Page 105 of The Weaver

Perhaps they would spend one more night in the jungle after all…

He held her gaze as the heat between them built. His claspers relaxed, and?—

The sound of stones clacking together echoed between the trees, dulled by distance but unmistakable.

Rekosh’s hearts leapt in his chest, and the fine hairs on his legs stood.

Ahmya’s eyes widened as she lifted her head. “Was that…?”

“Yes.”

Those sounds had been that of blackrock against blackrock, the manner by which shadowstalkers had long signaled each other out in the Tangle.

The way Rekosh and his friends had signaled each other.

As though she’d anticipated what he would do, Ahmya was already releasing her hold on him and lowering her legs before he set her down. She stepped back the instant she was on the ground and looked in the direction the signal had come from.

Rekosh swung his bag to his front, opened it, and withdrew a pair of blackrock knives from within. He banged their flat sides together, tapping out a response.

As the last clack’s echo faded, he held his breath and listened. The Tangle seemed unnaturally quiet in those moments. All the jungle had paused, waiting with him.

When the answering clacks drifted to him, they came on ahot gust of wind that carried the sickly-sweet smell of wet, rotting vegetation so prevalent in parts of the Tangle.

“Is it the others?” Ahmya asked, turning her excited gaze to Rekosh.

“It must be them,” he said, closing the bag and returning it to his back. “Garahk likely sent word back to Kaldarak, and our friends must have come to help find us.”

Ahmya stuck out her bottom lip in a pout, but the light in her eyes was playful and teasing. “Aww. Guess we won’t have tonight to ourselves under the stars after all.”

He growled and caught her wrist with a lower hand, drawing her close. “I will have you to myself one way or another,nyleea.”

She laughed, stood on her toes, and grasped his braid, which hung over his shoulder and down his chest. With a little tug, she drew him down into a kiss. Much too soon, she pulled away, sliding her arm out of his loose hold. “Now’s not the time to keep everyone waiting, myluveen.”

Chittering, Rekosh strode in the direction from which the signal had come. Ahmya fell into step beside him.

Despite having spent half the day traversing the jungle, their pace was quicker now, urged on by newfound excitement. Occasional signals from ahead guided Rekosh to appropriately alter their course; their path was veering aside, seemingly moving parallel to the river rather than toward it.

Each time the clacking sounded, it was closer, clearer, making Rekosh’s anticipation only stronger.

With every step, he and his mate drew nearer to their future. He couldn’t guess what it would hold, but under the gazes of the gods’ eightfold eyes—and the gaze of anyone else—he would make sure that future was full.

Their path led them gradually uphill, through terrain thick with rocks and vegetation, where visibility was limited from the ground. But the excitement in their strides did not waver.

When the signal came again, it was from no more than a hundred or so segments ahead. Rekosh answered it quickly.

Another series of stone-on-stone clacks came from somewhere behind.

His friends must have split into groups to cover more area in their search, and they were now all converging.

But some instinctual part of Rekosh insisted that he and Ahmya were now surrounded, being enfolded. That two unknown parties were closing in on them like a pair of fanged mandibles ready to land a killing blow.

“We’re almost there,” Ahmya said, jarring him from his thoughts. “I can’t believe our little adventure is about to be over.”

Rekosh chittered. “Littleadventure?”

She scrunched her nose. “Okay, so maybe it wasn’t quite so little.” Her lips stretched into a smile. “It has been an adventure though, hasn’t it? I could have done without the almost dying parts, but everything else… I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

His mandibles rose as he brushed his foreleg against her calf. “Nor would I,kir’ani vi’keishi. Except for almost dying. You are not allowed to be in danger again.”

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