction. Her heart hammered like an anvil. Just when she thought her lungs would burst, something grabbed her from behind. Images of the lethal anaconda flashed through her mind. The giant monster propelled her to the surface, holding on tight, as Eden thrashed about, gasping for air.
“Relax, I’ve got you,” Bramford said.
Too shocked and too grateful to speak, she simply grabbed onto his arm around her chest. He kept her head above water, as the rapids carried them downstream. Ahead, Eden spied a series of large boulders. She screamed as they hurtled towards the first one.
Just in time, Bramford twisted her out of harm’s way by wedging himself between her and the rock. He vaulted them past the danger with his powerful legs. Over and over, he navigated the tortuous obstacle course. Twice, his legs slipped and he bashed against a huge rock.
And yet, he never let Eden slip from his grasp. She coughed and sputtered as she took in water. Numb with pain, her flailing legs struck the rocks underwater. But she was safe with him.
The current slowed as the canyon walls widened, carrying them into a calm lake. Panting hard, Bramford swam with one arm towards the shore, burdened by her dead weight.
When her foot scraped bottom, Eden tried to stand but her legs gave way.
Bramford dragged her onto land, coming to rest in the shade of a palm grove. Even half-dead, he had remembered to protect her from the sun. With a start Eden saw how necessary it was. Not a shed of her dark coating remained. The water had washed it all away. Finally, she didn’t care. She was just glad to be alive.
She collapsed onto the sand beside Bramford, her limbs intertwined with his. Her head rested on his chest, rising and falling with each labored breath. His warm chin brushed the top of her head. The rapid drumming of his heartbeat in her ear reminded her of the risks he’d taken.
Why on Blessed Earth had
El Tigre
saved her?
Eden shivered from the wet, clinging dress, or maybe the fear lodged in her spine. She snuggled closer to Bramford. For warmth, she told herself. He didn’t protest, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be wrapped in each other’s arms on a sunny day in the wilderness.
Of course, Eden knew it wasn’t natural, though she had a hard time convincing herself at that moment. She couldn’t deny how good it felt to lie beside his strong body, which grounded her like a ship’s anchor. Exactly, she thought, delighted to grasp the outmoded concept. For the first time since she’d left home, she didn’t feel adrift in a rocky storm.
Eden brushed her cheek against Bramford’s chest and he made a soft, vibrating sound. Was he purring? He tightened his arms around her, rolling her against him. Her long golden hair fanned over his dark torso, the contrast startling her. She never had felt more exposed in her life.
At the same time, a curious, buoyant feeling welled up inside of her. Eden had experienced some pleasure with Jamal, although her sensors had manufactured it. She always had been in control, never losing sight of her goal to be mated.
Now, she felt captive to the strange, pleasurable sensations that stampeded like wild horses up and down her body. She never wanted to leave Bramford’s side. Amazingly, her abysmal circumstances and even the loss of her Life-Band suddenly seemed trivial.
Unpredictable, her father had called this beastly man. But he hadn’t warned her how unpredictable
she
would be.