Chapter 03 — Azure Death

Traveling with Hanz was trying to say the least. Their alliance, forged in battle against the horned beast, still felt as fragile as a spring sprout. And yet, Zuberi had the impression he alone realized this. He moved with predatory efficiency, senses alert to the jungle's myriad dangers, the rustling undergrowth, the strange melodic calls from the canopy, the air's latent hum that reminded him of his earlier crystalline refuge. Hanz, by contrast, stumbled like a startled deer through dry brush, muttering, kicking roots, and casting paranoid glances into the deeper shadows.

The man offered unwelcome commentary at every turn. He questioned the tracking, "You sure we should be following space-rabbits right now?" When Zuberi assessed water sources, Hanz urged, "Just drink it, man! What's the worst that could happen?" He mocked Zuberi's mapping attempts, "We lost, tribal king?"

The two small moon-fur rabbits Zuberi had caught earlier would not last them long. These tracks, prints of a similar creature, promise of potential sustenance, were a necessary risk. Hanz's eyes kept darting off, showing distrust and a hint of fear, glancing at Zuberi at regular intervals, as if to make sure he was there.

They followed the animal tracks deeper into the jungle. Zuberi, aware of their dwindling supply, hoped the trail might lead to water. The jungle pressed in close, a living wall of vegetation that breathed with its own rhythm. The air hung thick with humidity, carrying layers of scent, the cloying sweetness of unseen blossoms overlaid with the mineral tang of strange fungi and the buzzing ozone smell unique to this world. Giant ferns, leaves like serrated blades edged with bioluminescent patterns, brushed against them and left damp trails that flared into a glow on contact and quickly faded away. He pushed aside a broad, purple leaf that hummed with a subtle vibration, its intricate metallic veins pulsing with the same geometric patterns he'd seen in the crystal formations. Even the soil beneath their feet felt alive, releasing puffs of spores that drifted upward like tiny, phosphorescent jellyfish when disturbed.

Suddenly, Hanz froze and tilted his head to the side. "Hear that?"

Zuberi strained his ears against the jungle's hum, tuning out noises small animals made as they scurried away from predators. There. A wet, racking cough followed by a low groan of misery echoed through the humid air.

Familiar. Close. Human.

Before Zuberi could urge caution, Hanz had bolted into a sprint toward the sound, the mass of shadows appearing to lag before snapping back to him.

Zuberi cursed. Impulsive fool! This stranger lacked the stealth of a hunter born to the wild. Rushing headlong towards unknown sounds like a panicked goat, he would get them both killed. Yet, abandoning Hanz felt wrong, like leaving a child in the path of a raging storm. The man couldn't fend for himself. Responsibility, heavy and unwelcome, urged Zuberi onward. With a heavy sigh, he tightened his grip on his spear and followed, moving swiftly, silently, compensating for the noise Hanz made, as if that would matter.

He stepped into a small clearing where the air was dense and carried an inexplicable weight. A mossy carpet covered the ground, its surface shifting colors like oil on water where their feet disturbed it, releasing tiny clouds of spores that danced in the humid air. A cluster of vibrant, blue-leafed bushes dominated the space, their branches twisting in angular shapes that should be impossible for plants. The bushes were laden with plump, azure berries that pulsed with an entrancing inner light, their translucent skin reflecting fractals of color like liquid light and coated with a substance that looked like water condensing on a cold surface. Zuberi's stomach sank in a sickened twist as soon as he laid eyes on the berries.

Sprawled awkwardly at the base of the bushes, half-hidden among angular branches that reached toward her as if to pull her inside an invisible mouth, a figure lay curled, body wracked by retching spasms. Thin lines of near-transparent vomit stained the moss, whose shifting hues spread outward as they faded in and out with soft glows.

Hanz stood frozen steps away, his indifferent attitude gone. His eyes were wide, riveted on the figure, his face paling beneath the freckles. "Lisa?" The name escaped him in a choked whisper, as if the air refused to carry the sound.

Zuberi frowned, approaching with caution. He took in the scene with a tracker's practiced eye. A young woman, older than Hanz but younger than Zuberi. The clothes on her back were closer to those Hanz wore than Zuberi's robes, though with an obvious feminine twist. Sweat plastered strands of short fiery red hair to her forehead. Her locks had the same vibrant shade as Zuberi's recent companion, but with a softer wave to them. And, also like Hanz, her face was pale with a scatter of freckles. Despite the pain visible in her gritted teeth, her jaw remained set, chin raised high, unyielding.

Poisoned. Zuberi identified the signs at once, before he noticed the half-eaten cluster of azure berries near her clenched hand. The protective way she curled around herself, even half-conscious, spoke of someone used to self-sufficiency.

Another rattling cough shook her. Slowly, with pained grunts, likely aware she was no longer alone, she pushed upright, leaning against a nearby tree trunk. Her eyes fluttered open, large, startlingly green, unfocused and glazed with pain and disorientation. She blinked, her gaze drifting past Hanz before landing on Zuberi.

The little color that remained on her face bled away as she took in his appearance. "Who...?" Her voice was a dry rasp, a whisper in the humid air.

Hanz's breath caught when he tried to speak. For a moment, he appeared indecisive, then his voice echoed with restrained emotion. "Lisa? It's me."

Zuberi knelt next to Lisa, moving in a slow and placid manner. He studied her face and relaxed his furrowed brow in an attempt to counteract Hanz's fidgeting. The shared hair color could be coincidence, and besides Isabel and her cursed expedition, it wasn't like Zuberi had known many people with pale skin. Yet, Hanz's panic felt genuine, raw in a way that had pierced his perpetual nonchalance like sunlight does storm clouds.

"You ate the berries," Zuberi said, keeping his voice calm and measured, each word chosen to probe for truth without triggering further anguish.

She managed a weak nod, shivering despite the jungle heat. Her eyes had that same defiant spark he'd seen in Hanz. "Couldn't... wait," she rasped, voice catching. "I tried to hold on, but—so thirsty—so hungry—" She closed her eyes for a moment and ran her tongue across her cracked lips. "They—looked—fine." She closed her eyes again, soft moans escaping her lips.

Zuberi remembered the almost physical pull he had felt upon stumbling on the berries, a longing he had been unable to resist despite knowing he should not eat much without careful trials. There was no doubt in his mind. They were the same fruits.

Remembering his grandmother with a rush of affection, her wisdom transcending worlds, her words pouring over his memory like a soothing balm on a scolding burn, Zuberi reached for the pouch with the charcoal mixture. "Black dust drinks the bad spirits from the belly," Grandmother used to say. His own ordeal after eating the berries, and those damned slugs, had been different, a fevered madness instead of this violent purging. He chalked the differences to quantity. Despite the difficulty, he had stopped. Seeing the number of fruits missing from the cluster, it was evident Lisa had indulged.

He opened the container, releasing a scent like that of smoke and fresh pine. "Here," he said, holding it to her cracked lips. "Drink slowly. It will help draw out the poison."

Lisa hesitated, her eyes darting between the dark liquid, Zuberi's unfamiliar face, and the hovering, agitated redhead. Despite the lack of recognition in Lisa's eyes when they passed over Hanz, blaming it on her confusion, going even against the daunting improbability, Zuberi decided that every sign pointed to the two being blood relatives. In her gaze, Zuberi saw the same calculation he'd noticed in Hanz.

Hanz, for his part, wrung his hands. "Lisa—just drink it!" He went silent for a heartbeat then, chin quivering, continued, "He—he knows stuff." Hanz swallowed hard. "He saved my life earlier. Trust him. Please."

Hanz's desperation must have pierced through Lisa's agony. She leaned forward and took a tentative sip. She wrinkled her nose and coughed at the texture but swallowed. Zuberi offered the other pouch of clean water. "Use this to rinse. Then drink more charcoal."

Zuberi watched as Lisa followed his instructions. A silence draped over the jungle background and the trio. Over the course of minutes, Lisa's tremors lessened. The frantic edge left her eyes. A hint of color returned to her cheeks, but she retained a pale and pasty skin and it looked as though one could topple her by blowing at her.

Zuberi opened his eyes when he felt a gaze on him. He swiveled his head for a quick scan of their surroundings, noting Hanz who sat in a position similar to Lisa's, rolling a ball of shadow on his knuckles, his attention swallowed by the black void sphere. Breathing easier, he focused on the pair of eyes set on him.

"Who are you?" Lisa asked. Her voice was stronger.

"My name is Zuberi." He kept his voice level. "This," he gestured to Hanz, who was now staring at Lisa, a storm of emotions raging on his face, "is Hanz. It appears he knows you." Zuberi didn't voice the conclusion he had reached.

Lisa's gaze shifted to Hanz, confusion clouding her features before a flicker of pained recognition sparked. "Hanz? What—how?"

"Later," Zuberi said and offered her the charcoal slurry again. "Drink more first."

As Lisa sipped, Hanz addressed Zuberi, his voice low and strained, chin pointing to the woman. "That's my sister."

Zuberi nodded as he assessed how this new thread fit the weave. Siblings. Here? The odds made no sense to him, yet another hole in his understanding of this place. This expansive world, full of unfamiliar life and potential hazards, and the second person he met was related by blood to the first. He thought back to the black crystals appearing at the moment he needed shelter, the strange and fleeting sense that sometimes crept upon him that the jungle itself cleared a path where none existed moments before. Even the tracks he and Hanz had been following had led them not to prey but directly to this clearing, to her. It felt planned, as if unseen threads were pulling or guiding them. But to what end?

Lisa wrinkled her nose and handed the skin in her lap back to Zuberi. She leaned back against the tree, breathing labored and shallow but regular.

"Where are we?" she asked, her gaze moving between the two men.

"Don't know," Hanz said. "Not in Kansas anymore," he added, and judging by Lisa's roll of the eyes, it was a joke between them.

"Someplace strange and hostile," Zuberi added, swallowing the urge to scold Hanz. "We are survivors, like you."

Hanz moved to Lisa's side. His hand trembled as he reached toward her but stopped as if fearing his touch might dissolve her. The shadows at his feet coiled and twisted.

"Lisa, the berries—" His voice cracked, but he raised a fist to his lips, coughed into it once, and resumed. "How many?"

Lisa shook her head, struggling to answer, "Don't know—I was so thirsty—"

Her explanation faded into a low moan. Her eyes rolled back, body going limp against the tree, consciousness succumbing to exhaustion.

Hanz made a choked sound. "Lisa!"

Before Zuberi could tell Hanz to let her rest, let the black dust perform its miracles, as Grandma would say, a sound ripped through the jungle hum. It was the same deep roar Zuberi had heard before, one that vibrated in his entire body, as if a herd of antelopes galloped next to him. Unlike before, however, it was now much closer. A shiver ran through him despite the warm humidity of the jungle around them.

The roar echoed again, closing yet more ground, shaking the leaves on the trees, causing patterns in the vegetation to pulse with alarming intensity. Zuberi slung his spear across his back and Hanz's hand moved toward what Zuberi suspected to be a concealed weapon. The shadows around the man were coalescing, taking on hints of those same angular patterns as they writhed at his feet. Trust or not, they needed each other now.

Zuberi knelt and scooped Lisa into his arms, feeling a strange resonance as their skin made contact, her unconscious form buzzing with something he couldn't name. She was heavier than she looked and Zuberi stumbled to the side, but a wave of strength that hit harder than battle frenzy sparked within. Newfound strength surged through him, allowing him to catch himself, eliciting a certainty within him that, if he so chose, he could traverse the plains that separated all six tribes and climb both mountains that cradled his village. Without a moment of rest. Hanz met his gaze, raw relief warring with the omnipresent suspicion that inhabited his eyes. A silent acknowledgment passed between them. No thanks necessary.

Hanz pointed back towards the path they'd followed, and for once his voice held no trace of mockery. "That way, I think," he said, pointing to a parting of the foliage ahead. He swallowed hard. "I'll watch our backs."

Zuberi nodded, then he was moving. He held Lisa tight against him, shielding her as much as possible while navigating the dense undergrowth. Behind them, shadows deepened to a supernatural obscurity where Hanz passed. The roar sounded again, nearer yet, but they moved as more than three strangers now. They moved with grace and purpose. The will to survive and delicate buds of trust drove their escape.