Page 23 of Code Bound
“There is no correct direction,” Cipher answers. “Only death exists wherever you go, Vespera. Remember that . . . and you might survive.”
“How very fucking ominous of you,” I grumble.
But I do move just a little faster anyway.
CHAPTER9
VESPER
“Is this at least a good direction to go in?” I ask Cipher after the scenery doesn’t change. We’ve been walking for about fifteen minutes. The sounds of the monsters are still loud above us, whatever they are screeching in what sounds like anger. I don’t have any desire to face it, not when we haven’t got anything to defend ourselves with. I check my inventory as I move. A stick, a jacket, and some of those mint leaves. None of that is a weapon.
“Define good,” Cipher responds.
I grit my teeth against the frugality of that question. “You mother—,” I take a deep breath. “Does this direction give us the best chances of survival?” I ask, rephrasing my question.
Cipher takes a moment. “You have a sixty-three percent chance of survival in this direction.”
I wince. “That’s . . . not very high.”
“If you go the opposite direction, your chances are twenty-four percent.”
I glance at Locke. “Sixty-four percent chance versus twenty-nine percent chance of survival.”
Locke rolls his eyes. “If I relied on statistics to survive, I’d already be dead. Don’t need ‘em, so it’s your call.”
“That is why he will not make it out of the Harrow,” Cipher informs me. “Statistics should always be considered. Even when they seem inconsequential.”
Taking a deep breath, I pick up my pace again. “We go toward the sixty-four percent chance. Seems like the best option when we haven’t leveled up and we have no weapons.”
“Fair,” Locke nods. “Then let’s pick up?—”
The screech is so loud, both of us duck. The closest I’ve ever heard something sound like that is the screeching of metal back in Dross when a building was falling. But even that doesn’t come close to the malice in this sound. I whirl, searching for the source, certain that something is a second away from attacking us. Instead, I find . . . a single creature.
“What in the Harrow in that thing?” Locke whispers, staring at it with wide eyes, both of us desperately reaching for a weapon we don’t have.
The creature has shaggy red fur, but its rounded face and small ears are black. Two large black eyes watch us curiously as it balances on a thick branch. It’s hunched over, two very long arms curled up in front of it while a long, thick tail twists around the branch. The shaggy red fur sits around that face in a burst pattern, giving it a mane.
“It’s almost . . . cute,” I whisper back, frowning. “Is that what made the noise?”
The creature shifts, shaking the branch. As it moves, the tail holds fast, as if it’s used as another limb.
“I suggest you run,” Cipher says in my mind.
“Why?” I breathe. “It’s not attacking us.”
Cipher chuckles. “Vespera, that is a howler monkey.”
“What’s a howler monkey?” I ask.
The description window pops up helpfully.
Howler Monkey
Primate, chaotic
“One is not much danger, no. But howler monkeys travel as a troop,” Cipher continues. “And they are very territorial.”
My breath rattles. “What does that mean?”
