The trek through the jungle from the landing site had been rough. Morgan, thoroughly exhausted, did her best not to lag behind the other adventurers. Every step she took felt as though the foliage on the ground would pull her down and engulf her weary body. Even the trees were out to get her, pulling tendrils of her curly red hair out of her bun. No, the Plateau was not what she had bargained for.
John did his best to keep an eye out for all the expedition members. Mr. Lions appeared to be doing rather well, though his constant stopping proved rather annoying. Brighton was also fine, every now and then hacking overgrown bushes back from the trail with his machete. Challenger's strides were like those of a young man rather than one past his prime. John stifled a laugh at his friend; George Challenger was definitely a man of character. The Roxton boys were also keeping up. Thy had been so excited to begin the walk through the jungle that Marguerite tied them both to her with a long string: long enough so they wouldn't be underfoot, but short enough that they couldn't run ahead. This amused John very much. During their first trip the only thing Marguerite had held that close was her precious gems. Now she had completely changed, though she never failed to surprise him.
The only expedition member John was concerned about was Miss Percey. He knew absolutely nothing about her, nor had he ever heard of her father, Squire Percey. John glanced over his shoulder at the young woman bringing up the rear. She was odd to him: completely familiar yet he had never met her before. As he watched, she fell. "Bloody Hell!" He heard of the jungle sounds. John went to where she had fallen and helped her up.
"Hey!" He called to the front of the line. "Let's take a five minute break. Seems the jungle is giving Miss Percey a tough time."
The line stopped moving and everyone sat down. "Thank you, Lord Roxton," Morgan said as she pulled her arm out of his grasp. If she allowed him to get any closer her cover might be blown. Morgan sat down away from the rest of the group and pulled out a small mirror from her pack. Some of her foundation had been sweated off, but the rest of her makeup was still intact, preserving her twenty-year-old visage. Morgan returned the mirror to her pack and took a long drink out of her canteen. The jungle was hotter than anything she had ever experienced.
Ahead of her, the explorers were taking of the Treehouse and its' inhabitants. Morgan listened closely to the stories, savoring them as if they were missing pieces of her own past. "Excuse me," she said from her seat.
"Yes, my dear?" Challenger said, being very fatherly.
"How long will it be before we reach this Treehouse of yours?"
"We should be there before nightfall," Challenger replied.
"Thank you," she said, retreating back into her own lonely silence.
"Miss Percey," Marguerite said, tugging the cord that Jude was attached too. He was trying to play with an odd looking plant. "You can sit and talk with us. We don't bite."
"I know, Lady Roxton. I just prefer a little solitude every now and then. Besides, I'm used to being alone. It's not a new thing for me."
Marguerite was baffled. Had the young lady snubbed the entire group? The woman was a puzzle to Marguerite, which surprised her. She herself had had a very colorful past, being Parsifal during World War Two and an international spy as well. She had seen many things in her life. Miss Percey was a different story. Marguerite thought she had to be up to something. The question was, what did she have in mind?