by H. L. Burke
Laidra dangled her feet in the water. Fingerling fish swarmed to her toes, their nibbles like the bristles of tiny brushes. She watched them rather than withdraw. Soon a cloud of the tiny fish surrounded her. “Do you think he could come to be happy as he is now? I mean, not in the same way as a man, but … I don’t know. Animals don’t seem all that miserable.”
“It’s hard to say.” Zephia’s shadow fell over Laidra. The fish darted for the safety of the rocks. “My instinct is, no. There will always be a part of Calen that will remember what he once was, and that spark of humanity will never allow him to be content as a mindless beast.”
While uncertain what would be best for him, Laidra couldn’t help but hope Zephia was right. I need to believe something of him remains.
“Come.” Zephia’s footsteps crunched on the gravel. “We’ve used up half our daylight, and we still need to find a safe place to sleep tonight.”
“And something to eat.” Laidra touched the light bundle she carried on her shoulder. “What we purchased in the village won’t last us another day.”
“That too,” Zephia called back, already rounding the bend in the river.
Laidra scurried to catch up.
Around the corner, a log jam rose like a rampart. Tumbled trees with roots as wide as village huts lay tossed on top of one another. Water seeped through the tangle of branches, roots, and rocks.
Zephia let out a breath. “We need to go back and find another path. The water beyond this will be too deep for wading, even if we manage to scramble to the top without breaking our necks.”
Laidra’s shoulders slumped. Her feet ached, and the last fork in the maze of canyons had been well before the sun rose above the canyon walls. They’d never find Calen at this rate. As she turned to follow Zephia back the way they’d come, her eye caught something: a ledge, running from a few feet above the canyon floor up to the rim.
“Is that a path?” She pointed.
Zephia followed her finger and smiled. “I believe it is.”
“Perhaps from the top we can get a better idea of where to search next.” Laidra stepped towards it, but Zephia cleared her throat, and she fell back.
“Sorry, Laidra, but the mother in me needs to try the path before you do.” Zephia’s eyes twinkled. “Besides, if I fall, the wind will catch me.”
She hopped onto the ledge and skirted along it, one foot over the other. About halfway up, she beckoned for Laidra to follow. “It seems safe. Be careful, though; it’s a bit of a drop if you lose your footing.”
Laidra pressed one shoulder tight against the grainy sandstone wall. She kept her eyes on the narrow path. Loose stones skittered and fell, splashing into the deep pool below.
“I'm almost to the top,” Zephia called. “I’m going to look around when I get there. Shout if you need me.”
Unwilling to break her concentration from the climb, Laidra gave a brief nod rather than an answer.
“It narrows here at the top.” Zephia pulled herself up the last few feet and disappeared over the edge.
The last bit of the ledge had crumbled away, leaving a lip perhaps a hand’s breadth across. Fortunately, the top was close enough that Laidra could easily hook her arms over it and pull herself up. With a few kicks against the cliff face and some grunting, she wormed her way onto the flat land above the canyon and drew several deep breaths.
A gnarled tree leaned against scattered boulders, its roots pushing through the rocky red earth in all directions. Zephia stood in its shade, scanning the horizon. The earth stretched out then gently sloped into a green valley fed by a long snaking stream.
“That’s the stream I followed from where the goat died. It joins with the canyon river not far from here.” She pointed. “We aren’t as far from the village as I’d like, but we are closer to where I lost track of Calen.”
Laidra nodded. She started towards Zephia then froze. Something glimmered in the dark green of the leaves, a brighter, emerald green. The limbs shook as whatever it was moved.
“Zephia! Look out!” Laidra shrieked.
The massive snake dropped from the branches onto the queen’s shoulders. She collapsed under his weight but scrambled away. Zephia reached for the gem about her neck. The snake reared up, spitting. His tail swung like a whip. The chain holding the pendant snapped, and it skittered across the rocks.
“Laidra, run!” Zephia shouted.
“No!” Laidra picked up a stone and hurled it at the serpent. It bounced harmlessly off his armored scales.
Zephia clawed at the earth, trying to escape her son’s coils. The snake wrapped around her lower legs and pulled her towards his open jaws.
Laidra bolted for the gem, but the snake sent forth a coil, blocking her path.
“Calen! Stop!” she gasped.
Picking up a larger rock with both hands, she flung it. It crashed into Calen’s head.
The snake whirled. His eyes glinted, burning into her like fire. Her legs quaked.
“Calen,” she whispered.
The monstrous reptile swayed. He uncoiled from around Zephia and advanced on her.
This is it, eaten by the man I love. Her heart skipped painfully then steadied. Calen’s gaze never left her. His forked tongue flicked in and out. His sides flexed in visible breaths. Focused on him, the rest of the world blurred. Laidra prayed Zephia would make the best use of the distraction.
Instinctively, she mirrored Calen’s dance, shifting from side to side. The girl and the serpent danced. Each motion brought them closer together. Warmth swept through her, calming her. She longed to reach for him, to hold him, even in his terrible form, but she resisted and continued to sway with him. They circled. His eyes never left hers, glowing with a strange light, sad but sharp.
“Calen!” Zephia’s voice broke Laidra’s concentration.
Beyond the snake, the queen held the opal aloft. Calen whipped around, hissing. The stone let forth a dazzling light, and the serpent sank to the ground.
Laidra fell to her knees, her shoulders shaking.
Zephia stepped over her son and knelt beside Laidra, resting her hand on Laidra’s forehead. “How did you do that?” she asked, her eyes wide. “How did you tame him without the opal?”
“I don’t know.” Laidra stroked the snake’s scales. “I saw his eyes and somehow I knew what to do.”
“Incredible.” Zephia fiddled with the chain of the pendant, carefully re-forming the broken link with her fingernails. She placed it over her head.
Calen’s scales rose and fell with his breath. A faint warmth, like a stone left in the sun, rose from him. Laidra searched desperately for some resemblance to his human form, some sign of his spirit, but found only a beast.
A tear trickled down her craggy cheek. Do you even remember who you are? You attacked your own mother like a thoughtless animal. Oh, Calen, why didn’t I offer sooner? If I hadn’t been so proud, if I’d let you know I was willing, even a day sooner, you wouldn’t be in this state.
“Would you mind?”
Laidra looked up. Zephia pulled up her skirts, revealing her calves. Blood beaded on her skin where Calen’s scales had scraped her. Laidra winced and hovered her hands over the wounds.
Zephia smiled as her flesh re-formed. “Thank you.”
The sun glinted off Calen's emerald scales, entrancing as Zephia's opal. Laidra traced her hands over his coils.
“Well, we’ve found him, so now what?” she asked.
“Between your charming abilities and the stone, we should be able to keep him sedate. Beyond that, I’m uncertain what course is best.” Zephia sat beside Laidra. She ran her hands over her son’s coils. “He once told me if he lost his humanity, I should … that ....” Her mouth clamped shut. Tears dampened her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Calen. I’m not strong enough to do that for you. It may be selfish, but I can’t end your life. Even now, even seeing you like this.”
Laidra embraced Zephia as the queen broke down and sobbed. The princess’s throat tighte
ned. Vision blurring, she held on to Zephia for dear life.
Chapter Twenty
The sun crept towards the horizon, sending long shadows across the plain. The two women made camp, gathering wood for a fire and even finding some wild figs to supplement their dwindling supplies. Calen remained coiled beneath the tree.
Laidra’s stomach clenched as she gazed at him. Every time she remembered what he had been, she wanted to scream or cry. It wasn’t just the loss of his form, but also of his gentle spirit, awkward laugh, and protective embrace, everything that made up the young man she’d come to love so completely.
“He doesn’t even have hands to play his lyre anymore,” she whispered.
“What did you say?” Zephia looked up from putting another branch on the fire. Sparks burst into the air then died just as quickly.
“Nothing.” Laidra shook her head sadly then went to sit beside the queen. “How long do you think the opal will keep him sedated?”
Zephia shrugged. “I’m not sure. I designed it to calm him long enough for him to revert to his human form. Now, with him unable to change back, it’s hard to say what the effects will be. We can take turns watching him tonight and soothe him again, if he awakens.”
“So, he’ll sleep forever?” Laidra swallowed.
“It’s a better outcome than him getting loose and hurting someone, or finding himself at the end of a hunter’s spear.” Zephia rubbed her arms then tightened her cloak about herself. “I imagine there are hunters who would give their left eye for a trophy skin like his.”
Laidra shuddered.
“We need to get someplace safe,” Zephia continued. “I have a home where we could take shelter, but it is several day’s journey from here. It will be hard to get Calen there without drawing unwanted attention or risking his escape. Using the wind might not be an option. My ability to summon it works best in short bursts. What should take days could stretch into weeks with him in this form.”
“Maybe we can get him to the boat,” Laidra suggested.
“Possibly. It’s closer, but the terrain between here and where we moored is rough.” Zephia rubbed her eyes.
“You should rest. I’ll take the first watch.” Laidra took a blanket from their pack and passed it to her. “I don’t think I could sleep yet anyway.”
As Zephia settled on the other side of the fire, Laidra took her place next to Calen. The last hazy rays of sun flickered across his jewel-like scales. His head was tucked tight in the center of his coils.
“If you’re in there, if you can hear me, Calen, I still love you, and I won’t leave you,” she whispered. “We’ll keep you safe. Somehow.”
Stroking the massive serpent, she concentrated on the sky. Stars slowly blossomed amidst the deepening blue. She shivered and wrapped her cloak about her shoulders.
The sky turned from blue to black, resplendent with stars. A breath of wind brought the sweet smell of grass from the plains. Occasionally, she stood to stoke the fire or add more fuel, but mostly she sat in silent vigil. She had some vague understanding that snakes were unable to move in the cold. Did it hurt Calen to be exposed to the night air like this? Would a blanket help?
As the moon rose and sailed through the field of stars, her head dropped towards her chest. She jerked up.
Perhaps it has been long enough to wake Zephia. Better to give her a watch than for me to fall asleep and leave us unguarded.
She stood, but something on the plain caught her eye: a flickering dot of orange moving steadily in their direction. As it drew closer, she could make out a human form beneath it, small but agile, hopping through the darkness.
“Zephia!” She hurried to shake the queen’s shoulder. “Someone’s coming.”
The queen sat up with a gasp. She narrowed her eyes. “No one should be out this far. Perhaps a shepherd looking for stray sheep?”
“I don’t think so. They’re coming quickly, almost at a sprint, right at us.” Laidra pointed.
Zephia nodded and stood. “Only one, though. Whoever they are, I can handle them. Is Calen still asleep?”
“He hasn’t stirred.”
“Good. We should be fine then. Let’s see who this late-night visitor is and what they want.”
The runner slowed as he began to ascend the hill leading to their perch. Finally, he stood trembling at the edge of their firelight, his torch shaking in his hands.
“Hapir?” Laidra stepped forward.
The boy from the village nodded. He eyed the sleeping Calen.
“It’s all right. He won’t harm you.” Zephia stepped between the boy and her son. “What are you doing so far from your village?”
“After you left, my little brother, Tos, was playing in the garden, and a viper …” The boy shuddered. “It bit him. The venom makes him scream in agony. He’s only three. Please, goddess, you must help him.”
Confused, Laidra glanced at Zephia.
The queen smiled. “I think he’s addressing you, Laidra.”
Cold swept through her. “Goddess? Oh, no! I’m not—how did you find us?”
“Elder Yori said you were going after the serpent who attacked my father. I knew what direction it had fled and went that way. After a bit, I saw your fire flickering on the horizon and followed it to you.” He fell to his knees. “Please, I will give you anything. You have to save Tos. He’s just a kid.” Tears slipped down the boy’s cheeks.
Laidra swallowed. “I can’t let the child suffer. Will we be able to get there in time?”
Hapir hung his head. “I don’t know. My mother thought it folly, but I had to do something. I couldn’t sit and watch him suffer.”
“We’ll have to try.” Laidra stepped forward.
Zephia put her arm out and stopped her. “Stay here. It will be quicker for me to bring the child to you, and it won’t leave Calen unguarded.”
Before Laidra could object, the queen dissolved, and the wind whipped her away. Hapir staggered back, dropping the torch to the ground.
Laidra chewed her bottom lip. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not a goddess, but Zephia is halfway there. She will help your brother. Sit, warm yourself. You must be exhausted after that run.”
The boy curled up beneath a blanket by the fire, and, after many anxious glances towards the still-slumbering Calen, drifted off to sleep.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the tree shook with a mighty gust of air. A cyclone touched down outside the firelight and Zephia re-formed, a young child clutched in her arms.
“His mother didn’t wish to give him up at first, but I convinced her.” She laid the boy beside his sleeping brother. “Hurry, Laidra. When I came to him, he was screeching in pain. Now look.”
The boy lay limp, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
“The poison has nearly run its course.” Zephia’s shoulders slumped. “This may be too much even for your powers.”
“We’ll see.” Laidra hovered her hands over the unconscious child. Warmth coursed through her. Oh gods, please let my gift be enough.
Tos’s body stiffened. He moaned.
Hapir sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Tos! Is he all right?”
“Shush!” Zephia ordered.
Laidra closed her eyes and tried to draw more of her power from her blood. Tingles swept through her body, leaving her skin numb and her head light. Darkness began to close her vision, but she fought it and stayed conscious. The boy gasped for breath and jolted up. He blinked, staring from her to his brother. Zephia moved to block his view of the giant snake.
“Tos!” Hapir snatched up the child in a fierce hug. “I knew she could save you! I knew it!”
Still bleary-eyed, Tos hugged his brother. “Where’s Mama?”
“We’ll get you home.” Zephia stroked the young child’s hair.
Legs shaking, Laidra stood and brushed back her sleeves from her arms, waiting for a legion of warts to spring up in response to the use of power. Nothing happened. She hadn't felt the prickle of a new blemish,
but the intensity of the healing might've overshadowed a simple itch. That, or her hair would begin dropping out in handfuls tomorrow. Hair loss was the rarest of her reactions, and it generally didn't herald itself with skin irritation. In spite of her determination to live openly, she began to long for her veil.
“Laidra, I must speak with you.” Zephia pulled her aside. “When we left their village, I said you would never be able to relieve the world’s suffering, but perhaps that doesn’t matter. Tonight you saved a child's life. When I told that boy’s mother you could possibly heal her son, the look in her eyes—” Zephia’s chest rose and fell in a long sigh. “It eased my soul, seeing another mother with hope for her child. Perhaps your fate isn’t to hide away.”
Laidra’s heart warmed at the thought. She smiled at the two boys, still locked in an embrace, but she remembered Calen. Her gaze fell. “If I could find a way to help people, it would mean everything to me, but abandoning Calen would feel like tearing myself in half.”
“Perhaps we can find a way to do both. There’s a deserted temple near here.” Zephia pointed towards the horizon. “It’s at the foot of a mountain, built into the stone itself, with twisting passages where Calen could find shelter.” Zephia tapped her fingers against her chin. “Boy!”
Hapir looked up from his brother. “Yes, my goddess?”
Zephia winced. “No. Please, don’t call me that. I will return you and your brother to your home, but then I would speak with your village elders. We have something to offer them, but we’ll need some things in return.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Volen punched the palace wall, but the marble was unyielding to his assault. A jolt of pain rocketed up his wrist from his bruised knuckles, but he shook it off and turned on the cringing messenger. His father, draped on his throne, halfway through his fifth goblet of wine, raised an eyebrow.