Discordia by Kristyn Merbeth

Author:Kristyn Merbeth [MERBETH, KRISTYN]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2021-12-07T00:00:00+00:00

We don’t talk. It’s hard enough just to keep going. Hours pass, with little progress to show for it. Getting through the jungle is less of a walk and more of a battle. I have to use my knife to hack through vines and bushes, and despite my warning not to touch any of the unknown plants, it quickly proves impossible. Soon my sleeves are torn from the thorns and whipping branches. My skin itches beneath. Whether it’s a product of one of the plants, or the sweat soaking me, or the buzzing insects, or just a product of my own paranoia, I’m not sure.

Lyre points out the plants she recognizes as we go—most of them horrifying—and we give them a wide berth, even if that means taking a longer route. But as well educated as my sister is, I know there are many things out here she won’t recognize. Even someone born and raised here wouldn’t know all of the things that lurk in the jungle. And we are deep in the thick of it, far from even the dubious safety of the smaller villages. We’re trespassing in the home of plants that don’t have names. Now I’m thinking of all the stories I’ve heard, ones that used to frighten me sleepless when I was a child. Brain-rot fungus and Medusan Man-Eaters. Carnivorous plants. Sentient ones. The stories are endless, and I don’t think anyone knows for sure whether or not they’re true. I don’t want to find out.

It would be foolish to imagine we get through this completely unscathed. All we can do is hope that the dangers we encounter are the kind we can survive.

At one point, there is a loud pop in the distance, and all of us stop short. Shey turns toward the noise with wide and hopeful eyes, while I instinctively tense and crouch, and Lyre darts behind a tree for cover. No sound follows but the continued whispering of the jungle and the buzz of insects.

“Probably just a blood-boiler pod,” I say, wiping my forehead with the back of one hand. Only afterward do I realize that’s a mistake—if I’ve touched anything that will cause a reaction, I’ve just spread it—but it’s pointless to worry about. “It’s hot enough for them to explode.”

Judging from the look on Shey’s face, she’s heard the stories. “Aren’t those dangerous?” she asks.

“They’re the least of our concerns out here,” I tell her gravely, and continue forward. She follows a little more closely than before.

Soon enough, we hear the rushing sound of the river, and after hacking through a tangle of bushes with thorns that tear open my hands, we emerge onto the bank of it.

“Thank the stars,” Lyre says, rushing to the edge and crouching down. She pauses, eyeing it and likely wondering if it’s safe. But the plants around it are lush and healthy, and the stream is heading toward the city rather than away, which makes contamination from people unlikely, so she quickly decides it’s safe enough to splash on her face.

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