The leaves rustled with movement. The terrifying rasp of a stirring snake surrounded me. The limb under my feet softened. I scrambled for a solid branch, and touched nothing but the snake’s dry coils. The necklace snake’s coloring blended with the jungle’s greenery so well that I couldn’t determine where the rest of it lay.
I closed my eyes and projected into the snake’s mind. It had looped part of its body between two branches, creating a flat net now closing around me. Pulling my switchblade from my pocket, I triggered the blade.
When the heavy coils of the snake dropped onto my shoulders, I knew I had mere seconds before the predator would wrap around my throat like a necklace and choke me to death. I sensed satisfaction from the snake as it moved to tighten its hold.
I stabbed my knife into the snake’s thick body. Would the Curare on the blade affect the creature? Mild pain from the thrust registered in the snake’s mind, but it considered the wound minor.
The snake contracted around me, trapping my legs and left arm. I realized the necklace snake held me aloft. If I cut through its coils, I would plummet to the ground.
Another loop brushed my face as the snake tried to encircle my neck. I pushed it away with my free arm. A coil slid up my back.
Deciding the odds of surviving a fall were better than dying by strangulation, I stabbed my blade in the nearest coil with the intention of sawing through it. Before I applied more pressure, the creature stopped.
Perhaps Curare had paralyzed the snake. I pulled the blade out and the snake resumed its tightening. The Curare hadn’t worked. But when I reinserted the knife, the creature paused. Odd. I must have found a vulnerable area. We were at an impasse.
Through my link with its mind, I sensed the snake’s hunger warring with its desire to live. I tried to control the predator’s will, but our minds were too incompatible. Even though I could feel its intentions, I couldn’t direct its movements.
I wanted to avoid killing the snake, but I could see no other way. Once dead, I should be able to cut my way back into the trees.
“Hello. Is someone in there?” a man’s voice asked.
My struggle with the snake had seized all my attention. Cursing myself for forgetting the man, I directed my mind into the tree canopy and encountered the well-protected thoughts of another magician. But Warper or Story Weaver, I couldn’t tell.
“Has the snake got your tongue?” He laughed at his own joke. “I know you’re there. I felt your power. If you don’t belong in the jungle, I’ll gladly let the snakes have you for dinner.”
“Snakes?” I asked. His speech patterns sounded familiar. Not Daviian. Not Sandseed. I hoped Zaltana.
“Your necklace snake has sent a call for help. You might kill this one and untangle yourself, but by then its kin will be here to finish the job.”
I scanned the jungle canopy and, sure enough, I felt five other snakes moving toward me.
“What if I do belong in the jungle?” I asked.
“Then I’ll help you. But you’d better make a strong case. Strange things have been happening lately.”
I thought fast. “I’m Yelena Liana Zaltana. Daughter of Esau and Perl and sister to Leif.”
“Common knowledge. You have to do better.”
Soul mate to Valek, the scourge of Sitia, I thought, but knew that wouldn’t help my case. I searched my mind for a bit of information only the Zaltanas knew. The problem was, since I had been raised in Ixia, I knew only a few things about my lost clan.
“I could send you on a wild-valmur chase, but wouldn’t it be easier if I gave you a piece of sap candy?” I held my breath, waiting.
Just when I was convinced I would have to cut my way out of the snake before its brothers arrived, a low drumbeat throbbed. More beats followed. The vibrations pulsed through the snake.
The snake relaxed. A gap appeared above my head and a green painted face smiled down at me.
He extended his hand, which was also camouflaged. “Grab on.”
I clasped his wrist. He pulled me from the snake’s net and onto a solid branch. Relief puddled in my knees and I had to sit down.
The man’s clothes matched the jungle’s colors and patterns. He placed a leather drum on the branch and played another song. The snake unraveled and disappeared into the jungle.
“That should hold them off for a while,” he said.
From his clothes and dyed-olive hair color, I knew the man had to be a Zaltana. I thanked him for helping me.
His answering nod reminded me of someone. “Who are you?” I asked.
“Your cousin, Chestnut. I was out on patrol when you were here the last time so I didn’t get a chance to meet you.”
After living in Ixia for fourteen years, I had finally returned to a home I hadn’t known existed. It had been such an emotional whirlwind, and I had met so many cousins, aunts and uncles it was unlikely I would have remembered him even if I had been introduced to him.
Seeing no sign of recognition on my face, he added, “I’m one of Nutty’s brothers.”
Nutty’s stories about her siblings had been humorous and I remembered a game I used to play with her against her brothers before my kidnapping.
“How did you control the snake?” I asked.
“I’m a snake charmer,” he said as if the title explained everything. But when I failed to respond, he said, “It’s part of my magic. The necklace snakes are very hard to spot. Not only do they blend in so well, but also they mask their life energy. Even if you’re able to sense the other jungle animals you probably wouldn’t feel the snakes. Not until it was too late.” He rubbed his hands together in appreciation. “They usually hunt alone, but if one gets into trouble it can call to the others with a low sound we can’t hear. My magic allows me to locate the snakes and hear their calls. And my drum is my way to talk to them. It doesn’t work on the other animals.” He shrugged. “But I keep the snakes away from our homestead.”
“You were out on patrol when you heard my snake?” Funny how I had become possessive of the creature that had tried to squash and eat me.
“Yes. Although, when I left this morning, I had hoped to find more than snakes.” He gave me an odd look. “I guess I just did. Why are you here, Yelena?”
“I’m following a group of people who had been living in the plateau,” I said. “They came through here. Has anyone seen them?” But what I really wanted to ask was had they attacked the clan? Were my mother and father okay?
“Seen? No. Strangers are in the jungle, but we can’t find them and…” He paused, probably considering what information he should divulge. “Perhaps it would be best for you to talk to our clan elders. Are you alone?”
“No. My brother and some Sandseeds are traveling with me.”
“In the trees?”
“On the ground.” I told Chestnut about the attack and how I had been acting as a scout for our group.
Chestnut accompanied me to the Zaltana homestead. It contained a vast network of living, sleeping and cooking areas connected by bridges and suspended above the ground. Hidden by the thick jungle vegetation, the homestead was hard to find, but once inside the complex, I continued to be amazed the tree canopy could camouflage such a collection of rooms.
Built of wood, the floors of the buildings were anchored to wide branches. Ivy grew on the outside of all the walls to hide their shape. Almost all of the furniture was constructed of wood, and rope hammocks provided comfortable places to sleep. Handcrafts made of jungle items like seeds and sticks decorated the various rooms, including animal sculptures created by colored pebbles glued together.
The main throughway of the homestead tended to be common areas of each of the families within the clan. The living and sleeping quarters branched off from the public rooms.
Besides being extensive, the homestead was also well defended. The Zaltana magicians kept a vigilant watch for any strangers.
After our arrival, Chestnut hurried to find the clan elders and I scanned the path back to
Moon Man. Once I was certain that the way was clear, I made contact with the Story Weaver’s mind.
Come, I told him. Come quickly.
We are on the way, he replied.
I raced to my parents’ suite. A few surprised glances and quizzical calls followed me as I dashed toward the Liana quarters, but I ignored them.
My mother, Perl, paced the living room. The air smelled like ginger and cinnamon, but her perfume distillery set up on the long table against the back wall appeared to be empty.
“Yelena!”
She flew into my arms. A few inches shorter than me, the slender woman clutched me as if to keep from falling.
“Mother. What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Esau,” she said, and cried.
I suppressed the urge to shake her as she sobbed in my arms. Instead, I waited for the flow of tears to subside before I pulled her away and looked into her light green eyes. “What about Father?”
“He’s missing.”
CHAPTER 8
I RESISTED THE URGE to use magic to calm my mother. Many horrible scenarios played in my mind before she settled enough to tell me the details. My father had been expected back from an expedition yesterday and had failed to return.
“There was a clan meeting,” Perl said between sobs. “A couple of scouts had gotten lost, and he went to find them.”
“Lost scouts?”
She gave me a watery smile. “Some of the newer ones will lose their way. Esau always finds them. No one knows the jungle as well as he does.”
“Maybe one of the scouts was hurt,” I said, hoping to calm her and to stop myself from imagining Esau being a victim of the Kirakawa ritual. “Why was he expected yesterday?”
“Another clan meeting. The jungle creatures have been restless and disturbed and we can’t pinpoint why. When the two scouts failed to return, the clan decided everyone should stay close to our homestead. Each night we gather in the common room to make sure everyone is safe. Esau was only supposed to be gone a few hours.” Tears tracked down her cheeks.
Her face reflected the hours of worry and fear. Her long hair had more gray than black. I couldn’t leave her alone, yet I needed more information.
“I have to talk with the clan elders,” I said. “You can come along only if you promise not to get too upset.”
She agreed, but uncertainty filled her eyes. Her hand went to her throat. Maybe taking her with me was a bad idea. Perhaps Nutty could stay with her?
Perl stiffened as if with a sudden realization. “Wait,” she said before bolting toward the lift.
As I watched her pull the ropes and ascend to the second floor of the apartment, my heart filled with dread. Esau had invented that lift, using vines from the jungle and a pulley system. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything happened to him.
Panic made me fidget, and just as I was about to call out to Perl to hurry, the lift moved. My mother had splashed water on her face and had tied her hair back. She also wore my fire amulet around her neck. I smiled.
“For strength,” she said, and she met my gaze. This time only stubborn resolve radiated from her. “Let’s go.”
I thought about the fire amulet as we made our way to the homestead’s meeting room. Winning an acrobatic contest during an Ixian fire festival, I had achieved a moment of pure joy in the midst of hell. Reyad—one of my captors, the first man I’d killed—had tried to keep me from participating, and I was severely punished for my disobedience, but I knew I would do it again. I now realized the stubborn streak from both my parents had kept me fighting despite Mogkan and Reyad s efforts to control me.
Our clan name might be Zaltana, but our family name was Liana, which meant vine in the old Illiais language. Those vines grew everywhere in the jungle, pulling down trees in their search for the sun. When cut and dried, the vines turned rock hard.
Looking at the firm set of my mother’s shoulders, I knew she had reached the point where she would no longer bend to her emotions, but do what was needed to help find her husband.
The common room was the largest area of the homestead. Big enough to hold the entire clan, the round area had a stone fire pit at its center. The black ashy remains of the fire drifted in the sunlight, streaming from the smoke hole in the room’s wooden ceiling. Benches made of branches and hardened vines ringed the pit. The scent of many perfumes lingered in the air and I remembered the first time I stood here.
The entire clan had filled the room then. Curious to see the lost child returned from—according to their viewpoint—the dead, they peered at me with a mixture of hope, joy and suspicion. My hopes for an uneventful reunion dissolved when my brother declared to all that I reeked of blood.
Chestnut interrupted my reminiscence by introducing me to the clan elders. “Oran Cinchona Zaltana and Violet Rambutan Zaltana.”
They bowed in the formal Sitian greeting. Their dark faces creased with worry. These two dealt with the day-to-day problems of the clan when our clan leader, Bavol, was at the Citadel. Missing scouts plus unexpected guests equaled big problems.
“Your friends have reached the palm ladder,” Violet said. “When they climb up, they will be escorted here.” A slight smile flickered across her face.
Relieved they had arrived safely, I projected my awareness to encourage Leif to hurry. When Leif opened his mind to me, his annoyance was clear.
You should have taken me with you to search for the Vermin, he said. Leif’s muscles ached from the day-long march through the jungle. The trails tended to get overgrown quite fast in the steamy warmth, and Leif had had to cut a path for the others with his machete.
We can fight about it later, I said. Right now I need you here.
I can’t leave Tauno.
Leif and Marrok had reached the tree canopy, but through Leif’s eyes I saw Tauno frozen about halfway up the rope ladder, clutching the rungs with a death grip.
I moved my awareness to Tauno. Although he couldn’t hear my words in his mind, I sent him calming emotions, reminding him how he had climbed down from rocks in the blackness of the cave. I chased his memory of that descent and realized why he hadn’t been frightened then.
Close your eyes, I instructed.
He did. Tauno relaxed his hold and climbed the ladder.
I pulled away and reconnected to Leif. Hurry.
By the time Leif and the others joined us, I felt my desire for action pushing out, threatening to explode. I updated the clan elders on what I knew, but the only information that Oran and Violet added was the direction that the lost scouts had been assigned. South and east, and Esau had gone east first to find them.
“It has to be the Daviians,” I said. “We have to rescue them before they can do any part of the Kirakawa ritual.”
“Let’s go.” Leif held his machete tightly, a fierce countenance on his square face.
“You do not know for sure if the Vermin have your father,” Moon Man said. “Or where they are. Or how many Warpers there are. Or how well defended they may be.” The words tumbled out in a rush. Moon Man’s eyebrows pinched together, reflecting his obvious discomfort with being surrounded by walls.
“All right, Mr. Logic. How do you propose we get this information?” I asked.
“Marrok and Tauno will search for trail signs and report back.”
“Where?” I asked.
“To the east.”
“And stumble into the same ambush as my father? They’ll be caught and killed,” I countered. “It’s too risky to send people out there. The jungle is the perfect setting for ambushes. Unless—” A sudden idea circled in my mind. I thought it over, looking for any holes. If the Daviians hid behind a null shield, no magic could pierce it, but mundane physical things like sound and light would.
“Unless,” Leif prompted.
“Unless we could get a bird’s-eye view,” I said.
“They probably have men stationed in the trees,” Marrok said. “Isn’t that how the scouts would have been captured?”
“Actually I was being literal. I could link with one of the birds in the jungle and see out through its eyes.”
“You will not see much during the daytime,” Moon Man said. “The Vermin will be well camouflaged. In the night, they will need a small fire and the moon to perform even the first level of the Kirakawa ritual.”
A cold wave of dread washed over me. “The moon rose last night.”
“Too soon. They need time to properly prepare themselves.”
“For someone who claims the old rituals have been lost, you certainly know a lot about them,” Marrok said. Accusation laced his voice.
“The specifics of the ritual have been forgotten, but some knowledge about them has been included in our teaching stories,” Moon Man replied, meeting Marrok’s stare. “It keeps us from making the same mistakes over and over and over again.”
A warning to Marrok or just cryptic Story Weaver advice, I couldn’t tell. Marrok rubbed his healed cheek. He tended to stroke the spot whenever he was upset or frightened. The wounds from Cahil’s beating went deeper than shattered bone fragments. Broken trust was harder to fix than bones. I wondered if Marrok would change his opinion about Moon Man if he knew the Sandseed had helped repair his injuries.
“Can a bird see at night?” Leif asked, bringing our attention back to the problem at hand.
“There’ll be light from the fire,” Marrok said.
“But what about guards in the trees or outside the firelight?” Tauno asked. “We need to know how many Vermin are there.”
I considered the difficulties and a solution flew into my mind. “Bats.”
Tauno hunched over. “Where?”
“I’ll link with the bats to find the Vermin. Their fire should attract insects the bats like to eat,” I said.
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