by H. L. Burke
“Captain, it’s the girl!” one of the soldiers called.
A taller man with a plumed helmet approached. He carried no torch but held a long spear as well as a short sword.
His eyes narrowed. “So, you’re the mysterious veiled healer? Our spy said you derive your powers from the serpent in the caves. Well, that’s done with now. The prince has ordered us to collect the beast and bring him to the capital.”
Laidra's knees weakened. Cibron had been telling the truth. She couldn't let Volen capture Calen, but what could she do to stop him?
“You don’t realize what you’re doing.” Hands clasped, she stepped forward, but the captain aimed his spear at her stomach. Her heart thumped. She couldn't help Calen if she were dead. “He’s dangerous,” she stammered, craning her neck to watch the men marching on her sanctuary. “In this form, he doesn’t know anything but instinct. If you leave him alone, no one will get hurt, but if you try to capture him, he could kill all of you.”
The captain snorted. “My men are trained soldiers. I think they can handle a slinking reptile.”
Laidra bit her tongue. I hope he devours you and your men whole—but wasn’t that Calen’s worst nightmare? He'd rather die than hurt so many people. Her head swam. Perhaps the soldiers ending Calen's half-life would be the best thing for him, but Laidra wasn’t sure she could give up the last bit of him she had left. As the soldiers disappeared into the sanctuary, she trembled.
Oh unknown god, please don’t let anyone die—especially not Calen. Zephia, why did you have to leave now?
A distant scream split the night, and Laidra stiffened. The captain stood unmoved, his eyes glistening in the moonlight. At his side, the two soldiers who had blocked her path shifted from foot to foot.
Another cry echoed from the sanctuary, louder this time. Something crashed. Metal clattered across stone. A handful of soldiers burst through the columns onto the path.
Calen exploded from the sanctuary.
Perhaps he had smelled them and attacked. Perhaps they’d roused him from his cavern. Whatever the cause, rage shone in his green eyes, which sparked in the darkness like emeralds. Soldiers lunged at him, swords drawn. Calen’s tail whipped about and knocked a man from the path. Two men crumpled to the ground while a third skidded over the edge and landed at the bottom of the cliff with a sickly thud.
“You have to stop!” Laidra cried.
“We’re supposed to bring him in alive!” the captain shouted towards his men. One lassoed Calen around the neck, but the snake jerked away. Calen struck like lightning. His fangs penetrated the man's shoulder. He shook him like a dog shakes a bone before tossing him to the side and turning on another attacker.
Laidra gulped. The fight was slowly making its way down the path. What if Calen ended up in the middle of the sleeping petitioners? How many would he harm in his frenzy?
She grabbed the captain by the shoulder. “I can soothe him.”
He shook her off with a glare.
“Please!” she begged. “He’ll never let you take him alive, but I can charm him into submission. Just call off your men.”
The captain hesitated, glancing from her to the men locked in battle with the ferocious serpent. A scream of agony jolted into them.
“Go!” He stepped aside.
Laidra rushed up the path. Her stomach twisted, but she focused on the shining green of Calen’s eyes. “Get … away … from him!” she wheezed. Her sides ached by the time she reached the knot of surviving soldiers.
The half-dozen men stood close to each other, spears and swords out, eyes glued on the swaying Calen. With his foes packed together, the serpent seemed unable to choose a target. His tongue flicked in and out, his fringe standing upright along his back.
Laidra swallowed. Calen had the upper hand. If she let him defend himself, he would survive the night, but if any of his humanity remained, it would cringe at the lives taken.
She stepped towards the men. Only two had kept hold of their torches, but Calen’s glowing eyes made his movements trackable, even in deep shadow.
“Calen!”
The snake tilted towards her voice. One of the soldiers flinched and gasped. Calen turned to spit at the sound.
“Don’t move!” Laidra snapped.
The men stiffened like corpses.
She pushed her way through, never taking her eyes from Calen. The snake lowered his head. Wishing she had her pipes, she slipped off her veil to look him in the eyes. His long neck bent until his face was even with her. The acrid smell of serpent blood tainted the air from his unseen injuries.
“Shh.” She cupped her hands around his great jaws. He quivered beneath her touch. Her healing powers rushed through her and into him like a warm breeze. His head grew heavier in her hands as the muscles along his back relaxed. She rocked him back and forth, lowering him to the ground until she could sit with his head in her lap and stroke his scales. The night enveloped them in dark and quiet.
Calen gazed up at her like the wounded animal he had become. Again, her heart ached for his human soul. She pressed her cheek against his scales, remembering his embrace, his voice, his laugh.
“A miracle,” the captain’s voice rose over the silence. “As docile as a newborn lamb.”
Laidra shuddered. What fate had she handed Calen over to?
“Just go. If you leave him alone, no one will be hurt.” She kept her gaze on Calen lest the spell break. “Please, I know he looks like a monster, but he’s not.”
“If we return empty-handed, Prince Volen will throw us into the Brigyn Sea.” The captain scoffed. “We brought a cage on wheels. Guide him into it.”
Footsteps crunched on the fine rocks of the path, coming closer to her.
“Stop, or I will set him on you!” Laidra snarled.
The captain inhaled sharply, but the steps silenced. Laidra’s shoulders shook. Why couldn't Volen let them be? Wasn’t Calen’s life miserable enough? She couldn’t let Volen take him, but now that they’d been discovered, the prince would only send more men, forcing Calen to kill to defend himself—or eventually he would be overwhelmed and slain.
Her mind churned. Someone needed to speak for Calen. If Volen understood how little of a threat Calen was, he’d either have to leave them alone or end Calen’s life just to be vindictive.
Zephia could face down either of them easily. Going along with these soldiers buys us time. If Zephia doesn’t get there in time, it will be up to me to get Calen through this. Oh unknown god, give me strength and cunning.
“I will let you take him to the prince on two conditions.” She looked over her shoulder at the soldiers. “You do not harm him, and you allow me to come with him and speak to the prince about his fate.”
The captain pursed his lips. “I fear my honor will be in the hands of the prince. I can ensure the beast’s safety until we reach the palace, but upon presenting him to Prince Volen, his fate will be out of my hands.”
“I understand.” Laidra closed her eyes. She had to make Volen yield, to show him Calen was no longer a threat. He and Calen were brothers. Their uncle’s curse had put them at odds for years, but that had now ended. Volen needed to listen to her. Though she knew her gamble could cost Calen what little life he had left, it was the only hand she had left to play.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Laidra kept one hand atop Calen’s head. The wagon bumped along the road beneath them, and he quivered. Cross-legged beside him, she bent over him.
“Quiet, Calen,” she whispered. “We’re almost there.”
They rolled down the stone-paved road towards the towering white buildings of the capital. Laidra’s breath left her. The castle loomed over the city like a mountain above foothills. It was easily four times the size of the Olevan palace that had been her entire world for the first sixteen years of her life.
The soldiers led the wagon down the city streets. Laidra rested her head against Calen, hoping he didn’t rise from the wagon bed and cause a panic.
Nearly three days of travel, and no sign of Zephia. In her head, Laidra went over what she might say to Gan and Volen, but the words seemed foolish and weak. She comforted herself with the thought that Calen could still escape danger if she and his mother failed him. He’d fought off a dozen men at the sanctuary; if he turned on Volen, the prince would need an army to defend him.
The wagon ground to a halt. Laidra stood up, blinking. Ahead, the street opened up, joining a well-paved road choked with chariots. This caravan blocked the entrance to the palace.
“Looks like a foreign emissary,” the captain mumbled. “Poor timing.”
An invisible hand grabbed Laidra by the throat, stealing her breath. Above the chariot fluttered a dusky green standard with a white olive tree. The Olevan flag. Could it be her parents? Why here? Why now?
“We’ll take the back way,” the captain continued. “Once we’re safe in the rear courtyard, we’ll send a message to the prince letting him know we’ve returned with the serpent.”
Laidra’s heart thumped. She imagined herself and Calen cornered in a small, dark space, completely at Volen’s mercy. Unacceptable. She had to maneuver this to give Calen every possible advantage.
“No, we will see the king and the prince in the throne room,” she ordered.
The captain turned to her, his shoulders back and his eyebrows arched as if certain she’d gone mad.
Laidra straightened her posture, crossing her arms over her chest. “I am a princess and Calen is a prince. We deserve to be received as royalty, not hidden from public view.”
The captain shook his head. “The king will never allow it.”
“Calen.” Laidra snapped her fingers.
The snake jerked to life. His head rose until it was even with hers, his tongue flicking in and out and his green eyes glinting.
A vein throbbed in the captain’s forehead. Several of his men quailed away from the wagon. All eyes focused on Calen’s swaying body.
“You were saying, captain?” Laidra smiled.
He cleared his throat. “The prince will have our heads.”
“You’re simply obeying his orders. He asked to have Calen delivered to him, did he not?”
A woman gave an ear-splitting shriek. “What is that?”
Across the street, several heads turned to stare at Calen, who hissed. Laidra placed her hand on the side of his neck.
“Not yet. Come with me.” She scrambled out of the wagon.
Calen slipped over the side and slithered after her, his head at her shoulder and the rest of his body moving in serpentine fashion.
“I suggest you clear us a path,” Laidra called to the captain.
It proved unnecessary. The crowd parted before them like frightened goats, gathering in whispering groups, pointing and staring at the massive snake who followed a veiled woman like a puppy.
As they approached the palace steps, a group of guards formed ranks before them. Their spearheads glinted in the sunshine. Calen’s muscles tensed beneath Laidra’s fingers.
“Shh,” she whispered.
“Hold up!” The captain rushed to her side.
The leader of the guard’s mouth dropped open, then his expression hardened. “Captain Birne? I thought you were on special assignment.”
“I am, Farvel. This is my assignment.” The captain nodded at Laidra and Calen.
Laidra observed their surroundings out of the corner of her eye. The Olevan coaches were pulled to the side of the courtyard at the bottom of the steps. She could see no sign of her parents. Perhaps they weren’t there, or perhaps they’d already gone inside. She couldn't let the possibility of seeing her family again distract her. Calen was her true family, not the ones who had cast her aside.
“I demand an audience with Prince Volen.” To her surprise, her voice came out clear and loud, though inwardly she trembled.
“And who are you?” Farvel tilted his head.
“Princess Laidra of Oleva,” said a calm but familiar voice.
Laidra stared past the line of guards. Ellea stepped from the columns at the top of the stairs. At her side stood Volen, and behind her, with their eyes and mouths wide-open, were King Lucan and Queen Perys. Something in Laidra twisted at the sight of her parents. So much of her life had been spent longing for them to love her. Now, from the look in her mother’s eyes, Laidra might as well have been a monster, though perhaps some of that shock was aimed towards the creature at Laidra’s side. Lucan, however, had a softer expression, almost sad. Her heart ached to believe he’d in some way missed her or regretted her rumored death.
“It has been a long time, sister,” Ellea continued.
Laidra stiffened. Ellea’s eyes seemed warm and her expression more open, not at all what Laidra remembered. Still, experience said that any kindness from her sister was a trap.
“What are you doing here?” Perys’s hands clenched.
A smile quirked Laidra’s mouth. Ah Mother, you haven’t changed, but I have. Perys's words had lost their power. Perhaps experiencing Zephia's unconditional maternal love had freed Laidra from her own mother's scorn. The deficiency lay in Perys, not Laidra. Laidra wished she had realized that sooner; it would've saved her many tearful nights.
Volen’s lower lip shook. His eyes followed Calen’s movements. “Captain Birne, what is the meaning of this?”
“The captain simply followed your orders.” Laidra sniffed. “You sent him after Calen. He brought you Calen, but on my terms.”
“Little witch!” Volen growled. “Guards, strike her down!”
Behind him, Lucan gave a strangled protest. Several guards raised their spears. Calen hissed and whipped forward. His wedge-like skull hit the first guard in the chest, knocking him back into his comrades. His tail thrashed, and the men fell like a line of reeds bent in the wind.
“Stop!” Laidra ordered. “Volen, call off your men, and I will calm Calen.”
“Hold off!” The voice was Gan’s. The king emerged from the palace, his dark gaze intent on Calen.
“Come to me,” Laidra called.
With a hiss, Calen slithered back down the steps. His body twined about Laidra, twisting around her legs and up her torso until his head rested upon her shoulder. She stroked his scales as a gasp of awe spread through the crowd.
Gan shook his head. “Volen, I told you to let well enough alone. Now look what you’ve brought to our doorstep.”
Volen flushed.
“What do you want, girl?” Gan crossed his arms.
“I want you to leave Calen at peace. He's harmless if not threatened, and he’s been through enough.”
“As long as he lives, Father, my claim to the throne could be challenged.” Volen extended a finger towards Calen. “Am I your heir, or am I not? Let me deal with this monster once and for all.”
A group of servants peered from around the columns. Laidra stiffened. One of them, an old man carrying a clay pot, had unnervingly blue eyes. Hot rage welled in her chest. Cibron. The vindictive half-god still lurked, observing the tragedy he himself had set in motion.
She narrowed her eyes. “You are fulfilling your uncle’s every wish, Volen.”
“No, I’m taking my fate in my hands.” The prince’s lip curled. “You think you do him a mercy, keeping my blade from his neck? You only prolong his misery.”
“He may yet be cured.” But even as she said it, doubt shook her. “He’s all I have. I know his heart, his gentle spirit. They remain, buried but alive. I won’t let you harm him.”
“And how will you stop me?” Volen smirked.
“Volen.” Ellea tilted her head and pursed her lips. “My husband, is this truly worth a fight? Let my sister keep her pet snake and be content with what we have together.”
Laidra started. She scanned Ellea’s face for signs of humor, a glint in her eye or a curve of her lips to give away her sarcasm, but her expression was plaintive, as if she wanted nothing more than for Volen to turn from his rage and come to her side.
Volen waved dismissively. “Go primp in front of your mirror and leave matters of state to me.”
Ellea’s cheeks reddened.
“Father, if I am your heir, you must trust me to make choices,” Volen said. “If Carta is to remain safe and whole under one king, that serpent must die.”
“And the girl?” Gan arched an eyebrow.
“If she stands aside, she will come to no harm. She’s of no consequence and therefore no threat.”
Laidra’s arms tightened about Calen. Her world swam and her pulse pounded. I need to do something, say something. But her tongue wouldn’t budge.
Gan shrugged. “It does seem a mercy to end it.”
“No!” The word came out of Laidra in a squeak.
Calen’s fringe stood on end, and he uncoiled to sway between her and the guards.
A wind rushed through the crowd, rippling Laidra’s skirts. She grasped her veil, lest it blow away. Sparks floated on the breeze then gathered into a column on the palace steps. Laidra’s heart lightened. A shout rose from the crowd, and Gan’s scowl deepened as his wife formed before him.
“Never one to graciously accept defeat, were you, Zephia?”
She stared past him to where Cibron lurked. “Only you could see losing one of your sons as a victory, Gan. You’ve played into your brother’s hands, and now he stands by, watching as you allow one son to fall upon the other.”
Gan stiffened. He flicked his gaze about the gathered crowd. “Cibron, reveal yourself.”
Cibron dropped the earthen vessel he was carrying which shattered. The aged skin of Cibron’s disguise melted like candle wax. He stepped before his brother, ageless and strong, mouth firm and blue eyes twinkling with mischief.
Gan’s nostrils flared. “You dare show your face in my kingdom?”
“Yours, mine, it’s all in the family.” Cibron chuckled. “Enjoying how my little game has played out?”
Gan took a step forward, fists raised, but Lucan grabbed his shoulder.
“Think on what you're doing,” Lucan hissed. “He’s a god, for gods’ sake!”