I wake up with a throbbing ache in my left arm and a blinding sun above me. I groan and close my eyes again, willing the pain to go away. The humidity and smell of salt linger in the air, calling me back to sleep. But then I hear a rustle to the side of me, and I immediately bolt up as the realization hits me. I'm on an island, with four complete strangers, and I could take my last breath at any second.
"Morning, Sunshine," a voice says to my left, and I can't help but glare at the figure.
He's built in the athletic way only Dynasty One children are, with deep, rough skin and long hair. He looks of Puerto Rican descent, and his eyes blaze a ferocious golden yellow.
"Who are you?" I snap, my voice coming out harsher than I wanted.
Luckily, the boy only grins at my abrasiveness. "Veyr Reed," he responds, running his fingers through his hair. "You?"
"Elara Lovejoy," I answer, glancing around.
I am seated about fifty feet from the shoreline, and water stretches out as far as I can see. To my left and right lie miles of more sand, but to my back sit thousands of Ceiba trees. The trunks are as thick around as my wingspan, and they stretch out as far as I can see.
I reach out to stretch my legs and notice that my dress has been replaced with olive green cargo pants and lace-up black leather boots. My ankle cuff has been loosened to the point where it fits over my boot, and I'm dressed in a plain black t-shirt. I am mortified to realize that even my bra was replaced by an athletic one of the Regime's design. I don't know what's worse, the fact that Kaylani must have seen me nude or that I'm dressed head to toe in the Regime's handmade apparel.
"You've got some drool," a drawling voice rings out, "right on your left cheek."
I whirl my head around and see three other figures; two complete strangers, and the other a boy who's image I could never erase from my mind. Nico Fawks stands awkwardly to the side, a slight grimace etched on his tanned face.
I almost let out a sob; the chances of me and Nico being placed in the same squad were close to one in one hundred, yet here he is, standing before me. I scamper up but immediately topple back over, my vision growing fuzzy again.
"Careful, Sunshine," Veyr coaxes, lifting my small body out of the sand. "The effects don't quite wear off all at the same time, just ask Ziana over there."
A tall and strikingly beautiful African-American girl stands in the center of the threesome, a scowl presented on her face. Her dark brown hair is worn in dozens of tiny braids threaded with small artificial daisies. It's pretty, but a bit much for an island where you'll be fighting for your life.
She stands taller than Nico by a few inches, and I am immediately intimidated by her presence. Not only does she look like a goddess, but she holds a grace that I could only dream of having. I notice the tension between us before it's even begun.
"Ziana Finley," she says, crossing her arms as she catches me staring. "That's Elias," she points to a scrawny Japanese looking boy with dark hair that covers his face. His eyes are cold and calculating, and I instantly have an uneasy feeling about him. "And the one that looks like you over there is-"
"Nico," I choke out, my voice breaking. I never thought I'd see him again, yet here he is. If we survive, we never have to part paths again. I can finally let myself imagine a future, one where we grow old together, housing in some neighboring cabins, the bond between us never fading.
"You two know each other?" Veyr asks, inquisitively.
"We-" I start, but Nico cuts me off.
"We grew up in the same Dynasty," he replies coldly. "Worked in the fields together occasionally, that's all."
I open my mouth to argue, but he lowers his gaze and I pause. If this is how he wants his little game to go, I'll play along.
I look back at Elias, only to find him twirling a knife in his fingers.
"Who gave him that?" I snap.
"He woke up first, he found everything," Veyr says, dangling a small velvet pouch which I assume must be waterproof. "I've got the matches, and Nico over there has the other knife."
I look at Nico only to find the dagger placed carefully in his belt holster.
"Of course, we girls can't be trusted to hold anything of value," Ziana complains, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
"You and Elara woke up last, and we had already divided the items. We can figure it out later," Nico responds calmly. "But we need to find a water source, and we've already wasted half a day."
I feel myself growing worried of the tension that's already begun in the squad. Veyr, although laid back, seems to have taken the leadership role of the group, as I suppose it's his nature with him being from the First Dynasty. Nico looks to be the voice of reason, and I suspect if anyone will be able to hold the squad together, it'll be him.
"So what do you suggest, your excellency?" I quip. "Split up or search as a group?"
Veyr just glares at me. "Split into two groups, that way we can cover more ground but be safe at the same time," he suggests. "Nico, Elias, and Ziana can go to the left side of the island and me and you can search the other half. We meet back here before sunset. Any objections?"
I have to bite my lip to keep myself from announcing my suspensions of Elias; I don't want him alone with anyone in our squad, especially with Nico, but I have a better idea.
"Elias, give me your knife," I order, stretching my hand out. By disarming him, I take away any chance he has of hurting Nico or Ziana. He's too scrawny to do anything by force, especially if Nico has a dagger to defend himself with.
Elias just shoots me a glare. "Why?" he questions, his voice as cold as his dark eyes.
"That way if something goes wrong Veyr and I can protect ourselves," I explain, flashing a smile.
"You don't trust me," Elias says, cocking an eyebrow.
I was right about him being intelligent, and I don't doubt that I'm wrong to feel uneasy about him. The way his mind is whirring as we speak just strengthens my concern that he's a hundred times smarter than any of us.
"Fine then," I snap. "You go with Veyr and take Ziana with you. I'll go with Nico."
I glance over in Veyr's direction and find him opening his mouth to object, but he closes it. Ziana just looks miserable, and her frown is like a dark cloud that hangs over her face.
"You'd be a lot prettier if you smiled," I chide, not holding my tongue.
"You'd be a lot prettier if you did something about that attitude," she fires back as she glares at me. "The boys don't find it amusing."
With that, she saunters off, and Veyr and Elias follow quickly on her heels like strays.
I immediately whirl around to confront Nico when they're out of earshot.
"Why did you lie about us?" I interrogate.
"I don't need to give them a reason to target us," Nico explains, not meeting my glare. "Then knowing we have a bond will only draw them closer together and us apart from the rest of the group. It's in our best interest."
"Really?" I ask, my face growing hot, thoughts ablaze. "Or is it because you can't come to terms that you have to see me again after you did last night?"
Although he might not have thought about it, what he did was the cause of another sleepless night. I found myself kept awake by the thought of a thousand possible scenarios, one where we lived in a world where we were promised a future. Would he have pulled anything with me sooner, or not anything at all? I don't know which one hurts more, the thought of never having something that could've been brilliant, or being the source of his deepest regret.
Nico turns back to face me, halting his walk. "What I did that night was a mistake. My head wasn't thinking straight," he growls. "I just needed to make sure I didn't leave anything unsaid in case I never saw you again."
I stay quiet, my mind fuming with thoughts and my heart too furious at him to say anything at all. Instead, I storm off in the opposite direction of the others, trying to reach the bend of the island. I don't look back to check if Nico is following behind me, and there are no noises that give him away. The only break in the silence is the crashing of the waves and the rustle of thousands of trees in the strong ocean breeze.
As I continue towards the west side of our landing spot, I notice that the beach comes to a sharp point before gradually losing itself to a desert of clay littered with vibrant green shrubs. I almost cheer with glee, but I don't let myself get too excited. Although luscious plants mean a water source is most certainly nearby, there's no way the Regime made finding water this simple.
Sure enough, as soon as I round the bend and step foot into earth rather than sand, the metallic scent of blood enters the air, overwhelming my nostrils.
Nico notices it too, and he speeds up to match my own pace. His shadow gives him away, and I watch as the warped outline of his figure approaches my own.
"What is that?" I choke out, gagging on the foul smell.
"The first obstacle," Nico just deadpans, pulling his shirt over his nose.
We move forward with caution. I hold the knife pointed out in front of me while Nico trails behind, both of us still gagging on the air. As we move another mile or so down the island, the shrubbery becomes so thick I can't see my feet underneath me. I silently thank the Regime for giving us thick boots; who knows what venomous creatures lurk concealed in the leaves.
As we grow farther away from the landing spot, the scent of blood grows thicker until I have to force in every breath. I'm painfully aware of every time my lungs expand and contract, the smell of rotting flesh entering my body with who knows what other contaminants.
Nico grabs my arm forcefully, and I instantly shake him off. He may be my best friend, but I'm nowhere near in the mood to forgive him, at least not now.
"Look," he groans, the aggravation clear in his voice.
I follow his arm to his outstretched finger and squint in the direction of the jungle. At first, I notice nothing but the abrupt shift from shrub to trees, but then I see a ripple in the shrubs, and I realize what it is.
Water.
The pool is the size of a large pond and ovular, stretching like a barrier between the jungle and the beach. The water has a sinister serenity to it, and as we approach, the images it reflects only become clearer, as does the smell of rotting meat.
"It's the water," I breathe to myself.
The Regime must have tampered with the source somehow, but by poison or by other means I'm unsure of. Leave it to them to destroy our chances of survival with a poison I doubt anyone has encountered before.
I crouch down to inspect the water and find the face of a scrappy teenager staring back at me. All the makeup has been scrubbed off of my face, probably by Kaylani on the way here, and dried drool lines my cheek. I forcefully scrub it off, embarrassed that I didn't listen to Ziana earlier.
I look more mature than I did just five hours ago, but I blame it on the excessive sunlight. My cheeks are red and are already showing a risk of burning, which I find strange because my skin rarely ever blisters. Years of fieldwork under harsh conditions change even the palest of children, and those from Dynasty Four are known for their tolerance of extreme weather.
I put the knife out to disturb the water, making sure not to touch any of the liquid with my bare skin. The water is definitely not just water, and I have no idea what it could do to me.
But it reacts with the dagger the same as regular water would, sliding smoothly over the blade and sending out a rippling effect. I watch as contorted tree trunks shift and sway in the disturbance as if they were in a defective mirror.
"So I guess we bring the others here," Nico says. "See if they have any idea what to do about the whole situation."
I don't answer him, not exactly angry at the fact that he kissed me in the first place, but more so that I was used as a lie and that he sprung his actions on me. Did he not realize that if our paths had diverged for good I would constantly be kept awake at night with thoughts of what could have been? But I shake the anger from my head, I'm fighting for my life; I have more important things to worry about than immature men.
***
As I suspected, the landing place is empty when we return back. Our walk to the pool took maybe two hours, and we have another full hour give-or-take until the sun begins it's decline. My brain is overwhelmed by how much we need to do, and I find myself struggling with what to do first. We don't have food, shelter, fire, or any idea of the layout of the island, but at least we found water, even if it is poisonous.
I'm tempted to go out in the ocean and see if I can find any small crustaceans or fish to try to spear with the dagger. I know Nico would advise against it, so that's exactly why I decide to do it.
I kick my boots off, forcing the cuff to fall uncomfortably loose around my ankle, and roll up the cargo pants to my knees. Sand instantly sticks to my bare feet, marking just how sweaty I was. I walk cautiously towards the water, observing the sand for any signs of animal carcasses. But the shoreline is bare, and I immediately grow discouraged.
The waves crash relentlessly against the sand, sending particles tumbling into the froth. My bare ankles rock back and forth in the current, and I can tell it wouldn't be safe to venture so much as waist-deep in the water. The Regime most likely designed it that way, to keep us caged in like animals.
I almost yelp when I feel the tickling sensation of tiny claws scurry along the tops of my feet. Squinting to see through the disturbed sand, I notice the tiny body of a fragile hermit crab tumbling uncontrollably through the water. I reach my arm in forcefully to scoop him up, but he gets pulled back out with the next incoming wave.
I let out a sigh knowing that I may have lost my only chance at food for the night to a current. I take another few steps in, shivering slightly as my body adjusts to the cool water. The salt leaves the skin on my hand uncomfortably sticky as it dries almost instantly in the hot sun.
I wade out a little farther, almost out to my knees, and focus my attention on the seafloor. The further out I go, the more it is littered with large hole-ridden rocks, the perfect hiding place for small creatures.
I place my hands on the rock, only to recoil at its texture. Rather than being hard and rough, it feels more like a sponge. I press my hands down to attempt to move it, but they only slide deeper into the mossy substance. The motion sends hundreds of tiny critters flying into the ocean, their small claws snapping as they attach to my skin.
I let out an uncontrollable snort as the millions of microscopic claws tickle my legs. I stick my hands back in the waves and scoop up a handful of the creatures. They look like miniature versions of the hermit crabs from earlier, except more vibrantly colored and with more appendages. My breath is taken away as they instantly expand in the air, almost doubling in size as the oxygen bloats their limbs. They let out sharp squeals of pain and I instantly drop them back into the water, where they paddle away to disappear back into the sponge.
I shift the dagger back into my left hand and cut a small piece of the sponge rock, shaking the creatures out before lifting it back out of the water. Carefully I inspect it; rubbery, a greenish-gray color, and very easy to pull apart. I wonder whether it's edible, as the small crabs must be getting their nutrients from it.
I vaguely see movement out of the corner of my eye, and I squint to make out the source. A tortoise-like reptile slithers its way towards the sponge-rock, it's leathery golden hue blending in almost perfectly with the sand. It lacks a shell, but the skin looks tough and protective, and I wonder if I'll be able to penetrate it with my dagger.
I watch unmoving as it approaches the rock, opening its jaws to gnaw off a small chunk, revealing a sharp claw-like beak. It appears to be slow and harmless neglecting its maw, and I plan my attack. The underside of its neck seems soft, as with most animals, and I decide to aim my knife there. I move with the speed of a viper, swiftly uppercutting the animal on the underside of its jaw. My knife digs into the reptile's throat, and I rip it out, sending a trail of blue blood dispersing into the water.
The animal moves towards me with a speed that tells me that it doesn't quite care that it's bleeding lethally out of its neck. I brace myself as it barrels towards me, and I point the blade outwards. It latches around my ankles at the same time my weapon connects with its skull.
I shriek out in pain as the beak clamps into my skin, but I feel the tension ease up as I drive the blade deeper into the bony head. Black spots threaten my vision, but I bite the inside of my cheek to distract myself from the pain.
I bend over to pick the lifeless tyrant out of the ocean, only to see a mixture of mine and the creature's blood spiraling through the water, surely alerting other predators nearby.
I drag the nearly two-foot-long creature by the neck, hobbling through the water as every step sends a shooting pain through my entire leg. I spiral into worry as I feel it go numb, and I hope the bite wasn't poisonous. I just have to get back to the landing spot and reach the others, and hopefully, they'll know what to do. My thoughts are fuzzy though, and as I continue through the water, I'm painfully aware that this was not a good time to get hurt. Not even a day into my stay here, and I already could be facing a crippling injury.
I land on the sand breathless, tears threatening my vision as the pain shoots through my body like thousands of large needles. I collapse onto the ground, only slightly aware of the voices.
"She's hurt!" a male, I think Veyr, calls out. "And she's got food, I think."
I hear footsteps and I sit up, inspecting the damage. A large wound nearly the size of my palm sits right on the base of my ankle. It's not deep, but the dark purple bruise that already surrounds it makes me worry that the pure force of the animal's jaw might have shattered the bone; at the very least sprained it.
Nico is the first one to get to me, and his voice is riddled with disapproval. "This is what you get for venturing off by yourself," he scolds, hands moving my leg towards him. "You should've known better."
Veyr is next, followed by Elias. One look to my right and I can tell that Ziana couldn't be bothered to come.
"What is that thing?" Veyr asks, his voice tainted by worry.
"It's one of the Regime's designs," Elias tells him. "An animal produced to resemble something between a snapping turtle and a manatee."
"Is it poisonous?" I ask between gritted teeth.
"Not at all," he says, bending down to inspect my ankle. "But its jaws are powerful enough to snap straight through bone. Luckily enough for you, you merely encountered a baby."
"That thing is a baby?" I groan, the pain in my ankle still immense.
"They grow to be as big as an adult human," Elias informs. "The adolescents can't shatter bones. You probably have a small fracture or sprain, though."
"Great," I growl. "Anyways, I brought you supper. And we found water."
Elias arches an eyebrow, and Veyr pipes up, a smile lighting up his face. "Well that's good, seeing as all we discovered is trees and more trees."
Elias's face darkens; it's funny how the two contrast each other. While Veyr is the sun, Elias is the night; dark and treacherous. "Of course there's some catch, I presume?"
"Blood water," Nico spits, crossing his arms. "Any idea of how to make it drinkable, Einstein?"
Elias recoils at the nickname, and I can tell he doesn't like the spotlight. Teenagers like him like to be alone, fueled only by their constant hunger for knowledge. "I'll have to go look."
"I'll come with you," I spit, once again not trusting him alone with Nico. He may have told me about the turtle creature, but he didn't do that to build a bond with me. He only said something to show he was valuable to the group in some way. Elias knows as well as I do that if you're seen as bettering the group's chance of survival, you score points with the Regime and won't get killed off by your teammates.
"Don't be stupid," Nico scolds. "You need to take care of that ankle. Veyr knows something about that, he's been training his whole life to be a soldier."
I eye Veyr up and down; he doesn't look like any soldier I've ever seen. Long hair, bad posture, and a jokester personality doesn't exactly bump you up in rankings.
I attempt to stand up and show the others that I'm alright, but I can't put any weight on my ankle, and I immediately hop to the side.
"Let's go, Sunshine," Veyr snips, offering his shoulder to me.
I wrap my arms around him and hop back to the direction of our camp, if you could even call it that. With no water or food collection, no firewood, and no shelter, it's nothing but a disturbed pile of sand.
"We should go look for firewood," I groan. "It'll keep the animals away since we don't have shelter."
"And we can brutally scorch the monster that just took out your ankle," he jokes.
***
"What's wrong with you?" Ziana snaps as we hobble over to the camp.
"Got her ankle snapped by this old thing," Veyr says, throwing the creature down at her ankles. "Go find me some big leaves, please."
Ziana just groans, but she gets up begrudgingly.
"Take the knife," I say, dropping it to the ground.
She picks it up, and I notice how she admires the blade in her hands. No doubt she feels the same sense of power that I do when I wield it. She saunters off to the edge of the jungle to hopefully find some intact leaves to use as a wrap.
Veyr lays me down in the sand and props my ankle up, inspecting it like he's a professional doctor. I can tell instantly he doesn't have any more of a clue of what to do than I do. He makes me move my ankle pointlessly around, and although the pain is still intense, I can get through it if I grit my teeth.
"Well, I'd say it's not broken," Veyr says blankly. "When Ziana comes back with the leaves I'll try to bandage it up; create a brace. That I did learn how to do in training camp."
"Training camp?" I ask.
"For the army," he explains. "We have to go through basic training when we turn twelve. They start us young, that way if we make it back to the Dynasty they don't have to waste time going over it again. If not, well, it's a leg up for the Trigger."
"Lucky you," I say, sarcasm dripping in my voice.
Ziana comes back to the camp, two elephant leaves larger than my head in her hands. The deep red of her shirt only compliments her skin tone, and she seems to glow in the soon to be fading light.
"Thanks," Veyr chides, flashing a toothy grin.
He takes the teardrop-shaped leaves and rips them from the stem, turning them into thick strip-like bandages. He folds them over my ankle, hiding the scabbing blood behind a blanket of green. Veyr clumsily wraps it over the pressure points, creating a poorly executed brace. Taking the next leaf, he repeats the same process, strengthening his contraption. He pulls the stem through a leaf, and I wonder how in the world it'll stay in place if I need to do anything more than hobble around.
"Are you sure it's going to stay in place?" I question, voice filled with doubt.
"No," he chirps honestly. "But it'll stay on until morning. It can only help."
I shrug my shoulders, hoisting myself up onto my feet. Surprisingly, the brace does support the damaged bone. It doesn't eliminate the pain completely, but it distracts from it.
"Thanks," I tell him.
"Think of this as payment for the food," he says, nodding to the limp body as he pulls out the pouch containing the matches. "Now let's go get some firewood and skewer this shish kabob."
***
The meat of the creature is tough and chewy, but anything at this moment could appease my growling stomach. The fire crackles briefly nearby, and the others sit around the flames, dancing shadows cast on their faces.
While Nico took Elias to the blood pool, Veyr and Ziana ventured into the woods to collect brush, leaving me useless at the camp. I was ordered not to move, so I spent the duration of my time attempting to skin the reptile with a sharp stone I found nearby. I wasn't sad to part with the dagger at first, but now I watch with jealousy as Ziana stares numbly at the reflection in the blade. I don't say anything about her tear-stained cheeks, but they don't go unnoticed.
The animal's hide is propped up by two sticks, hopefully drying enough to become something of use. The edges of where the stone ripped the skin are messy and jagged, but it makes do. A pile of firewood is littered next to me, as is the velvet pouch, which now only contains two matches. Now that we have a fire, we have to be careful not to let it out, as we only have room for two mistakes.
"The water is contaminated by Bloodrot plants," Elias says, drawing my mind back to the conversation that I've been trying to tune out for the past several minutes. "It's fairly easy to treat, we just need to boil it over the fire while stirring in some of our own blood."
My face twists with disgust, as do all the others.
"You're not cutting me open," Ziana growls, her grip on the knife tightening.
"You can use my ankle," I offer, although it makes my stomach uneasy. The thought of someone ripping open the tender skin makes me want to throw up my dinner.
"No," Nico objects, "you need to heal, cutting you open won't help anyone. We can scratch my arm and drip some in the water tomorrow."
"I'm thirsty," Ziana complains. "How long will it take?"
"Well," Elias mumbles, "it depends how quickly you can craft a container to boil the water in."
"No one here can weave a leak-proof basket," Veyr announces. "They don't exactly teach soldiers to sew."
"I can," Ziana reveals, smiling for the first time since arriving on the island and revealing a small gap between her front two teeth. "I'm from Five, weaving was my family's specialty."
"Elara can help you while the rest of us gather wood. Any chance the artisan can build a shelter?"
"She can," Ziana beams, tucking a braid behind her ear.
I scrunch my eyebrows, not particularly sold on spending the entirety of the next day with a girl who's happiness depends on how much attention she's getting from the group.
***
Veyr throws an ample amount of wood on the dying embers, determined not to let it go out while we sleep.
"We take shifts," he orders, "I'll stay up first, but everyone needs to be prepared to move at a moment's notice."
We all drowsily shake nods of agreement before lumbering off in our separate directions. Unsure of where to go, I curl up next to the fire, the sand cold against my bare cheek. I hear footsteps to my right and wonder briefly if it's Nico and he's come to watch the stars with me like old times. Instead, I notice as he stands awkwardly for a few moments before walking back to his own side of the camp.
A small pang of sorrow hits me square in the chest, but I shake it off. Our tension will fall apart eventually, as all things do when you're fighting for your life.
I glance up at the stars only to find that they are very few and far between. The occasional few are scattered across the universe like small freckles, as patternless and miscellaneous as Nico or my own's.
The sound of crickets lull me to sleep, and when I wake up again, it's Ziana pushing me awake. The silver dagger glimmers in her hand, reflecting the moon's light. Her honey eyes are wild and puffy, and I wonder briefly whether she's been crying again. She sets the weapon at my feet and moves closer to me.
"Wake Nico up when you feel yourself get tired," she croaks, visibly exhausted. "Don't try to tough it out, either."
I just nod my head, my mind still fuzzy from sleep. I force myself up, sand leaving my clothing as a tingling sensation runs up my legs like thousands of tiny bugs; the sign of my body waking.
I take a step towards the fire, completely forgetting about my ankle. It hits the sand a little too hard, and I curse rather loudly. Luckily enough, the only one stirring seems to be Ziana, but the bags under her eyes suggested she'd be out in no more than a few minutes.
The night air has grown cool and I find myself shivering despite the warmth of the fire. The light dances along the sand, sending brilliant flickering shadows cascading across the ground.
I am alert for the first ten minutes of my shift, occupying myself with studying my sleeping group members. Veyr lays the closest to me, and his soft snores blend crisply into the symphony of chirping crickets. Meanwhile, Nico rests to his right, limbs sprawled out like an insect. Ziana rustles occasionally, but I can't tell whether she's just an active sleeper or if she's struggling to escape out of consciousness. Elias sleeps near her, stiff and still, his chest barely rising and falling.
I tighten my grip around the hilt of the knife, the sharp blade begging to be dulled. The urge to move hits me like a punch to the gut and my curiosity begs for me to explore the jungle. While everyone else has already been in it, I've been stuck on the beach.
I scan the sand, but despite the waves, there's no movement. Exploring for a quarter-hour couldn't hurt, especially when nothing has attacked yet. If an animal wanted to kill us, it would've shown itself by now. No creature is smart enough to plan an attack, even ones genetically engineered by the Regime.
I slink away from the fire like a rodent, my curiosity making me ignore the stinging sensation in my foot. I tread tightly, trying not to disrupt anyone's sleep. Thankfully enough, the sand absorbs most of the sound from my footsteps and any rustling of my clothes is drowned out by the crickets.
I venture further down the beach until I'm at the edge of the jungle. My curiosity tugs at me, the calling to the forest luring me in. I take a deep breath, reposition the knife in between my fingers, then take a step into the dark unknown.
The world transforms instantly around me. Thousands of fireflies hang from the trees and vines like tiny string lights, flittering around as they illuminate the jungle. On the floor, bioluminescent fungi create a soft glow, and I marvel in the eerie beauty. Huge trees trunks sprout with hardly three feet of space between each one, their gnarly roots erupting out of the floor as if they were Mother Nature's booby traps.
I take a few steps forward, the beauty drawing me in further as if I were in a trance. I don't register movement behind me until a solid hand clamps around my arm, dragging me out.
"What are you doing?" Nico spits out. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to go in there in the first place, let alone by yourself at night?"
"I was just looking around. I thought I heard something," I lie.
"So you wake the rest of us up," he growls. "You don't go off by yourself."
"Stop acting like you're my parent," I retort, eyes blazing in the moonlight. His own are boring maliciously into mine, but I don't back down. "I'm not your child, I'm not little anymore, and I sure as hell don't need you telling me what to do."
"The point is is that you're reckless, Elara. You could've been hunted and killed off by some mutant creature, or lured it back to us. And you left the rest of us vulnerable. You could've come back to a bloodbath; all of us dead, and it would've been your fault. Yours. Not mine, not Veyr's, not Ziana's, not Elias's," he takes a breath. "You really need to start thinking about someone other than yourself."
I stare in disbelief at him. He's unbelievable, calling me selfish. Since the day my parents cast us to the side I've been working to feed his family and my own. I never had time to be a child, I never had the chance to not be responsible. Yes, he was always more grown-up than me, but I was braver. Anyone else wouldn't wander into the woods to find extra food or trinkets to sell at the markets.
"You want to know what I think?" I murmur, ready to hit him with words that will throw him into flames. "I think that you're just upset because you ruined your chance with the only person who's ever been your friend."
He opens his mouth to object, but I shut him up.
"You're upset because you took a chance; the only chance you've ever taken in your life, mind you, and it backfired. You didn't want to see me again after that, but here I am. And you have to live with the fact that I'll never forget that moment, and neither will you. You have to deal with the uncertainty—"
"That's not what this is about, Elara."
"Than what is it about?" I cry, tears threatening my vision. I want to punch myself because now is not the time to cry; now is not the time to show weakness.
"I'm worried about you because I love you."
I roll my eyes, but I know it's almost impossible for him to see. The light is shining down on his face, not mine, and I can see every small wrinkle. His eyes are a stormy sea of rage and hurt, and I know I'm the frail boat that's about to be taken down with it.
"Maybe you do," I reply numbly. "But I have more important things to worry about than relationships. I'm not letting something as silly as hormones stop me from surviving."
Nico just looks at me, his eyebrows scrunched in thought. "It's not going to stop the way I feel about you," he says. "And it's not just because you're the only girl I've so much as talked to since I was seven. You're like family to me, Lara, I don't want to lose you."
"Let me give you some advice," I fire. "Don't confuse friendship with love, Nico, they're two very different things."
I walk back towards the fire, head fuming.
"You've got next shift."