The others had listened and raised their objections.

“It’s the only way.” Roxton wouldn’t be budged.

“We have to tell Veronica.” Summerlee brought up the point no one wanted to deal with.

“Will she believe us?” Ned didn’t like confrontation at the best of times. This was definitely not the best of times.

“Will who believe what?” Veronica came up the stairs and looked suspiciously at the five explorers.

While she knew they cared for her and the ties between them were familial, still there was always a bond between the five, perhaps due to their shared experience, that she wasn’t a part of. They’d left London together, journeyed here, considered home to be somewhere other than the plateau. They had lives that existed outside the plateau.

Maybe that’s why she’d gotten so close, so quickly to Finn. They were both of the plateau. Neither had regarded London as home.

“Sit down for a moment, my dear. I’m afraid this is going to take some explaining,” Summerlee said gently.

***

“No, I don’t believe it. That’s too crazy. It sounds like something out the fantastic tales Ned’s always spinning.”

“Veronica, please. I’m afraid it’s true.” Marguerite kept her voice even, sincere.

“No, Sándor cares for me. You just don’t want someone to see me or appreciate me as something other than a simple jungle girl. You don’t think a sophisticated man would want me.” Veronica lashed out in disappointment even though in her heart she knew that wasn’t the case.

Marguerite flinched back, hurt by the verbal attack. Roxton’s arm braced her shoulders. The hunter tried to reason with young blonde. “You know that’s not true. Think about all that’s happened.”

“You don’t have to take our word for it, just don’t take any chances and watch and see what happens.” Summerlee’s quiet words were, as always, the voice of reason.

Reluctantly Veronica agreed. She might be infatuated with Sándor, but her faith and trust resided in her impromptu family. She touched Marguerite’s hand in silent apology for the earlier accusation. Marguerite’s brief smile acknowledged her gesture.

As everyone began to head to their rooms to try and get what little sleep they might, Roxton tapped Ned on the shoulder to stop him from following the others. Roxton waited until everyone else was out of earshot. Then it seemed like he had to search for the right words.

“If things go south on this…” Roxton spoke softly, seriously. He paused and regarded the young man with great intensity. “It’ll be up to you to keep them together.”

Ned recognized Roxton’s concern. Challenger might have been the expedition’s leader, but his focus on science sometimes got in the way. And Roxton had always regarded Summerlee and Marguerite as warranting special protection. At first he was simply aware of a flush of pride that the hunter saw him as a capable fighter and protector. He nodded his understanding.

But then suddenly it struck him that the possibility of Roxton not surviving this mad venture was all too real. And Malone realized that the hunter didn’t think his chances were all that good, either.

“Take care of Marguerite for me. Don’t be fooled by what she says, or what went on in the past. Just remember all the things she’s done for us.” Roxton caught Ned’s eyes, determined to be sure the reporter would recognize Marguerite’s worth.

Ned swallowed, trying to imagine dealing with a Marguerite devastated by Roxton’s death, and opted for a lighter note. “Just make sure you come through this. I can handle raptors and T-rexes, but I’m not up to Marguerite.”

Roxton smiled softly and went down the steps, leaving Ned to extinguish the last light. He passed his room and turned into Marguerite’s, brushing the sheer drapery that curtained her doorway gently to the side. It fell back behind him. Marguerite sat on the edge of her bed waiting for him. She hadn’t lit a candle; a swath of moonlight striped the room.

“Don’t do this, John.”

“We went through this already. You and Challenger haven’t recovered your full strength yet. Surely you don’t expect Summerlee to be able to do it, do you?” She shook her head. “Malone hasn’t been there before; he couldn’t find it quickly enough.”

“You throw your life away too easily,” Marguerite reproached him.

Roxton shook his head with a quiet smile, brushing her hair back from her face. His thumb traced her cheekbone. “No, not anymore. Never before this have I had so much to lose.”

***

The clock in the laboratory echoed through the treehouse. The never-ending tick marked off seconds that grew into minutes. Eventually they turned into hours. Most nights the sound was soothing, a counterpoint to the never silent jungle, signaling the marriage of civilization to the uncompromising dangers that lurked outside the treehouse.

This night the sound taunted most of the residents of the treehouse, restless in their sleep, as they awaited the morning to see what fate had in store.

***

Roxton, gently disentangling himself from the form lying next to him, sat up and pulled on his boots. The dawn light was still just a promise on the horizon. He gripped Marguerite’s shoulder, and put a finger to her lips. Her quick response showed that she hadn’t slept much more than he had.

“Do you still have your gun?” Roxton’s voice was just a murmur. Marguerite nodded and patted the pocket of her skirt. Neither had undressed last night. The situation was too uncertain.

“Be careful, John.” And then because she knew he’d want a smile, added, “Don’t forget you owe me a holiday.”

“After this I guess a safari won’t do. It’ll have to be the south of France.” He stroked her face, fingertips following the curve of her jaw, and then pulled her into his arms for kiss. Drawing back he said, “Stay out of Bocskai’s reach.” Standing up, he bent over and kissed her forehead. Then he was gone.

She was left with the memory of the snippet from John Donne that Roxton had quoted as they lay in bed, her head against his heart.

“Let not thy divining heart
      Forethink me any ill;
Destiny may take thy part,
    And may thy fears fulfil.

        But think that we
Are but turn'd aside to sleep.
They who one another keep
    Alive, ne'er parted be.”