Jak didn’t pursue the matter, as the Gate women were as outraged as he, but he did remember what Dean had told him about Margia’s temper after he had stepped into her fight with Mildred, and he resolved to keep his eyes open.
Even so, there were two other occasions when the albino suspected that accidents were caused by the blond armorer. The first came when they took target practice. Tammy fired the shot that nearly chilled Jak, the kickback on the .38-caliber Smith & Wesson Airlite Ti she had been given causing the weapon to buck and the shot to stray sideways toward the area where Jak was whetting his knives on a stone. It could have been an accident, if not for the fact that Tammy had only just been given the blaster by Margia, who had persuaded her to try it there and then—to see if it was suitable for her needs—on a target that the armorer had placed herself with some care, perhaps working out the angle necessary for the slug to catch Jak.
The second occasion was more blatant. Jak was passing the armory when a shot rang out. With lightning reflexes, the albino hit the ground in a roll, the bullet whining harmlessly into a tree some twenty yards behind him.
Rising to his feet in anger, and reaching the armory in two strides, Jak flung open the tent flap to find the interior empty, apart from a still warm AirLite—the same one Tammy had been given a few days prior. A close examination revealed that the blaster had been tampered with, the chamber and stock revealing signs of metalwork being shaved, perhaps the same work that had previously caused it to buck so badly in Tammy’s hands.
Hearing the rustle of canvas behind him, Jak turned to see Margia enter. The blonde raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“Trouble?” she asked. Then, sniffing the air and catching the cordite, she added, “You’ve got a habit of being too close to blasters that just go off.”
Jak said nothing. Pushing past her, he left the tent before his temper got the better of him. He could feel her eyes bore into his back as he walked away. Her time would come. It would be the two of them if necessary. He had no quarrel with her, but if she felt differently, then he would see it through.
Chapter Ten
As they progressed, it became apparent that they were traveling down an incline that was gentle and barely noticeable, but nonetheless had an effect on the surrounding jungle. Over a period of three hours, they found progress easier in terms of both exertion and the amount of foliage that had to be chopped back to supply a path.
“Valley of some kind,” Gloria said to Ryan. “Different soil, too. Look at the change around us.”
The one-eyed warrior looked around. The stunted trees were more prevalent than the creepers and shrubs that had crossed their path prior to this point. The root systems of the trees had also retreated farther into the ground, making the way underfoot less treacherous. There was still a canopy of leaves and branches that made the light filter through in shafts and blocks rather than as a clear view of the sky, but even this was more evenly distributed than before.
Gloria raised her panga, pointing to the treetops. “See how they’re spread out more, sweets? That’s because they’re more deeply rooted, growing strong and straight. Which means we’re coming into a place where the water and goodness lies deeper in the soil. Which isn’t what I’d expect in a valley.”
“Mebbe this is leading downward into something larger,” Ryan suggested, “like mebbe we’re coming down from a plateau?”
Gloria chewed her lip. “No news from the outriders on big changes in the landscape. Wonder what I could see from above?”
And before Ryan had a chance to answer her, the Amazon queen had left his side and scaled the nearest tree, sheathing her panga and stretching her sinewy arms up to grasp a lower branch, pulling herself upward and over onto the limb with a feline grace. She disappeared into the canopy of foliage.