Gilded Serpent Danielle Jensen (i can read with my eyes shut .TXT) 📖

gaze was clinical as he touched the dead man’s injuries, fingers delving into the wounds. “Big cat, I’d say. But who knows what sort of creatures hunt the interior.”

“I’ll speak with Ereni. See if she might have answers.”

Racker made a noncommittal grunt, but that concerned Marcus less than the tremor that stole over his head surgeon’s hands. Hands that Marcus had never seen shake, no matter how catastrophic the trauma. Hands that without, the Thirty-Seventh would have seen twice the discharges that it had.

“He couldn’t be saved,” he said, watching the surgeon closely. “It might not have been kind to put him through that for the sake of so little information, but it wasn’t what killed him.”

Racker’s black eyes fixed on him, full of the purest form of condescension that Marcus deigned to opine on a medical matter. “Thank you for your insight, sir.”

“Something is troubling you. If not this man, then what?”

Silence hung across the tent, broken only by the faint coughs and moans of the injured men on the cots beyond.

Finally, Racker spoke. “I thought we’d have more time.” He shook his head. “I hoped we’d have more time.”

Marcus hesitated before answering. “We aren’t back under their thumbs just yet.”

“But soon enough.” Racker waved a hand at him. “Get out of my surgery, sir. I’ll see what I can learn from the body and have a report back to you at dawn.”

 23TERIANA

“A path-hunter has been brought into camp.”

Teriana’s stomach hollowed, the world swimming in and out of focus. “What?”

“One of the Senate’s path-hunters is here.” Quintus exhaled. “Which means that there is a way from the Empire to the Dark Shores that doesn’t involve a Maarin ship or sea monsters.”

“Oh.”

He took a look at her, then went rooting around in the cabinets, coming out with a bottle of wine. “Atlian,” he said. “Amarin hides the expensive stuff for when we have senators in the command tent.”

“Senators?”

“Yeah.” He pulled the cork, then filled two tin cups, handing her one. “Soon as we have viable routes mapped, they’ll send one, and I can tell you from experience that he’ll be a right pain in everyone’s asses. Though I suppose you’ll be gone at that point. And I’ll…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Right.”

He sat on the stool next to her, then caught hold of her wrist, lifting the cup to her mouth. She dutifully took a mouthful of the smooth red liquid, then another. “We’re a bad influence on you,” he said. “Teaching you to drown your woes.”

“I’m a sailor,” she said softly. “I was born a bad influence.”

Quintus laughed, taking a sip from his cup, eyes fixed on the lamp at the center of the table. They sat in silence together for a long time, drinking the wine. Just after they finished the bottle, the camp filled with shouts and laughter, and then Marcus returned, officers following on his heels. Quintus stood. She did not.

Marcus’s clothing was soaked, and rainwater ran in rivulets down his face. Retrieving a towel, he scrubbed it over his hair and dried his hands, not so much as acknowledging her before saying, “Let’s have a look, then.”

Kneeling before one of the chests that contained maps and other important documents, he moved the pieces of the combination lock, and the mechanism opened with a clunk. He extracted a rolled-up map and a bound ledger, taking them to the opposite end of the table from where she sat, where he unrolled it. Servius used markers to weigh down the corners. “His number?”

Felix handed over a sheet of paper. Frowning, Marcus referred to a page in the ledger, then flipped through the book, pausing when he reached a page near the back. “Bardeen.”

Bardeen was on the southeastern edge of the Empire. The Quincense did a fair bit of trade along the province’s extensive coast during the summer; the winters were too cold for her mother’s blood.

Felix leaned over the map, then rested his finger on it, giving a slight shake of his head. “Shit. That’s near where we were camped when we laid siege to Hydrilla.”

“It was discovered last year,” Marcus said, reading from the page. “Underground, after an excavation. Senate had sent sixteen hunters through it, last our records were updated. Who knows how many they’ve sent since, but surely more than just our corpse.”

Gibzen snorted. “Will make it easier to find on our end if there are corpses scattered about it.”

Marcus made a noncommittal noise. “I expect they are scattered throughout the jungle, but still, it’s surprising that none made it out alive.” Glancing toward Servius, he said, “Offer a reward for information about any foreigners having stumbled out of the jungle over the past year.”

“Wouldn’t they have come to us by now, if they’d survived?”

“Things change. Let’s see if a reward will lure them out.” He was silent for a heartbeat, then he said, “And offer a reward for any information about known xenthier stems in the area. Titus, start recruiting volunteers to train as path-hunters so that they are ready when we find a genesis stem. Make sure they are clear both of the dangers and of the reward they’ll receive if they are successful.”

Titus nodded, and though his face was expressionless, Teriana could see the glee in his eyes. He wanted to be reunited with the Empire.

“Gibzen, you will head the search for the Bardeen stem’s terminus. Racker will provide his report on what he’s learned from the body in the morning, but I want you underway before then.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Rising to his feet, Marcus surveyed the group. “I’ll withhold congratulations until we can claim success on our end. Adjourned.” Then he turned to Quintus. “Be back in this tent at dawn.”

“Yes, sir.”

Everyone left, leaving Teriana alone with Marcus. He sat back down on a stool, resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his temples with his thumbs. Then he said, “Are you all right?”

Unfreezing from where she’d sat during the discussion, she moved across from him, eyeing the massive map