Venom

by Bex Hogan

  Before he leaves, though, Bronn turns to me, his voice soft once more. ‘I have made a lot of mistakes. But not today. I’m not proud of hurting Ferris, but it needed to be done. It worked. The truth is you’re not the head of the King’s Fleet; you’re not a paragon of justice. You’re the Viper. There’s a reason it’s called that. You don’t have the luxury of doing the right thing – sometimes you have to do what’s necessary. If you haven’t got the stomach for it, then maybe I should be the Viper.’

  And just like that he’s gone, shattering my heart into pieces. Maybe he’s right, maybe I did make the wrong decision – it wouldn’t be the first time. But not for the reason he thinks. I can stomach it. In fact, I wanted to kill Ferris and his crew – all of them – slowly, painfully, brutally. The darkness that I’ve tried so hard to bury had surfaced with fresh intensity, and in the moment I’d fired at the gunpowder and blown the ship to pieces I didn’t want to save the world. I wanted to destroy it.

  I cannot learn magic if I cannot control my darkness. I cannot save the East if I cannot learn magic. But there it is, all the time. The desire to hurt, to punish, to control. And so I’m constantly trying to compensate for it, veering too far the other way and making mistakes.

  Now my authority is challenged and my relationship is in tatters.

  The truth has never been kind. But, deep down, I don’t trust Bronn. Not completely. Though I know his reasons, though it was a long time ago, a part of me hasn’t forgiven him for his past betrayals. For hurting me every day with his cold indifference. For pushing me into the icy water that he knew I feared. That’s why I felt so jealous. I was scared. Of what he might be prepared to do to me again. And I’m punishing him unintentionally, afraid of my own insecurities.

  This has to end; I see that now. In some way I’ve always known. The journey that lies ahead of me, I must take alone, for both our sakes.

  Sacrifice.

  The prophetic word that’s haunted me has never rung truer. If I sacrifice him now, it may save him. It may save us both. Bronn will be free to live the life he’s always longed for, away from my shadow.

  It’s time to let him go.

  Once I’ve reached this conclusion, the wind miraculously returns and the charts seem to align with where we want to go, as if the waters had been waiting, delaying my journey until I made the right choice. The West wants me here alone.

  When the Eighth Isle comes into view several days later, Bronn shows up at my cabin. Immediately my heart sinks, because I can see he’s come to make amends, all his defences low to fix the distance between us. I’m going to have to crush him and it’s more than I can bear.

  ‘We’re here,’ he says, a relieved smile on his face. ‘The crew are preparing to go on land.’

  ‘Tell them to stop,’ I say and watch confusion crease his face. ‘They’re not coming.’

  ‘You want to take a small team over first?’

  I sigh and rise to my feet. ‘No, I’m going alone.’

  Bronn’s watching me carefully, and I know my meaning isn’t lost on him. ‘I don’t think so,’ he says. ‘That wasn’t the plan.’

  ‘The plan’s changed.’ And my voice has grown hard. Like my heart.

  ‘I’m coming with you, Marianne.’

  ‘No, you’re not.’

  For a minute we just stare at each other, opponents in a game without rules.

  ‘Look, I know things have been strained between us recently, that it’s been a difficult journey. The other day I said things I shouldn’t have, that I didn’t mean …’

  ‘You meant every word,’ I say, but there’s no accusation in my voice. ‘And you were right. I was wrong about how to question Ferris, I was wrong to think I should be Viper, and I was very wrong to expect you to stand by while I married Torin. I’ve been selfish, I see that now.’

  His conflict is an open wound and I press into it hard, forcing the pain, driving it through him until he breaks. It’s the only way to free him.

  ‘There’s nothing for you in the West, Bronn. Go home. Go East. Don’t let what you did to Ferris be in vain. Hunt Karn down and destroy him. Be the Viper, just as you always should have been.’

  ‘There’s nothing for me in the West? What about you? You think I’m going to leave you here?’

  ‘I have to do this alone.’

  Bronn steps towards me now. ‘We’ve come this far. Are we in this together or not?’

  My heart is breaking, but I show no sign of my pain. ‘Not.’

  I see it then in his eyes, the hurt, the cruelty of what I’m doing. The doubt.

  ‘Not?’ His voice falters.

  ‘You have a different path from me; you said it yourself. We can’t pretend any more.’

  ‘You don’t get to choose my path.’ His pain is turning to anger.

  ‘Yes, I do. I’m your captain.’ I fix my fiercest gaze on him. ‘Go home. Keep Torin safe. Protect the East. They are your orders, Snake.’

  That’s done it, landed the blow with the same accuracy as if I’d knifed him in the guts. His jaw clenches as he withdraws into himself, a wall of cold hostility now separating us.

  ‘Yes, Captain.’ Never have two words held so much contempt.

  And then he’s gone, taking the air from the room with him. Only when the door is shut do my legs give way and I collapse to the floor, smothering my sobs with my fist.

  I am alone. I am heartbroken. And I am lost.

  Even the dazzling spectacle of the sparkling sands that welcomed me back to the Eighth Isle wasn’t enough to lift my weary spirits. The tingle of magic that travelled up from the sand through my body may have been dizzying, but it only reminded me of the dangerous path I’ve chosen.

  I have left everything I know behind for half a hope, a vain belief that perhaps I can harness magic and can then somehow rally an army behind me. But I’ve already shown I can’t be trusted with magic. And to rally an army I will have to lay claim to a throne long left empty.

  And for what? For people who would have watched me hang rather than rise against their king. For a husband I abandoned and who is probably dead. For a man whose heart I just ripped out and who certainly now hates me.

  As I traipse my way through the marram forests, rain sluicing down the bamboo-like trunks and turning the sandy ground to sludge, I find one question dominates my thoughts.

  Who am I?

  Old Tatty said understanding that was the key to mastering magic, but I have no answers. Am I still the Viper? Perhaps, but an absent one at best. Am I the girl fighting for peace? Sometimes I think she died long ago, crushed by cruelties inflicted upon her. Or am I simply the fool who just turned her back on all she loved for her own selfish gains?

  I have no idea any more.

  So I push on, determined to stick to the only plan I have. To find Esther and hope she can show me the way.

  The problem is, I’m literally lost.

  The Storm approached the island from a different angle than I did when I came before, and I am further south-west this time, leaving me in entirely unknown terrain.

  My satchel contains only my essentials: compass, notebooks and a small supply of food and water. My dagger is lodged firmly in my belt, and the knowledge from the books planted deep in my brain. Anything else I might need, I hope Esther can provide once I find her.

  If I find her.

  All I know is the urgency to track north-east and reach the old woman before nightfall helps drown out the memories of leaving my crew behind. I left without saying goodbye, stowed away secretly under the moon’s blind gaze, certain that at the sight of Bronn I would lose all my resolve and stay. But I fear I shall never see him again, never have a chance to explain why I had to leave, never have an opportunity to tell him that, despite everything I’ve said, I love him with every breath in my body, and that every step away from him is a fresh wound to my tattered heart.

  The island is bigger than I’d realised from my limited experience of it, and I’m beginning to thin
k I might not reach Esther’s settlement today – or even tomorrow. Last time I was here, the island took me to her, but any hopes it might do the same again are slipping away.

  Until a clearing emerges up ahead. For a moment my heart lightens, and I think I’ve made it, but I quickly realise my mistake. This isn’t where Esther lives. This settlement is not only much bigger but is also shrouded in an unwelcoming atmosphere. Still, with the rain lashing down and the light fading, I’m running out of options, and so I cautiously approach the huts nestled in the forest.

  I have only ever met one Western inhabitant before and that was Esther. But all my life I’ve been taught these islands are lawless, the people desperate. I have no idea what I might be walking into here.

  Silently I creep through the trees, uncertain how my arrival might be received. But I see no one, the settlement quiet, the only sound the constant torrent of rain against the marram trees. The light is starting to dim, but I can still see well enough to notice a tall structure in the centre of the clearing, round which all the huts are positioned. Intrigued, I wander a little closer. It looks like an unlit pyre – bamboo branches of the marram grass woven together into a pyramid. A pit of ash circles the base of this monument, ringed by rocks that separate it from the sandy ground. At first I think perhaps it’s a communal meeting place, a bonfire to keep the people warm while they socialise, but then I see what’s attached to the pyramid and recoil.

  What I’d mistaken from a distance as decoration are body parts. Fingers, toes, ears, they’re all there. Clots of blood, not petals, adorn the bamboo. Clumps of hair hang from the branches, scalps torn from the living before they died. It is a shrine to despair.

  ‘Who are you?’

  The voice coming from behind chills me to the bone. I do not want to meet those responsible for such a construction.

  Slowly I turn round, my fingers itching to pull my blade free, but my head warning me to stay calm. There are four men in front of me, all with blond hair and pale skin, and they look so similar that they must be brothers.

  ‘I’m searching for a friend and lost my way,’ I say, hoping to convince them I’m no threat.

  ‘You shouldn’t have come here.’ The tallest of the four steps towards me.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, standing my ground, though I want to take a step backwards to maintain distance between us. ‘I won’t stay.’

  ‘No. I mean you shouldn’t have been able to come here,’ he says, and he’s frowning. ‘We have defences.’

  My mind races fast. What kind of defences? I saw nothing. And why would they need them anyway?

  ‘Are you one of them?’ the tall man asks, while the other three stare on with cold expressions.

  ‘One of who?’ I’m stalling now, trying to decide whether to fight or flee.

  ‘She can’t be,’ one of the other men says. ‘We’re protected.’

  ‘But she’s here, isn’t she?’ another argues. ‘Maybe our protections have failed.’

  ‘Or maybe we need more powerful shields,’ the tallest suggests, before looking back at me. ‘I do not think you’re one of the Hooded,’ he says. ‘Are you?’

  ‘No,’ I say, wondering who the Hooded might be to inspire such fear.

  ‘Are you a witch?’

  ‘No,’ I say again, this time not certain which answer would be the right one.

  ‘You must have some magic to pass on to our land,’ the youngest of the men says. ‘Our offerings to the shadow demons have kept us safe from intruders for a long time, yet now here you are.’

  Shadow demons? Offerings? I’m not liking the sound of any of this.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the tallest man says. ‘Truly I am. But we will do whatever we must to protect our people, our land.’

  ‘I mean no harm to any of you,’ I say, sensing the shift in the air. I may not be a threat to them, but I can tell they most definitely are to me.

  ‘Whatever magic you possess should please the shadow demons. Your sacrifice will keep us protected for some time.’

  Sacrifice?

  The prospect of being carved up as an offering makes my blood run cold, and now I pull my dagger free. ‘Just let me go and we’ll pretend none of this happened,’ I say.

  ‘We can’t let you go,’ the man says. ‘Though we take no pleasure in it.’

  And before I can strike, something sharp hits my neck, instantly spreading a cold numbness through my body. One of the men has blown a dart into my skin, and whatever poison it was dipped in is rendering me immobile.

  They move in to catch me before I fall, and I want to fight but my limbs won’t work properly, and my blade drops from my hand.

  Their touch is rough as they hold me upright; I’m like a child’s rag doll in a violent game. I have never been so powerless, so unable to defend myself – a fact that terrifies me almost as much as the knowledge of what’s about to happen.

  The tallest man approaches me. ‘We’ll make this quick,’ he says, raising his weapon, a sharp arrowhead attached to a small handle. ‘And we thank you for your sacrifice.’

  One of the other men grabs a handful of my hair, holding it taut. Bloody hell, they’re going to scalp me where I stand. I can’t even close my eyes to hide from what’s coming, can’t ignore the dried blood still staining the weapon aimed at my head. But it also means I can’t help but see the massive bird as it swoops silently from the heavens, sharp claws aiming for his target.

  Talon is a deadly hunter, and he marks his prey, tearing flesh from the back of my attacker’s neck, making him cry out in pain and surprise.

  Shrieking a demand at the others to stay back, the sea vulture lands on my shoulder and removes the dart with his beak, before immediately commencing a fresh attack on the men who meant to kill me.

  I watch with a mixture of awe, admiration and horror as Talon targets their faces, scratching at eyes, cheeks, ears – anywhere vulnerable he can sink his claws into.

  With the dart removed my body is already beginning to return to normal. I can feel my blood flowing properly once again and will it to hurry up.

  ‘Kill the damn bird!’ The tall brother, now clutching at his neck where Talon attacked him, screams to one of the others, who stands watching in horror as Talon attacks his sibling, his fierce wings batting anyone away who comes close.

  ‘You’ll hurt him over my dead body,’ I warn, as I struggle to my feet, picking up my dagger as I do so.

  With all the strength I possess I hurl myself at the only uninjured brother, who’s taking aim at Talon, and knock us both to the ground, where I land a hefty blow to his head, rendering him unconscious. Then I call to Talon, wanting him to leave the other brother before he tears him to pieces. The bird obediently flies to land on my outstretched arm, screeching at the men to keep their distance.

  ‘I’m going to leave,’ I say, as they stare, struck with panic and shock. ‘If you try to stop me, or follow me, you’ll be the ones in pieces.’

  Before they can regroup, I stumble as fast as I can out of the clearing, allowing the forest to swallow me whole, Talon flying in front of me guiding the way.

  With poison still in my veins my legs aren’t functioning properly yet, but I don’t stop moving, getting back up every time I trip and fall. Talon stays silent, protecting our location, but keeps close to me, and his presence offers all the reassurance I need. I don’t know why he came after me, or how he found me, but I’m no longer in this strange place alone. It feels good to have a friend.

  ‘Can you find the way to Esther’s?’ I whisper to him, and he nuzzles my hair in reply.

  Through the night we keep moving, though the marram forest positively crackles with danger. But I know Talon’s sight isn’t affected by the darkness, and trust that he will warn me of any imminent threat as he leads me through the labyrinth of trees.

  The rain has mercifully stopped now, but the ground is still squelchy, and the damp has caused the ring of wind through the hollow bamboo trunks to take on a deeper ton
e. I can’t decide whether the sound is beautiful or eerie.

  Dawn breaks and still we don’t stop. I fear the brothers might be in pursuit or – worse – that whoever they’re afraid of might discover me. The Hooded. I don’t want to meet them right now.

  My body is almost entirely recovered from the poison dart. I’m hungry and thirsty, but determined not to stop until I’m in the safety of Esther’s enchanted clearing. Once I’m there, she can tell me what’s going on, and what I need to do. I just have to get there.

  It’s twilight when I recognise a familiar fork in the path that I know will lead me towards Esther, and a wave of relief floods through me. I’m almost there. But it doesn’t take long for that brief consolation to fade.

  Something’s wrong. The atmosphere is colder than I remember, the colours faded. The path that summoned me to Esther’s clearing once before now says nothing and I already know what I’m going to find long before the huts come into view.

  There is no one here.

  Esther’s absence is everywhere, from the withered leaves on the trees to the lack of birdsong in the air. I go to her house and peer inside. It’s empty, all trace of habitation long gone. Gone too are her jars, her potions that filled the shelves. I wander around looking for any sign of a struggle, any hint that something bad happened to her, but find nothing. It’s as if she simply disappeared from existence.

  I drift back outside, clueless as to what to do next. This was my entire plan. Without Esther I’m stranded on an island I know nothing about, with no way to learn magic, and no idea how to find the Guardians, or anyone else who can help me. And I scream with frustration.

  Talon flies to perch on the ground beside me, gently nipping at my leg. I open my satchel and take a small bit of sea biscuit out, breaking it in half for us to share. He swallows his piece whole while I nibble unenthusiastically on my half of the dry wafer. In the end I toss the last of it to Talon, who devours it in seconds.

  ‘What am I going to do?’ I say to him, stroking his feathers gently. The bird tilts his head at me, his gaze piercing. ‘I shouldn’t have left the others,’ I say, finding it comforting to confide in someone who can’t talk back. ‘I should have stayed in the East and rallied an attack on the palace to save Torin and kill the King.’ But even as I say the words I know it would never have worked. We’d have all died in the attempt, massively outnumbered by the King’s Guard. And then there would be no way to restore the peace. I’d rather have broken Bronn’s heart, and my own, than seen him dead.