by Marlow York
“Tarek is very protective of her,” Sarrenke continued. “Perhaps too protective. She has been asking to meet you ever since you arrived, but Tarek insists she needs bedrest. She is weak, yes, but we have been trying to convince him to let her outside more often. He brings her down here to bathe, but I do not think it is the same as truly enjoying the outdoors.”
I understood what she meant. It was true that sick people needed a lot of rest, but they wouldn’t get any better if they were depressed and never got to enjoy simple pleasures like walking outside.
I watched Saven slither up the small hill to look at Khero, who had been put in charge of watching over me so I wouldn’t sneak off in the night again. The massive wolf grumbled at the tiny snake, but Saven wasn’t frightened. I wondered if they could communicate with each other the way they could speak with Tarek and myself, in their minds.
Saven sniffed the air around Khero’s massive paws, and the wolf lowered his head to sniff the snake. He growled again, but Saven only tilted his head. Perhaps they were talking.
“Khero, is he bothering you?” I asked.
Khero heaved a heavy sigh, and I took that to mean “yes.”
“Saven, come back here,” I called.
Saven returned to my side and looked up at me expectantly. In some ways, he acted more like a dog than Khero did.
In the days that followed, I noticed Tarek seemed to be taking Sarrenke’s advice. Either that, or he could no longer hide Ria from me, if that had been his plan. Sometimes Ria would be sitting near the window, letting the afternoon sun warm her face. She was pretty, in a plain sort of way. Although we never had a real conversation, she always smiled kindly at me as I passed, even though I was a lowly slave. For that reason alone, I hoped she and her baby would survive.
As the days grew warm, Ria often walked across the field with Tarek at her side. One day, I spied on them from behind the open tent flap, observing the way she clung to his arm with her pale, thin hands. He matched her slow, halting pace all the way to the tree line. Once there, Ria sat on the grass with Tarek standing over her. Was he waiting irritably as the girl enjoyed the grass beneath her small feet, or was his stance protective and patient?
I ducked back into my tent to continue working on the fishing net I was mending. I watched as Saven weaved in and out of the objects within the tent, learning every nook and cranny of his new home. Many times in the weeks after he came to live with me, I found several snake skins among the buckets and boards. I collected them the way a mother collects a baby’s first handprints. He was growing much more quickly than I expected and would be as thick around as my arm by the end of the month.
A few minutes later, I heard one set of feet crunching through the tall grass. When I peeked outside, Tarek was carrying the exhausted girl in his strong arms. Her stomach was absurdly round compared to her malnourished frame. As Ria’s head rested against Tarek’s chest, I noticed the gentle expression on his stern face when he looked down at her. His lips moved as he murmured to her, and she smiled weakly in return. I was astounded, but relieved, to know that Tarek was capable of tenderness.
Chapter 10
Though spring nights were often cold, Saven and I were warm in our little storage hut. Perhaps it was only coincidence that I had rescued a baby snake, but it was convenient for Saven—a cold-blooded animal—to meet someone with fire in her blood. My captors didn’t know this, of course, and so they had given me extra blankets and a small metal stove that I could light fires in to stay warm at night.
I held a thin length of snake skin delicately with my fingertips. It was featherlight and appeared as fragile as paper.
“It’s stronger than it looks,” Saven said. He rubbed his nose against my arm, trying to shed one last piece of stubborn skin.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Before he could answer, the tent flap burst open, startling us both.
“Here, now,” Tarek demanded. He noticed the snake skin in my hand and snatched it away before I could protest. He looked at the skin, then at Saven. Did he too notice how quickly the snake was growing?
He pulled at the skin, meaning to tear it apart, but the papery material wouldn’t budge. He twisted it, yanked on it, but still it remained intact. His brows wrinkled with frustration, but he also seemed very interested.
He removed the knife—Juliano’s knife, I noted—from its sheath at his waist and dragged the skin across the blade. Both of us looked in awe as the material was unscathed.
Tarek looked at Saven, and the snake flicked his tongue. I sensed he was amused.
“More?” Tarek asked.
I shook my head.
“You bring it to me,” Tarek responded. Without another word, he spun on his heel and left. He seemed to have forgotten why he came looking for me in the first place.
“That’s incredible,” I told Saven. “Does that mean you can’t be cut?”
“Of course not,” he responded, cozying up to my neck. “It is difficult for mortal weapons to pierce the flesh of a god, but not impossible. That skin will wear out eventually. As we age, we grow stronger and more resilient. Unlike humans.”
“So, your mother’s skin must be nearly indestructible.”
“My mother is wonderful and strong. She is a goddess, after all. The first of my kind.” Saven’s voice was dreamy as he slowly drifted to sleep around my neck. Shedding must have exhausted him.
I smiled and nestled down into my bed of hay and blankets.
✽ ✽ ✽
Each time Saven shed his skin, Tarek eagerly collected the remains. At first, it seemed a strange and obsessive demand, but Sarrenke explained his reasoning.
“He plans to sell the skin to the village blacksmith,” she told me as we washed dishes down at the stream. “I’m sure the blacksmith has never seen material so resistant to sword or axe and will eagerly pay a hefty price for it. With some effort, the skin will be fashioned into incredible Warrior armor. Once there is enough of it, of course.”
Part of me felt the same sense of importance that Tarek must have felt. By providing such a rare material, we were automatically more useful to the village. Each skin could not only be traded for necessary goods, but it made us sole owners of a precious commodity. Technically, Saven should have taken all the credit, but Tarek’s selfish desire to belong outshined anyone else’s pride.
In any case, anything that raised our usefulness in Tarek’s eyes was a good thing.
✽ ✽ ✽
The first time I’d gone to the village, the Grakkir were curious to see who I was, an unfamiliar face living with the Shunned. After that first visit, no one seemed to care as much; I was just another slave brought to town to help carry food and supplies. However, when we entered the village for the first time with Saven wrapped around my neck, I drew more than just curious eyes. Saven was no longer a tiny grass snake, easily hidden in my shirt sleeve, but a very visible, living scarf around my neck. People stopped what they were doing and stared, mouths agape. They whispered to each other, and some called out to us. I couldn’t tell if they were angry, but Sarrenke remained calm.
“It appears you are the new village celebrity.” Her voice was amused, but her eyes were worried.
“They know a god when they see one, don’t they?” It was more of a statement than a question.
Sarrenke stopped and looked me in the eye. “A slave with a god at her side is not something we have ever seen before, but do not be frightened. If anyone were to try to harm you, they would have to face more than just the wrath of the Elder Council or Tarek.”
I stared at her, the murmur of Grakkir voices pressing over my ears like the voice of the Snake Goddess herself. I remembered the Goddess’ words, “She is like a sister to you now.” The protective way Sarrenke looked at me made me wonder if the Snake Goddess had predicted something I hadn’t anticipated, or if she sensed something in Sarrenke I hadn’t been able to see while I was busy hating her for being one of my captors.
&nbs
p; We stopped first at the blacksmith’s forge and traded the snake skins for nails, horseshoes, and other materials. Tarek’s prediction had been correct: the blacksmith was visibly in awe at the durability of the skins, and his eyes fluttered back and forth between the skin and Saven himself. I couldn’t tell which was more awe-inspiring.
Saven was entertained by all the attention, and took in every sight and smell with eagerness, constantly asking questions like, “Who is that? What are those? What does that do? Is that food?” I ignored the stares of Grakkir eyes and did my best to answer his questions.
“He is a Warrior. Those are necklaces. That’s a pair of scissors, and it’s used for cutting things in half. Yes, that’s food, but it’s already dead so you might not like it.”
“May I try it?” Saven asked.
We had reached the kind old woman who had sold us the stew-filled bread pockets the first time I’d visited the village. Today she was cooking strips of elk meat, marinated in some sort of spicy sauce.
“Saven would like to try some of the food,” I told Sarrenke quietly, somewhat embarrassed to be asking for anything in the Grakkir village. However, I found it difficult to say no to the little creature, as though he were my own child.
Sarrenke smiled at the snake with amusement while addressing me. “Why don’t you try asking her for some food yourself?”
I hesitated. Normally, my job as a slave was to be seen and not heard. I’d never interacted with anyone further than a simple “thank you” or a respectful nod of my head after being spoken to. The old cook was one of the nicest people we’d ever bought goods from, but I still had to be respectful of social expectations.
“Offer her a fishing net in return for some food,” Sarrenke encouraged.
I removed the basket from my back and set it on the ground, taking out the net. Technically, I had made the fishing net myself, but that didn’t really make it my property. If I hadn’t been a slave, I could do whatever I wanted to with the net, but that obviously wasn’t the case. I owned nothing because property does not own property.
I held the net up for the woman to look at. “A fishing net for some meat?” I asked in the Grakkir language.
The woman stepped around the counter and took the net in her hands, inspecting its durability and looking for holes. She looked at me with critical eyes. “You made this?” she asked.
I nodded.
Her eyes looked down at Saven, who watched the old woman with interest.
“A snake god?” she asked, her voice low with reverence.
I hesitated. “Yes. Saven is a snake god.”
The woman looked at Sarrenke for reassurance, and she nodded with a smile.
The old woman looked at me again, her eyes narrowed, as though she didn’t understand how this could be possible. “Who are you?” she asked.
I glanced at Sarrenke, then back at the woman. “I am Valieri Fiero.”
“Fiero,” she breathed. She looked down and grinned. She shook her head and spoke more quickly than I could understand, but Sarrenke chuckled and responded, so it must not have been anything bad.
The woman took the net from me. “Lozen,” she said, placing her hand on her chest.
“Lozen,” I repeated.
She nodded and smiled as she shuffled back around her counter and began scooping generous portions of meat onto wooden plates. She spoke quickly as she passed the plates to us, her eyes fixed on Saven. I looked to Sarrenke for translation.
“She says it is a strange world we are living in, but she is happy the young Snake God is interested in her food,” Sarrenke said.
I took a piece of meat with my fingers, blew on it to cool it off, and held it out for Saven to eat. Lozen watched Saven expectantly the way a cook does when they are eagerly awaiting the diner’s reaction.
“What do you think, Saven?” I asked.
His jaw worked to send the food down his throat. “It is not as good as a freshly killed animal, but I like that it is warm like a living animal. You humans eat very complicated-tasting food, but it is good.”
Fortunately, I didn’t know how to exactly translate what Saven had said. I left out the part about him preferring to eat a dead animal and told Lozen that he enjoyed the food very much.
I looked around then and noticed that other people were watching us. No doubt, they had watched how I traded my net for the food, rather than keep my mouth shut and let Sarrenke do all the work herself. A few people looked offended by my actions, but most were still struggling to wrap their heads around the idea of a slave having a god at her side.
“Maybe we should leave,” I suggested.
Sarrenke looked around. “Yes, I think you are right. We have disrupted the village enough for one day.” She thanked Lozen for the food, and when we tried to return the plates, she just shook her head and told us to keep them. I was glad at least one person in the village wasn’t shocked by Saven’s attachment to me, but I couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing yet.
Chapter 11
Early one morning, Saven and I jolted awake to the sound of screaming coming from inside Tarek’s shoddy cabin. I ran from the tent to the house with Saven close on my heels and reached for the doorknob, fearing Tarek had gone mad and was hurting Sarrenke or Ria. Khero stood outside the house and stopped me with a low growl.
“If you think I’m going to let Tarek kill those girls, you are out of your damned mind, wolf!”
Khero narrowed his eyes and growled again. His eyes shot to the window, then back at me. I peered through the glass, holding my hands around my eyes to see into the dim interior. Sarrenke scurried from Tarek’s bedroom to the kitchen, grabbed several unlabeled jars, then raced back towards the bedroom.
I knocked on the glass. “What’s going on?”
Sarrenke held her finger up, signaling me to wait, then disappeared into the bedroom.
“Is something wrong?” Saven asked me.
“Yes. Maybe. I’m not sure.”
I waited impatiently for several minutes, pacing in front of the door while Khero watched me and the window simultaneously. Finally, Sarrenke stepped outside. She took a deep breath and exhaled heavily.
“What happened?” I blurted.
“The baby is coming,” Sarrenke told me. That’s when I noticed blood smeared on her apron.
“Is everything okay?”
She followed my eyes to the blood, then looked up at me and smiled with a dismissive wave. “I am sure it will be. Do not worry. Unfortunately for you, I must ask you to work on your own today. At least until everything is settled.”
There was something unconvincing about her smile, but I didn’t want to pry. “Okay.”
Another scream of pain erupted from inside the house. “I have to go,” Sarrenke said. Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the house.
The screams continued throughout the morning and into the middle of the afternoon. I worked in the garden, washed clothing, organized the storage hut, practiced with the Ancient Fire, and even threw hay to Zani. By the time night fell, the screams became less frequent, as did sightings of Sarrenke and Tarek.
“Why does no one help her?” Saven asked me as I prepared dinner. It seemed unlikely anyone would come to eat, but I needed to do something to keep myself busy.
“Sarrenke and Tarek are with her. Sarrenke has delivered babies before, but something must be wrong with this one.” I couldn’t hide the tremble in my hands. I didn’t love Ria, but someone as innocent as her didn’t deserve to die; not this way. It wasn’t her fault her body was weak, it ran in her blood. And it wasn’t her fault the only man who would take her as a wife was Shunned. If she had lived anywhere else in the village, they could have sent other midwives and medicine to help her. However, custom dictated that she couldn’t be touched, just like the rest of us.
I turned towards Tarek’s room. Khero stood at attention outside the door, as he often did when he wasn’t glued to Tarek’s side. “Could you ask him?” I gla
nced at Saven, coiled up in a corner too small for a snake of his size. “Do you speak wolf?”
“We don’t speak the exact same language, but we animals have ways of communicating without words.”
Saven uncoiled himself and slithered across the room, his long tail extending behind him. He was like a lanky teenage boy, growing more quickly than either of us expected. Khero studied him but didn’t become defensive. I observed a series of head tilts and sniffs, with the occasional hushed hiss from Saven, and rumbled growls from Khero. A moment later, Saven turned himself around and returned to me.
“Khero has been looking into Tarek’s mind, reading his thoughts and sensing his emotions. He found anger and confusion, but also a deep fear the likes of which you wouldn’t believe he is capable of.”
“It doesn’t look good, does it?” I asked.
“No,” Saven replied bluntly. “Tarek feels the worst is to come but tries to hide it from Ria…and himself.” Saven’s mouth opened and closed as though he were trying to speak aloud. “Only humans try to do such foolish things, and I do not understand.”
“You understand fear, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“It sounds illogical, and it is, but humans sometimes try to deny their own feelings when they fear an outcome they don’t want.”
“Doesn’t that make it harder to accept to truth?”
I looked towards the door as another wail erupted behind the wall. “It does. But some things…some people…are too difficult to let go of.” Jenassa and my parents’ faces flashed through my mind.
Saven hissed slowly, as he often did when he was trying to understand humans. “There is blood in the air,” he observed.
A shiver crept up my spine. I pressed my lips together, certain I wouldn’t be able to eat dinner either. Even without smelling the blood, I had a feeling Ria wouldn’t last much longer.