The Serpent

by Sarah Fine

“Like, which one is which? I only know a few.”

  Minh groaned. “You don’t even know the cards?”

  “Well, Gabe did make a list, but I was more focused on . . .” At that point, she’d been more focused on asking the Forger for a quick way out. “Yeah, okay, could you just tell me now?”

  “I will,” Minh said. “Once.”

  “Can I take notes?”

  With a snort and a flip of a few cards, Minh made a steno pad and a pencil appear in front of her. “Cool,” Ernie said. “Which cards did you use for that?”

  “It’s all about combinations and will, which you have already learned to some extent. When you blew apart the rock shield, you could have used a number of combinations, but my guess is that you used . . .” He looked at her cards. “Honestly, I have no idea how you did it.”

  “He took the two cards I dealt,” she said, wincing. “One was a circle with a cross in the middle—”

  “That’s the Protect card.” He smiled. “Often referred to as the Shield card.”

  “The other was a slashing diagonal line.”

  “Rend,” he said. “You have to be careful with that one, but it’s good to have.”

  “And I don’t anymore.”

  “Then you have to be more creative. Just now, to get you that pencil and paper, I played the Ally card—I wanted this for you, not myself. Then I played the Tool and Wisdom cards.”

  “And this very specific thing appeared in front of me. I don’t get it. I mean, Shield-Rend, sure, that was pretty literal, right? Duncan was hiding behind a shield that I wanted to destroy. But when you played Ally-Tool-Wisdom, why didn’t a smartphone appear? Wouldn’t that be a tool to help me gather wisdom? Or how about—”

  “Because I willed it,” he said. “I knew what I wanted, and the deck understood my need and granted it. Do you wonder why the Forger wants Dealers who are willing to be tested, who are willing to sacrifice? No one else can do this job.”

  Survival of the fittest, just like the Forger had said. And she was fit. She’d tested herself. She would never give up. “That part I understand, and I think that’s what I did in the clearing.”

  “But it also takes imagination to go beyond the literal or obvious uses for the cards, and that comes with practice and focus, and some trial and error. Now, for your cards.” He tapped the one in the top right corner. “You have the Haven, and you should create that for yourself, if you haven’t already.” He gestured around him at the simple, clean hut. “This is mine. I chose one that reminded me of my childhood home, but other Dealers create theirs in places of luxury, places that do anything but remind them where they came from. It all depends on where you find peace and joy.”

  “I could totally use some of that right now,” Ernie muttered.

  “The haven is a place that restores and recharges you. It’s essential to a Dealer’s power.” Minh drew out his card, and the symbol was nothing more than a crooked-looking square, just like the card in the top row she’d laid out. But while hers showed only a muddy blankness beneath the square, beneath the symbol in Minh’s card lay an image of the hut in which they were sitting. “You can create your haven with Realm cards . . .” He looked over what she had. “Except that Duncan has Land, Air, and Sea, and all you have is Dreams.”

  She looked down at the card he’d indicated, which was in the second row. The symbol looked like an upside-down check mark, and like the others, beneath it was nothing but a muddy blur. “Not sure that looks very restful or useful, to be honest.” She was pretty sure that when she actually did fall asleep, all that would greet her was nightmares.

  “For now, that is the only place you can create a haven. Especially since you don’t have the Transport or Escape cards. Dreams are a tricky realm, though.” Minh was frowning. He looked worried. Then he pointed to the second card in the top row, one whose symbol just looked like a B made with two sideways triangles, similar to Healing, but without the extra diagonal line jutting out the other side. “You do have Birth,” Minh said, “and that will help.”

  “Please tell me it doesn’t actually involve—”

  “It means you can create.”

  “Oh, good. Children are just not in the picture for several more years.”

  Minh gave her a TMI sort of look before pointing out the Translate and Nourishment cards. Then he pointed to the third card in the top row, with a symbol that looked like a triangle with the bottom line erased. “You have the Strength card, which you’ll need to use on yourself, given how wretched you’re looking. It might help keep you going. And you have Aid, which means you might get or give help.”

  “I wish I’d thought to use those earlier,” Ernie said with a sad chuckle.

  Minh ignored her. “And here’s Pleasure, which could at least block the effects of Pain, if he plays it or someone else does. Also, Mercy, though right now I’m not sure that one should see much play. You could, though, use it to shield people. It might not be the most powerful play, but it could be effective with the right—”

  “Will? Imagination?”

  “Both. And Augments, of which you only have one.” He looked over the rest of the cards. “Are you writing this down?”

  Ernie was. Her chicken scratch covered nearly half the page. She’d copied all the symbols and was filling in the descriptions. “Don’t stop now, dude. We’re burning daylight.”

  He looked pleased. “You have Tool and Case. Case can be good if you don’t have Conceal . . . which you don’t. You can hide things in there, just not yourself.”

  “Even things being tracked by the Revelation card?”

  Minh regarded her for a beat. “Yes. Unless someone knew that and devised the right tool to open it.”

  “Good to know,” Ernie said casually.

  “And you have Capture,” he continued, tapping a card with a five-pointed star on its face. “Oh, you have several good Actions that, with the right will and combinations, can make up for some of the ones you’re missing. Deceive, Revelation, and Sacrifice.”

  “Not really eager for that last one.”

  Minh shook his finger at her. “Big mistake. Or total lack of creativity. You can think of it like an exchange, one thing for another, one advantage for another. Or, with enough strength, you can use it against your opponent. It’s a magnificent and very underplayed card, as most are scared to give things up in order to win something of great value. Even Dealers. Perhaps especially Dealers, as most of us have already sacrificed so much, in exchange for this.” He looked down at his arm and spoke to it in what Ernie assumed was Vietnamese, patting the tattoo. “I told him I meant no offense.”

  “What if I ask the deck to do something and the cards I play are wrong?”

  Minh shrugged. “Nothing. Or something wonderful. Or something terrible. The deck will use its own will, which is different from yours.”

  Ernie remembered Gabe describing how the Nourishment card—the one with a symbol that looked like a capital P, only with a triangle for the top part, a card she actually did have—didn’t always produce delicious food results without the proper focus. She pictured a big bowl full of dead mice and bugs appearing before him. For a moment, she smiled, thinking of his craggy face, his messy hair, his roguish charm, but then she remembered how he’d looked as he was taken from her, venom powering through his veins, blood smearing his brow, and her smile died. “That’s where my will comes in. If it’s strong enough, I’m more likely to get what I want, even if it’s a stretch for the deck?”

  “Always worth a try. Better to try and fail—”

  “Yup, that’s pretty much my training mantra. Go on.”

  “You have Ally, Friend-Lover, and Family. This is good because you can use these to carry your positive actions to the people those cards represent. In a battle, this will be helpful. Protect the ones you love.” His gaze was steady. “Both of them.”

  Ernie’s gaze darted away. She didn’t love Gabe. She’d only just met him. But she definitely felt something
for him, enough to be willing to walk into a battle to get him back. Enough for him to be on her mind right now. “I plan to. Keep going.”

  “As I said, you only have one Augment card, which is awful, but you can use it with Strength.”

  “And the Prolong one?” She remembered that one vaguely and pointed to it—one that just looked like a less-than sign. She felt gratified when Minh nodded.

  “Use them in combination when you need them.”

  “How long do they last?”

  “Depends on what other cards you’re playing, what other energy you and the diamondback are expending, and how many times you’ve played it recently. The decks are powerful but not infinitely so.” Minh leaned over, perusing her cards. “And your only Wild is the Chameleon.” He tapped a card showing just a triangle in its center. “Use that in combination with Deceive, and you might really have something.”

  “With enough will,” Ernie muttered.

  Minh poked her yet again. “You’ll need it. You have only a few cards, and you’ve got a lot of dealing to do.” He stood up. “I will leave you to do what must be done—then I will come back and try to take your cards.”

  “Whoa! Whoa. That’s really not—”

  “I believe I told you how your excuses will be met.”

  “Fine! Can I ask you a favor first?”

  Minh waited, his face unreadable.

  Ernie held her arms up. “Can you heal me before you go? I don’t have that card.” And though her cuts had stopped bleeding, there wasn’t a part of her that didn’t hurt.

  A tiny smile crossed Minh’s face. “Can you guess what I’m going to say?”

  “‘Yes, Ernie, I’d love to help you out’?”

  “Will.” He flipped two cards and disappeared.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Crap!” shouted Ernie. Groaning, she got to her feet and looked down at her cards, all their little symbols, all the murky nothing that lay beneath. For a moment she had to fight the temptation to stomp on the cards, to rip them up and toss the pieces into the dirt outside. She’d felt this kind of frustration before—often when she had tried and failed to surmount an obstacle during Spartan training. She remembered when she’d tried to get through the upright log leaps for the first time and ended up in the mud over and over again, all because she hadn’t been able to keep her balance.

  The difference between then and now was that two of her teammates had been there to pull her up and shove her toward the logs for another go. They’d shouted and chanted for her until she’d gotten past it. They hadn’t given up on her, and they hadn’t left her. Tears stung Ernie’s eyes as she thought about how alone she was now.

  She glanced down at her bare left forearm, then closed her eyes and breathed. Wasn’t the point of being a Dealer that you were never alone? Your deck was always there. The animal that embodied it was always with you. “Diamondback?”

  Silence. Once more, the fear that the diamondback might not come, even if she could, set Ernie’s heart pounding with worry.

  She cleared her throat. This was bullshit. “Diamondback, come here! We seriously need to talk.” She waited for a moment before shouting, “I mean it!”

  She gasped as her arm tingled. “Okay, it’s go time, darling. If you can make it here, do it now. It’s time to have a heart-to-heart.”

  She tried not to gape when the snake appeared on the cards in front of her. “Oh,” she said. “That was fast.”

  It regarded her, its tail up but still. She plopped down in front of it, cross-legged. It was close enough to bite her if it wanted. It was closer than it had been when it struck Gabe over and over again.

  Ernie shoved down a swell of fear. “Thanks for coming. I’m going to name you now.”

  She could have sworn there was a glint of interest in its lidless eyes, and realized she probably should have actually thought of a name before announcing her grand plan. Her mind spinning, she said, “And I’ve decided that your name will be . . .” She peered at the serpent and said the first word that came to her. “Legs?” She tensed. Will, she heard Minh whisper in her memory. “Legs! Your name shall henceforth be Legs!”

  The snake raised its head. She couldn’t tell whether the animal was offended or pleased.

  “It’s . . . um . . . it’s a noble name,” she said loudly, digging the hole deeper. “One that means ‘she who overcomes all obstacles.’”

  The snake slithered a few inches closer. Because it wasn’t rattling, Ernie decided this was a good thing. “Okay, Legs, I have some work to do, and I’m gonna need your help.” Ernie gestured at her cards. “Would you like to be on my arm or at my side?”

  For a moment, the snake didn’t move. Ernie held out her arm, fist clenched. If she didn’t get this right, there wouldn’t be any more chances. Minh had not been kidding around. “Come aboard, if you want,” she said gently, remembering how tender Gabe had always been with Caera, how Minh had apologized to Bao when he thought the pig might take offense at something he’d said. “I’d love for you to join me.”

  Her heart was hammering, but it was equal parts anxiety and eagerness. If the snake had come here on Duncan’s command to kill her, it would have done it by now, but instead it was inching toward her, its eyes on hers, its tongue darting in and out, a blur. When its smooth, cool skin first touched hers, she gritted her teeth but did not move. It wound itself around her arm, sliding its body up to her elbow—and never taking its eyes off hers. She smiled at it. “You have beautiful scales,” she said truthfully. They glinted in the low lantern light, iridescent amber and emerald.

  Maybe the snake was gratified by the compliment, or maybe it was satisfied that she wasn’t going to scream and run. It shimmered before her eyes, its edges losing their definition, its colors and patterns swirling. Her arm burned, sharp and hot, enough to bring sweat to her upper lip, but the sensation faded quickly. And when it did, the diamondback was there. Right there, a huge tattoo on her inner forearm. A pretty sweet-looking one, actually. Her body felt tingly, like she’d had a glass of champagne or something. Relaxed. Like all was well.

  “That was awesome, Legs.” Ernie surveyed her cards. “Now let’s get to work.”

  Minh had said that the dream realm was tricky, but it was the only place she could go to build a haven, unless she wanted a hut right here next to his, in the Vietnamese jungle or wherever they were. But even if she could build something here, she wouldn’t be able to get back without the Transport card, which Duncan had. So Dreams it was. She picked up the card. “Do I have to actually be asleep?” she wondered aloud before deciding that she had no time for a nap. She picked up all the cards, then plucked the Birth card from the thin deck, along with the Haven card.

  Then she imagined. She needed a safe place. A peaceful place. She wanted to be back in the Blue Ridge Mountains, back home. She held the three cards pressed together, and peered at the Dreams card, grinning when the image under its symbol began to swirl and spark. Her arm tingled, and her cards glowed.

  She felt a fragrant breeze gust through her hair, and smelled sweet pinesap and winter daphne, the first buds of spring. Sunlight warmed her closed eyelids, and when she opened her eyes, she was in the woods, at the center of a clearing with a lake shimmering in the distance. In front of her was a tent.

  It looked very familiar. She moved closer, feeling shaky and blurred. Unstable. Like one breath could make all of this dissolve. Still clutching her cards, she eyed the tent. It was blue and gray, and there was duct tape patching a tear on one of its sides.

  This was her father’s tent. He’d taken her camping a few times, just the two of them, because her mom basically hated the outdoors. But her dad had loved to hike and sleep under the stars, and they’d once spent an entire weekend huddled in that tent, playing cards while it poured outside. There had been a leak, a tear in the fabric from when the thing got snagged on a nail out in the carport, and he’d patched it with duct tape.

  This was definitely that tent. “And
I guess it’s my haven,” she said, her voice trembling. “God, it just figures.” Clutching her cards tightly, she squatted by the tent and yanked open its zipper. Of course, it stuck, just like it used to, and needed to be babied until it reached the top. The flap opened with a breeze, revealing a sleeping bag, a pillow with a My Little Pony pillowcase, a flashlight, and a big bag of Goldfish crackers.

  “I didn’t play the Nourishment card,” she grumbled as she climbed inside. “But I guess that makes sense, seeing as I haven’t considered those nourishment for at least a decade.” She looked at the bag. Looked at it again. Realized she was starving and ripped the bag open. She moaned at the first salty, cheesy, crunchy mouthful. “Damn you,” she said, not sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. These had been her favorite. Her mother would never let her have them, but her dad would always make sure he had a stash, and during camping trips he’d let her eat them with wanton abandon.

  Abandon.

  She was both laughing and crying now, sitting in this tent of her childhood, somewhere in her dreams, eating crackers that might or might not be real.

  Dreams are a tricky realm, Minh whispered.

  No kidding, she thought. This was supposed to be a freaking haven! And apparently the place was booby-trapped with all her childhood baggage. She looked down at her arm. “Is this your doing, Legs? I’m not sure I appreciate it.” Hastily, lest she offend her new friend, Ernie added, “But thanks.”

  And, really, Ernie had no one but herself to blame if her vision hadn’t been specific. Minh had said the deck would fill in the gaps, so to speak. Gabe had said the same. She sniffled and swallowed a final handful of Goldfish, then set the bag, which had magically refilled itself, aside.

  She had a haven, one that was all hers, and though it didn’t feel like a place of rest, maybe she needed to just make peace with it, because it was all she had, and there were other things she needed to do.

  It had occurred to her as Duncan ripped those cards from her in the clearing that if he had been able to focus entirely on her, he could have ended things right there. And, most likely, he would have ended up with her trump card. She slid the blank card the Forger had given her from her pocket. It had power, for sure. He wouldn’t have given her a dud, right? She’d used one of the Marks, and even though he clearly hadn’t wanted to, he’d had to grant her a no-strings-attached favor. But she had to play it at the right time, or lord only knew what would happen—that seemed like just the kind of dilemma and potential chaos the Forger might create. She had to have the nerve and smarts to play the card at the perfect moment—and the strength to keep it until that moment arrived. She drew the Case card. The symbol looked like an H with two horizontal lines instead of one. Then she drew the Strength card with its incomplete triangle. She hesitated, wondering how limited she’d be if she played this now instead of saving it for later, when she might really need it for herself. But this felt right—she needed a strong case to protect her trump card. She clutched the two cards in her left hand, her thumb on the Case symbol, and resisted the urge to shout, Form of . . . a lockbox!