Silence Is Golden (Storm and Silence 3)

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When I opened my eyes next morning, a light mist lay over the jungle and the mountains. I yawned, dragging in big mouthfuls of the cool air streaming down from the peaks.

‘What time is it?’

‘Time to go mountain climbing,’ Mr Ambrose’s voice came from above me. My clothes landed in front of me with a thud. ‘Get dressed. Up in the mountains, you’ll need all the warmth you can get.’

‘Mountains?’ I blinked up at him groggily. ‘You honestly mean for us to go climbing up into the mountains this early in the morning? My bones feel like lead and I’m sore all over!’

‘Really?’ His face remained perfectly expressionless. ‘I feel perfectly fine. Whatever can you have been up to last night?’

I gave him a glare, which he ignored.

Bloody hell! Oh, well. If he could pretend he was perfectly fit after last night’s shenanigans, then so could I! Groaning, I pushed myself onto my feet and slipped into my clothes. They felt alien on my skin after so much time spent walking around half-naked. I could only hope that once we were back home again, I would get used to them quickly, and not accidentally come down to breakfast one morning dressed only in my drawers.

Wait a minute…half-naked. That reminded me of something. And no, I wasn’t thinking about Mr Ambrose.

‘What about the Indians?’ I demanded. ‘What happened to them?’

‘They slipped away once it became clear that the Brazilians were too many to handle,’ Karim grunted. ‘I cannot blame them, really. They only signed on to be guides, not bodyguards.’

Very true. I wasn’t one for praying, usually, especially not to a patriarchal God who kicked humans out of paradise because a woman wanted to satisfy her perfectly natural curiosity, but I sent up a quick prayer to whatever heathen gods the natives prayed to, asking them to guide Amana and all the others safely back to their village. These people had truly been my guides, and not just through the jungle of South America.

‘Let’s go!’

Mr Ambrose’s command pulled me from my reverie. I looked up, just in time to catch the end of the rope he threw at me.

‘What am I supposed to do with that?’

‘It’s a safety measure. Tie it around your waist - if it’s long enough.’

My eyes narrowed. ‘Thanks so much for the compliment.’

‘You’re welcome. Some of those mountain paths look pretty steep to me. If one of us falls, hopefully the other two will be able to catch him-’ he glanced at me and reluctantly added, ‘or her.’

Well, well, well. Will you look at that? Mr Rikkard Ambrose has learned a new pronoun. So miracles do happen, after all.

Smiling, I tied the rope around myself.

‘Enough chit-chat. It’s time we got moving.’ And he marched off towards the nearest mountain.

‘What about breakfast?’ I demanded.

‘There’s a piece of bread in your knapsack. We have no time to waste.’

‘But- ah!’

Feeling a sudden tug on the rope around my waist, I stumbled forward.

‘No buts, Mr Linton!’

Another tug, and I staggered forward again.

Safety measure my foot! This was why he had done it! So he could tug me around on a leash, like a little obedient puppy! And the worst thing was: I couldn’t even find reasonable grounds for complaining! Gah!

To the Top

I might have been a little hasty in my judgement. The mountain paths we started to climb were steep, and the rope did come in handy. More than once I stumbled, and it was the only thing that prevented me from sliding back down the gravelly path, towards a fate that included a cracked skull and several broken bones. The one time that was really dangerous, however, was not when I slipped and fell, but Karim. The sudden, violent tug on the rope nearly ripped me off my feet, and only by combining all our strength did Mr Ambrose and I prevent our favourite turbaned giant from plummeting down the mountain.