Page 77 of A Fractured Song

The boy seemed surprised. “Not me. I don’t go into the jungle much. We’re a farming town. We grow avocados, and our grove is out here, not under the big trees. But folk do come through here sometimes, on their way south. The main thoroughfare goes around the jungle to the west, but going through is more direct. Plus you get traders wanting to visit the jungle villages. The main road goes right past them all, and it’s enchanted by singers from the council to keep it protected from the jungle. It’s safe enough.”

He rounded a well, bringing a tidy little house into view. The word STORE was painted neatly on a wooden board above the door.

“So you’ll get lost if you go off the road?” Zev pressed.

“Not exactly.” The boy pushed the door open, gesturing for Zev to carry the crate inside. “You just won’t get anywhere.”

Any attempt to get a better explanation was cut off by the boy’s yell.

“Pa! Supplies are here. And some folk who want gear for the jungle.”

“We don’t need gear,” said Marieke quickly.

He grinned as he looked them over. “Yes you do.”

A gray-haired man appeared in an inner doorway, his wiry frame still upright and strong. He received the crate from Zev, placing it on a nearby table.

“Thanks, lad. I see my grandson found a way to get out of doing any work.”

He raised an eyebrow at the boy. Unabashed, their guide took to the crate with a crowbar, obviously eager to examine what the carriage had brought them.

“So you’re headed to the jungle, eh?”

“Yes, sir,” said Zev. “That’s our plan.”

“Well, you’ll want some salve for the mosquitoes,” the shopkeeper said. “Do you have bedrolls? I don’t have any for sale at the moment.”

“We can make do with what we’ve got,” Marieke said quickly. “But we’d welcome any information you can give us. Your grandson said most people stick to the main road, but—”

“Not most,” the man cut her off. “All. Everyone sticks to the main road.”

Delivered in a different tone, the words could have sounded like a dire warning. But the stranger didn’t seem especially concerned.

“What if the road doesn’t go to the town we want to reach?” Marieke asked.

He shrugged. “It does. All the towns are along the main road.”

“But there must be some who live deeper in the jungle,” Zev insisted. “Maybe at its center?” He was clearly thinking of what Trina had told them about the elves’ community.

“Nothing lives in the center of the jungle outside of myth and legend,” the shopkeeper said.

Marieke folded her hands behind her back, trying not to show her eagerness. “What kind of legends?”

“Oh, there are all sorts of stories about jungle creatures,” the shopkeeper said dismissively. “Stories of forest people who live hidden away among the trees, becoming less like humans and more like the jungle itself. Fireside tales, you know. But there’s nothing in them. The magic is too strong in there for people to live. Except for, you know, along—”

“The main road,” Zev finished for him. “We get it.”

“Well you should be getting that salve,” he said. “To spread on your skin. And maybe some nets to sleep under. The mosquitoes get real bad in there.”

“We’ll take some salve,” Zev said. “We won’t burden ourselves with nets to carry.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Do you have big enough water bladders?” He inspected the one Zev lifted from his rucksack and shook his head. “You should get a bigger one. Long way between some of the villages, and you can’t trust the water anywhere else in the jungle. There’s magic in it, and it’s unpredictable.”

He went on to list some more recommended gear. A skeptical part of Marieke wondered whether these items were truly essential or whether the man just wanted the sales. But the prices weren’t exorbitant, and she didn’t want to be without something they really needed.

“Sure you don’t want to stay the night in town before you go?” the shopkeeper asked, once their transaction was complete. “Bessy sometimes lets out her spare room, if the price is right.”

“No thanks,” said Zev firmly. “We’ll push on. Is there somewhere we canbuy food?”

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