The Python of Caspia

by Michael Green

  Well, he’s right. She has the best hair.

  Taking the silence as a sign, Dean nudged him. “That’s right, buddy.”

  A sudden explosion rang out in the distance. A fireball rose over the trees.

  Everyone on the field ran for the gate that separated the exercise area from the rest of the school. The only holdout was the new girl, who stared at the rising smoke.

  Dean also seemed oddly at ease.

  “Shouldn’t we run too?”

  “Nah, it’s just lunch. You in a rush for cardboard pizza?” Dean replied, most of his attention still on the new girl.

  “But the explosion.”

  A score of armored police cars sporting mounted machine guns drove past. They were escorting a bulldozer to the site of the blast.

  “Quick response,” Andy said.

  Dean ignored him, and suddenly turned away from the field. “She’s looking over here.”

  He glanced and saw the new girl was gazing their way. He felt his cheeks flush, and then immediately was angry.

  Why do I care if the new girl looks at me?

  He pushed Dean towards the gate. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

  Dean peeked over his shoulder as they went. “She’s coming this way.”

  “I don’t care.”

  They shuffled with the mass of people at the narrow gates. Dean was clearly annoyed, but he went with Andy despite that.

  “Hey, Dean!” a female voice called to them from somewhere in the crowd.

  Andy stepped back just in time to dodge a plush ball that smacked Dean in the face.

  It was Letty and Emma. They were whispering between themselves.

  Dean picked up the ball. “They’ve got another thing coming, if they think they’re getting this back.”

  The crowd cleared and Letty, with Emma in tow, approached the two boys. “Did you see the new girl at cheer practice?”

  “What do you care? You aren’t even in cheer,” Dean fired back.

  What grade am I in? I thought we didn’t have cheer.

  Ignoring the girls, Andy spoke, “Hey Dean. What year are we?”

  Letty laughed, patting his forehead carefully. “That hit took it out of you. Maybe sit out the next game.”

  “Yeah, maybe you should, Andy. I’m starting to worry,” Dean replied.

  Andy was about to angrily repeat his question, but someone else spoke first.

  “Hello, may I join your party?”

  They all turned and saw the new girl. She had caught up with them and was looking shy but brave.

  Wow, she’s stunning. Better not let Dean know I think so, it might upset him. Wait—did she say, ‘May I join your party?’ Who talks like that?

  “Uh, sure—” Dean answered.

  “No way, new girl,” Letty said, standing off against her.

  Emma scoffed. “Go beg for attention somewhere else.”

  The new girl smirked at Emma. “Maybe skip the vomitorium. You look like you might die, just standing there, and you’ll clear up that awful breath in the process,” she finished by rolling her eyes, and then looked at Letty. “You on the other hand, might want to tone it down at lunchtime. Maybe stick to greens for a few months.”

  Dean was smirking, and the girls shared a horrified look.

  Andy looked at the girls and felt confused by what he saw.

  They don’t look right. Letty is too large and Emma is too small.

  Instead of arguing, or hurling another string of insults, Letty and Emma wore defeated looks.

  “Would you gentlemen care to escort me to the cafeteria?” the new girl asked.

  Dean leaped to it and took her arm. She looked at Andy questioningly.

  “Don’t mess this up for me,” Dean leaned in and whispered.

  “Sure,” he said, following along. “What’s your name?”

  She paused for just a second before answering, “Thea.”

  Andy felt himself walking to the cafeteria under a fog of tedious compliments and pointless questions from Dean to Thea. Letty and Emma followed along, but were silent.

  They found all the tables full, but Thea walked up to one and, in an instant, everyone sitting there stood, took their trays, and left.

  Andy sat and prepared himself to stomach the pizza and tater-tots served by the cafeteria. He looked away as he took a bite, and was shocked when the pizza was delicious. Though he hadn’t seen how the pizza had arrived on a plate before him, its flavor was enough to forgive that.

  “So, Thea, what classes are you taking?” Dean asked, nearly simpering.

  Andy ignored them as he noticed something strange about the table.

  He moved his tray to the bench and got a closer look at the table top.

  Someone has drawn something here. It looks like a map.

  He instinctively reached for a breast pocket, but found he didn’t have one.

  That’s odd. I know I have a sketch pad somewhere though.

  He was surprised to find a small notepad in his pants pocket.

  “Hey—put that down and join us,” Thea said.

  Glancing over, he saw that everyone was annoyed with him, Dean especially.

  “Just a second,” he said, equally annoyed.

  In his attempt to copy the image he realized that he would need a far larger piece of paper. After pushing aside a few three-ringed folders, and frustrating his peers in the process, he had a fuller grasp of the image.

  It’s the globe. And the writing, the writing is in English. That’s important. But the glowing, they aren’t glowing letters, but numbers.

  He started writing the numbers down.

  I think these are coordinates.

  “You make me so happy,” Thea said to him, her voice full and overpowering.

  He blinked and the map twisted. The curved lines bent into the contours of a concrete sidewalk.

  He looked up and saw his hand holding a corsage. He was holding it out to her.

  Smiling, she took it and pinned it to a ribbon at her wrist.

  Things are changing.

  Dancing music poured out of the assembly hall, and with it came a constant stream of couples. Looking flushed from dancing. The students were dressed in ill-fitting tuxedos and colorful dresses.

  This isn’t right, I was just eating lunch.

  “Look at them, Cas. Everything is either too big, disastrously small, or stupidly colored,” she hinted at a neon green, strapless pencil dress.

  I was writing something down.

  His hand went for his pocket, but Thea caught it midair and grasped tightly.

  “Here, take one,” Thea said, pulling out two pieces of chewing gum. She put one in her mouth and held the other one out for him.

  He rolled his eyes but took it between his teeth and chewed.

  If it will shut her up.

  It tasted like honey and then cinnamon, as he chewed.

  “Let’s go in,” she whispered in his ear.

  “Sure,” he said, feeling a pain behind his eyes.

  “You look brilliant.” She smirked and ran a hand over his shoulder.

  Feeling a twinge of self-consciousness, Caspian checked that his coat was laying correctly and then ran a finger over his cuff-links. He looked at his shoes as he walked and saw a remarkable polish shine back. By some long-lost habit he twisted his neck, forcing it to crack. He took in a deep breath of the cool evening air. It was invigorating. He felt the cords in his arms and chest ripple as he stretched in his suit. Thea smiled at him and he gazed into the sky at the chilly moon.

  Thea slipped her arm into his and gave him a slight jab. “Let’s not keep everyone waiting,” she said.

  They turned and walked past the groups still waiting to get in. He raised a sneering brow at a pair of couples too slow in getting out of their way.

  “She looks amazing,” whispered one girl. “She had surgery,” scoffed another.

  “Careful now,” Caspian said to the group, his sharp eye moving from male to male. The
y balked.

  At the door, the ticket taker stepped aside to let them in.

  I’ve never seen a disco ball before.

  He felt a wave of despair and wonder as countless refracting beams of light sped around the room, simultaneously illuminating and then concealing the couples. The feeling clashed with his burgeoning sense of strength.

  Something’s not right, but I feel so—

  She took his hand and put an arm around his shoulder. He put his hands around her waist and felt his feet move, as if they knew the steps all on their own.

  Thea sighed and laid her head on his chest as they danced. They danced through a dozen songs. It was a dreamlike blur. At one point, as he came up for air, he opened his eyes and realized the floor had emptied, and the hundreds of others stood clear of their dance.

  The songs ended again and again, before Thea finally looked up at him. He blinked and saw that the hall was back to normal. Everyone was dancing.

  “I propose a challenge, something you should enjoy, love,” she said mischievously, putting a finger on his chin and pulling his attention back from the lively company. For a moment he saw something like fear flash in her eyes.

  “Oh?” He said.

  She took a long heavy needle from her hair, causing it to tumble down. “See this?” She waved the pin.

  “Yes. What are you getting at?”

  She twisted at the top. “It’s a flask. There’s something special inside.”

  He nearly missed a step.

  “Careful now, it’s not that bad. But we’re going to play—and the loser has to drink first.”

  “The drink is a punishment?” he asked.

  “No. Whoever loses, loosens up.”

  There couldn’t possibly be enough alcohol in that needle, even if it is the size of a chopstick.

  Before he could ask what she meant, Thea left his side and worked her way off the dance floor. She went up to a rather dour looking fellow standing by himself against the wall. He couldn’t hear what she was saying over the music, but at one point she gestured across the hall to a sad girl, also standing alone.

  The dour fellow seemed baffled as Thea left. A huge grin worked its way across her face. She ran up to Caspian, causing another couple to stumble as she pushed past. She wrapped her arms around him before breaking out in laughter.

  “Is he going?” She peeked up from his shoulder and looked, “Oh no, he’s going to do it!”

  “Did you tell him to ask that girl to dance?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” she slapped him playfully across the cheek, “of course I didn’t—oh look, they’re going to dance.”

  “Well done,” he said, unsure of whether this was cruel.

  “Now it’s your turn,” she said pushing him away.

  He stumbled backwards into another couple, mumbled a curt apology, and looked around the room for an easy target.

  He saw the odd couple that Thea had just put together. It looked like they were making awkward conversation. The male pointed over to him and Thea.

  That girl. I think I know her.

  He moved through the crowd to get closer.

  The girl had a sudden look of recognition on her face and he heard Thea laugh again. “Not them, Cas, find someone else,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  The girl had a wounded look on her face and ran for the back door.

  Her name is Letty.

  The back door opened and he saw two specks of brilliant light coming from the next room.

  “She really ran for it, what did you say?” Thea was all smiles and instantly at his side.

  He ignored her and pushed his way through the crowd and was confronted by the dour kid.

  “That was very rude, what you pulled!” He gestured to the door.

  Astonished, he felt an indignant and aggressive impulse to attack, but that urge was mixed with remorse and disgust. He stared into the dour face, his mouth agape, before finally saying, “I’m sorry.”

  The dour face softened, despite itself.

  “What?” Thea grabbed his arm as he walked towards the door. “You’re just going to let him speak that way to you?”

  He was surprised by her strength, but refused to relent, and she slid across the smooth wooden floor in her high heels.

  He pushed open the door and saw what he suspected was a painting, incongruously existing as part of the wall in the storage room. Though it was dark, and piles of furniture blocked the image, he saw the two points of light. He pushed aside a stack of chairs to get a closer look.

  “You lose,” she spoke angrily, gesturing with the needle, “and now it’s time to have a drink.”

  “In a minute,” he said, flipping on a light switch.

  A calm, weather-worn face stared at him from the wall. Two shimmering eyes looked into his.

  I know this man.

  He wore a blackened helmet, which reminded him of those worn by the conquistadors. Paired with the helm was a heavy breastplate. His hand lay above his heart, and on his wrist was a symbol which glowed much like the eyes.

  I know that symbol too.

  He went for his breast pocket but felt a hand wrap around his wrist.

  He looked and saw Thea lean in. “I’m far more interesting, Cas.”

  Cas?

  She leaned in to kiss him, but her lips landed on his cheek. He was still and refused to meet her waiting lips. She burrowed her face into his shoulder and breathed heavily.

  “I thought I’d find something in here to bring you back. I feel it—you’re so close.”

  Behind her stood a prop mirror, and when he looked into the reflection, he saw a stranger staring back.

  His head hurt.

  He pulled away and gave her a calm smile. “What’s my name?”

  She brushed her fingers across his cheek, “Always a stupid game with you, Caspian.” She lifted the opened flask to his lips.

  He tore away from her.

  “What’s wrong?” she cried.

  The door to the hall burst open, but instead of the hundreds of dancers, there was a rain drenched field, littered with smoking wreckage.

  She dropped the needle and her eyes widened.

  He heard slow and heavy footsteps entering the room.

  Thea grabbed his wrist and spoke plainly, “We are not here.”

  But before she finished speaking, he had wrenched himself free. There was a small puff of wind, and she was gone. Eyes wide, he stared at the empty space.

  The footsteps were faster, and he backed against the wall.

  Panicking, he said the first thing that came to mind, “I am not here!”

  Chapter 16

  The Escape

  He tumbled down stairs as a piece of dark, heavy cloth tangled in his legs. On his hands and knees, his mind raced.

  Thea! She’s—where is she?

  Looking around, he thought the stairwell was familiar. He felt something resting on his brow and swatted at it, thinking it was a bug, but to his surprise he nicked his hand on something dense and sharp.

  He removed the headgear and gave it a close look. It was a bronze wreath. It too was familiar.

  He returned it to his brow and freed his tangled legs from the cloth. He picked it up, but was startled when a small silver orb appeared from beneath the folds.

  Certain it was important, he lunged down the stairs, and caught the orb.

  Splayed out, he stared at it for a long moment.

  This is an Argument. It doesn’t belong to me. I borrowed it, and I must return it.

  He couldn’t remember who it belonged to.

  His head was foggy. What should have been basic knowledge was past fleeting. Bare images of faces jogged through his mind, yet not a single name rose with any of them. He felt himself panic, and his hand tightened around the Argument as if the action were a reflex. Its closeness was comforting and that fact made him further doubt his sanity.

  Pushing away the sense of madness, he looked closely at the marble.
What is it about this thing? I know, it—guards me. But that thought felt unbalanced. He wondered if he was dreaming.

  Getting nowhere, he forced himself to forget the Argument by putting it in his pocket. I need to be practical. He looked for more clues. He picked up the cloth, and realized that it was a cloak. He put it on, grinned at the absurdity of it, and the pieces of armor he wore, before finally turning around. His jaw dropped when he saw a massive hall lined with pillars the size of sequoias.

  He took a few steps into the hall and looked the pillars up and down.

  The carving and all the bones, even this weird fish-scale floor, I know it. I know this room; I’ve been here before.

  He walked up the hall, passing between the pillars and forcing his memory to abandon its opacity and show what he had done here. The grandeur of the hall implied that, whatever it was must have been important.

  His memory refused to jar.

  He sighed and returned to the stairs, before leaning against a wall. I can’t remember—wait. He felt something poking him in the side. He reached in his pants pocket and found a notebook stuffed tightly within. He struggled for a moment, before finally pulling it free.

  Recognition and ignorance don’t belong together, Andy thought to himself, knowing he had written in this notebook, but not remembering the words.

  Feeling petulant and hopeless he flipped open the notebook.

  He saw sketches. It was his own drawing and writing. Every image seemed familiar, and only familiar, until he reached the last drawing.

  Rembrandt. He’s wearing armor here.

  He looked closely and remembered the original.

  His eyes glowed. He was on a wall. Wait—Thea?

  He remembered the dance.

  We were at school, in the assembly hall.

  He flipped the notebook back a page and saw his sketch of the man fighting against the sea monster.

  I know this! I saw this—from a boat? No…

  His eyes widened.

  I saw it with Letty and Dean—I’m sure!

  He turned the notebook back another page and then another. Slowly the course of events sewed itself back into coherency.

  The bladed monster. It chased me, and that’s when I found—no, that’s when Pythia found me.