Warrior Rogue (The Drift Lords Series) by Nancy J. Cohen Page B

they?
    God, she hoped the inhabitants weren’t primitives with face paint and spears.
    With each step, her fears escalated and so did her sense of the surreal. This couldn’t be happening to her. She must be trapped in a nightmare. But when she stumbled on a root, and Paz’s firm grip steadied her, she swallowed her doubts. Like it or not, she was stuck with him as her partner for now.
    After what seemed an interminable trek but had only taken a half hour, Paz called a halt beside a cluster of ferns. Jen rubbed her arms, scratched from fronds and sharp-bladed plants.
    “I’m going to finish compiling the PIP. You hear that sound of rushing water? Follow it to the source if it isn’t too far, but come back if you hear anyone nearby. We need to locate fresh water to avoid getting dehydrated.”
    Without waiting for her reply, he settled onto a flat-topped boulder, unfolded the scarf in his lap, and got to work on assembling his device.
    When she didn’t respond, he glanced up. “What?”
    She propped her hands on her hips. “Are you going to tell me what to do the whole time?”
    His lips compressed, and his gaze darkened. “Unless you have survival skills and know how to deal with nasties as well as other dangers, I suggest you let me call the slots.”
    “It’s call the shots, tiger. Get your slang straight.”
    He reminded her of a wild animal: clever, resourceful, and deadly. An aura of power emanated from him that radiated strength and prowess. She’d known the man only a few short hours but had faith in him to get them out of this fix.
    He’d just finished his project when she returned to report on a nearby waterfall tumbling into a freshwater pond. She’d taken her time, relieving herself after ascertaining no one was watching, and then washing her hands and face in the pool.
    Paz stood and panned his PIP around like Spock with his Tricorder. “We’re on Togura Island. It’s part of the Izu Archipelago south of Japan in the region known as the Dragon’s Triangle. Our arrival here cannot be a coincidence.”
    “You’ve said that before. What do you mean?”
    Paz’s eyes glittered as he regarded her. “I smelled cors particles on the aircraft just before the Trolleks vectored into view. The odor is strong on this island, and my improvised PIP confirms it. There’s a rift here.”
    “O-kay.” Too weary to absorb his words, she signaled for him to follow her toward the water.
    The gushing sound grew louder as they wove through the trees, their shoes scrunching on dead leaves. Overhead, a green parrot flitted from branch to branch. A loud screech from higher up spurred her to walk faster.
    She stopped at the water’s edge, spray from the waterfall wetting her face. The pool’s surface glistened in the dappled sunlight. A pleasant nutmeg-like scent pervaded the air.
    Paz aimed his device at the water, fiddled with the controls, and smiled triumphantly. “It’s clean. We can drink.”
    After quenching their thirst, they headed toward a cluster of life signs on his device. It led them toward the east and away from their landing site.
    Vines dangled in front of her nose. She brushed them aside, wary of cobwebs. Overhanging branches made her pulse quicken. She feared spiders or snakes dropping on her head.
    A shudder racked her shoulders. She’d never been a nature fan and didn’t intend to start now. The sooner they reached civilization, the better.
    All this talk of rifts and Trolleks confused her. Fatigue seeped into her bones, discouraging any further inquiries.
    Her heart leapt when they emerged at the jungle’s edge where a small village hugged the coastline. A dirt road ran through the main street lined by pastel-colored houses on stilts. Chickens strutted in the yards where laundry was strung out to dry. Boats of varied sizes bobbed on the water. Likely the villagers made their living from fishing.
    Paz held up a cautionary hand. “Let me do the talking.”
    He approached a couple of women