I swatted at another black fly intent on sucking my blood. There were a lot of bugs hovering just outside my reach, but only the extremely hungry ones dived in for a meal. They just don’t seem to like the taste of magical blood. The muscles in my right arm were starting to get tired from all the swinging. Although sharp and efficient, the machete did little to clear a path through the dense canopy of green surrounding me. I heard Will Kerchee having to cut his own path, even though he followed close behind. Shadows still enveloped us, but a reddish-gold glow on the horizon told me two things: it was going to be hot, and it was going to rain. Both of which meant it was going to be muggy as hell for the rest of the job. “We apparently have different concepts of access, Kerchee. When you said we could get here easily, I presumed there’d be a road.” The jungle seemed to swallow my words so they were barely a murmur above the raucous noise overhead.
