Song of the Serpent

by Hugh Matthews

  The thief struggled and shoved, his hands turning to ice as he gripped the chill gold supports, to press the globe back toward where Chirk waited at the altar. He had a glimpse of Thang-Sha's body, vibrating in the leather sheath that held it, a hole shaped like a flower with a coiled stem in his brow, dark smoke boiling out from the braincase.

  "Here!" called Chirk, one boneless-seeming finger pointing to the altar while his other arm thrust the remains of the wizard to the floor. Thang-Sha fell soundlessly to the polished surface and broke into fragments of fuming black ash that spilled from both ends of the leather cylinder that had confined him. The talisman bounced free of the charred dust that had been his skull, its gold thread incongruously still gleaming.

  "Here!" Chirk said again, and added a string of sibilants while performing a complexity of motion involving head, upper limbs, and tail.

  Suddenly, Krunzle found the struggle against the orb's tombward pressure easing. He lifted the globe high and placed it, still on its gold tripod, in the center of the altar.

  Raimeau and Gyllana had risen to their feet. Chirk, hands busy with golden vessels taken from shelves beneath the altar, said to Krunzle, "Get them over here, away from the tomb."

  The thief beckoned the two toward where he stood, waving them away from the line between the orb and the sarcophagus. The snake-being, meanwhile, reached down and retrieved the talisman from the wizard's ashes, placed it into a shallow bowl of gold atop the altar, and applied a golden pestle to it. Though Chirk's supple limbs clearly had little strength in them, the talisman fell apart as if it were of no more solidity than the stuff that used to be Thang-Sha, rapidly becoming a gray powder.

  Now the snake-being lifted a stoppered gold beaker from the shelves beneath the altar, removed its plug, and poured its contents into the talisman's dust. Krunzle saw nothing come from the container, but when Chirk stirred the gray stuff, it now behaved as a slurry. Throughout the work, Chirk kept up a monotonous chanting, sounds almost too soft for the thief to hear, and in a hiss-and-shush language he could not decipher.

  Krunzle could tell, by the motion of the stirring pestle, that the mixture in the bowl had thickened. Chirk set down the pestle and sought among the altar's contents for another implement, coming up with a long-handled, shallow ladle. It elevated this in both hands and began another chant.

  A sharp crack! spun the thief around. He had been aware of a continuous crackling from the direction of the tomb. Now he saw that where the diamond had been clouded, a long, deep, and jagged crack had appeared in the floor. It widened even as he looked, and something dark stirred in its depths.

  Chirk hissed a string of syllables. The snake-being dipped the ladle into the shallow bowl and scooped up some of the gray goo. Carefully, chanting again, it dripped the stuff onto the top of the orb. As it touched the matte black surface the slurry seemed to congeal, dripping more and more slowly down and around the sides of the globe. Chirk ladled out more, then shaped the stuff into an even coating, until finally all that was left uncovered was the portion of the globe that nestled in the supporting tripod.

  Now came another sound like breaking bones. Krunzle saw that the first crack in the sarcophagus's roof had been joined and intersected by another. They both widened. A segment of the broken diamond flooring heaved up. Something black, something that resembled an unholy hybrid of a flower's petal and a snake's head, was moving in the expanding gap.

  "Quick!" said Chirk, indicating the now gray-coated orb. "It is breaking free! Turn the orb so I can do the remainder!"

  Krunzle recoiled. "You said only by the supports!"

  "It is safe now. But the rite must be completed before—"

  The floor heaved now, and the thing that had been visible in the crack reared itself knee-high into the chamber. More of it was visible just below.

  "Hurry!" said Chirk, indicating the gray orb on the altar.

  But the thief hesitated, and the moment was long enough for the floor to split beneath him with a groan and a crack like a glacier calving. The diamond slid out from under him and he fell to one knee, with one foot dangling into the crevice. An acid stench rose about him, scouring out the inner passages of his skull. He fought to breathe.

  Raimeau moved. The gray-haired man was suddenly at Krunzle's side. He stooped and seized the thief's collar, and with one great heave of his slim body, hoisted him out of the crack and flung him bodily toward the chamber wall. His motion brought him around to face the altar, and without hesitation, as if he had rehearsed it all in his mind, he reached and scooped up the covered globe in both hands and held it so that its uncoated base was toward the snake-being.

  With deliberate speed, Chirk upended the ladle and poured the last of the gray slurry over the exposed black. Krunzle, watching from where he had landed, heard a hiss and saw the thin man abruptly stiffen. The thing from the tomb had risen higher, and its lily-like head had reared back, then snapped forward. Now a white smoke erupted from Raimeau's back, which was out of the thief's line of sight. He saw the former mine slave grimace and grit his teeth as he must have when the lash came down in the iron mines.

  But, resolute, Raimeau held the globe as best he could in shaking arms, until whatever Chirk had set out to do was accomplished. Then the snake-being reached and took the coated object, and the thin man fell forward and crawled away from the cracked tomb, his jaw clenched against pain. Lines of smoking heat crisscrossed the cloth across Raimeau's back, and Krunzle leapt forward to strip the tunic from him. It stank of burning cloth and flesh, overlaid by an acrid reek of acid that brought a surge of bile back into the thief's throat. Quickly, he used the bunched cloth to wipe away the stuff that was still eating into Raimeau's scarred back.

  The lily-head was now forcing its bulk out of the broken tomb. It reared almost to chest height now, but Krunzle suspected that he was seeing only the neck and head of the creature. A thicker, heavier mass was visible through the cracked floor. Its strange split head went back then darted forward, shooting a jet of colorless acid at Chirk. But the snake-being held the coated globe so as to intercept its spew, which dripped harmlessly to the broken floor.

  The lily-head reared back again, but Chirk had already lifted the dripping globe high. With an unintelligible shout, the snake-being flung the coated orb into the center of the spread petals, into the maw of the creature from the tomb. The fleshy, petal-like palps closed reflexively around the missile, and as they did so, Chirk turned to the three humans and said, "Get down!"

  Krunzle dropped to the floor, pulling Raimeau down beside him—or, if the truth must be told, between him and the thing risen from the tomb. He saw Chirk take a cylinder of gold from beneath the altar and rub it swiftly, softly muttering all the while. A line of sinuous characters entwined about the rod glowed the same color as the blue of the chamber, and a sound like a swarm of bees came suddenly from everywhere.

  The petals were peeling back from the gray-coated orb, and the lily-head's sinewy body was rearing up as if to spit the globe back at the snake-being. But Chirk held aloft the golden rod then brought it down like a whip to point directly at the lily-head. A stream of coruscating white light, thick as a man's forearm, sprang from the end of the rod and struck against the orb in the lily-head's maw. For a second, then another, the light spattered, sparking, against the gray coating. Then the hardened shell split apart, spraying gray shards in all directions, and the matte black surface of the object beneath was exposed once more to view.

  And to the touch of the creature rising from the tomb. The same lightless energy that had passed as a spark from Brond's body to the orb now blossomed around the flower-shaped head, forming a thick, roiling cloud of non-light. The snakelike body shuddered and convulsed, then the cloud rolled down the creature's body—and where it had been, nothing remained. The dense vapor followed the line of the creature's flesh down through the cracks in the roof of the sarcophagus, leaving behind only a stench.

  Krunzle rose to his feet. Beside him, Raimeau
and Gyllana did likewise. Chirk was standing over the broken floor looking down into the tomb beneath. The thief came to stand beside him, saw only a swirling mess of gray ash through the crack. "Is it finished?" he said.

  The snake-being turned its head to look down on him. "Until the next time some addle-pated nibblewit thinks he can use the power that is confined here." Chirk shook its head in a gesture whose fluid grace did not disguise its weariness. "I grow tired of doing this."

  Raimeau, despite his obvious pain, sought answers. "What are you?" he said to Chirk. "What has happened here?"

  The snake-being shrugged its almost nonexistent shoulders. "Nothing I can explain to you in this clumsy speech. Yet if I spoke to you in my people's way, you would hear my voice thundering in your head, and it would almost certainly drive you mad. So the short answer to your question is: nothing you need to know. Say that you fell into another's drama. And be thankful you are not exiting it as Brond did."

  "But it will happen again?" said Raimeau.

  "It will take a thousand years or more for—" Chirk interrupted itself, then went on. "I won't speak its name." It gestured toward the cracked floor, which was now reconstituting itself. "Its force of will will eventually reconstitute itself. Then it will reach out once more for those whose venality makes them vulnerable. One of them will find a way to the tomb and, as has happened before, some hubristic fool like Thang-Sha may try to make use of him." It hissed a sigh. "And then I will have to come back from wherever I lie dreaming and stop it again."

  "Why you?" said Krunzle.

  "It is a long story, full of things you would not understand. Call it my fate, laid upon me by one more powerful even than I. And be glad that yours is no longer tied to it." Chirk's lipless mouth formed something like a smile. "You are free now."

  The snake-being turned from them and began gathering up the vessels and implements it had used in the process of reconfining the lily-head. It paused to recover a gold salver that had somehow found its way into Krunzle's shirt, giving the thief a pointed look. Then it closed up the altar and sealed the doors.

  "You had best be on your way," it said to the three humans. "The tomb knows it must heal itself, and has already begun. The whole mountain will be affected. The dwarves' tunnel will not likely endure. I will leave by other means."

  Apparently, Chirk's kind were not given to long, sentimental goodbyes, Krunzle thought. But, then, neither was he. He took note of Chirk's warning and rapidly recovered his sword and oil lamp, buckled on the former and relit the latter, and hurried out through the crevice to the tunnel, then followed it back the way he had come. He was aware of tremors in the rock behind and around him as he ran through the darkness, leaping over orc carcasses as he came to them.

  He paused only in the lava tube whose semi-excavated walls were studded with uncut blue diamonds. He crossed it quickly via the trestle, whose shaking worried him. On the other side, a few stones the size of crab-apples stuck out from the wall. He was using the sword to pry them loose and had four good ones in his wallet when Raimeau and Gyllana caught up with him. The gray-haired man was weakened by his ordeal and the woman was helping him.

  "Leave it," said Raimeau. "It's not worth dying for." The sounds of cracking and falling rock were growing louder, and the trestle shook alarmingly.

  "No," said Gyllana to the thin man, "leave him. His greed will kill him, just like Berbackian's."

  The comparison offended Krunzle. He left off trying to pry loose the last gem and offered Raimeau a shoulder to lean on, showing the woman a face that invited her to revise her opinion. She did not accept the offer, but thanked him for helping the burned man who had saved his life.

  With the mountain groaning and shivering around them, and with rocks falling almost at their heels, they struggled up the long, dark tunnel until they reached the place where the dwarves' lighting resumed. Despite his protestations, they put Raimeau into the ore cart and pushed him up the gentle incline.

  It was evening when they finally emerged from the tunnel onto the apron where the dwarven guards had died, dust billowing from the refilling space behind them. They found the dead neatly lined up on one side of the open space, and Skanderbrog seated on the log the orcs had used to shatter the great doors. The troll was disappointed to learn that the Noble Head of the Regulate would not be joining him.

  "I thought it might be better if he went with me to get my sword," he said. "Do you think they will still honor his piece of paper?"

  Raimeau said, "I'm sorry to say that, without Brond, the Regulate will soon fall apart. They're probably already squabbling right now." He shrugged. "Dwarves. What can you do?"

  "If they don't make you a sword," said Gyllana, "I will have it done, in return for your escorting me home. The Kalistocrats of Kerse believe in rewarding good service."

  "Excellent," said Krunzle, "so if I complete my mission and return you to your father, he will be generous?"

  "He will pay you exactly the amount agreed," said the woman. "What was the negotiated fee?"

  The thief bit his inner lip. "Never mind," he said.

  Skanderbrog was sniffing at Raimeau's back. "Snake stuff," he said. "Wait here." He went down into the forest and they heard him rummaging in the undergrowth. Eventually, he returned, chewing something. He spat the contents of his mouth into his hands and said, "Bitterthorn leaves," then wadded the mush into a poultice that he applied to Raimeau's back. "Good for burns. My mother taught me."

  The pulpy mass seemed to soothe the thin man's pain. "I bless your mother," he said.

  "I was thinking ..." Skanderbrog began.

  "Unusual for a troll," Krunzle said.

  The troll flicked one finger at the thief's chest. The impact knocked the man back two paces.

  "I was saying," Skanderbrog went on, "that I've been thinking that living in the mountains, eating deer, and wrestling the occasional bear is a boring life, even for a troll king."

  "And?" said Krunzle.

  "And I thought I might team up with you two,"—he indicated the thief and the gray-haired man—"and see what lies down the road."

  Raimeau's expression said he found the idea worth considering, but Krunzle said, "My plans are to give up the wandering life and open a rogues' academy, perhaps in Augustana or Ostenso. A troll, even an unusual one, would be of no more use than a bib on a boar. I am sorry."

  Gyllana said, "How will you fund your academy?"

  "With these," said the thief, holding up his wallet. He noticed that it felt curiously light. When he opened it, he found that the four excellent blue diamonds he had prised from the lava tube were gone. He looked about his feet in the gathering darkness.

  "Our serpentine friend said the mountain would reconstitute itself," said Raimeau. "I suppose it has taken back what it considered its own."

  "No diamonds," said Gyllana, as if to herself.

  Krunzle had several things to say, none of them genteel. When he began to wind down, Raimeau said, "So, if you're finished, perhaps we should discuss Skanderbrog's kind offer. There must be all sorts of opportunities for two enterprising fellows and an exceptional troll."

  Krunzle saw that his plans must change. But he had always prided himself on his adaptability, and now rose to the occasion. "We could start," he said, hoisting a thumb in the Kersite woman's direction, "by holding her for ransom."

  About the Author

  Hugh Matthews is a pen name of the science-fantasy author Matthew Hughes. His web page is at archonate.com.

  Glossary

  All Pathfinder Tales novels are set in the rich and vibrant world of the Pathfinder campaign setting. Below are explanations of a number of key terms used in this book. For more information on the world of Golarion and the strange monsters, people, and deities that make it their home, see the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Core Rulebook, The Inner Sea World Guide, or any of the books in the Pathfinder Campaign Setting series, or visit paizo.com.

  Absalom: Largest city in the Inner-Sea region.
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  Andoran: Democratic nation south of Druma.

  Almas: Capital city of Andoran.

  Aspodell Mountains: Mountain range to the southwest of Druma.

  Augustana: Port city in Andoran known for its shipyards.

  Avistan: Northern continent of the Inner Sea region, and the one on which Druma is situated.

  Blackjacket: Slang term for a member of the Mercenary League.

  Darklands: Extensive series of subterranean caverns crisscrossing much of the Inner Sea region, known to be inhabited by monsters.

  Druma: Shortened name for the Kalistocracy of Druma, a nation built on the tenets of the Prophecies of Kalistrade, a pseudo-religion in which individuals view the accumulation of wealth as the highest possible goal.

  Dwarves: Short, stocky humanoids who excel at physical labor, mining, and craftsmanship. Stalwart enemies of the orcs and other evil subterranean monsters.

  Elves: Long-lived, beautiful humanoids who abandoned Golarion millennia ago and have only recently returned. Identifiable by their pointed ears, lithe bodies, and pupils so large their eyes appear to be one color.

  Falcon's Hollow: Logging town in northern Andoran.

  Five Kingdoms: The fabled original civilization of dwarves in the Five Kings Mountains, which have long since fallen apart as any cohesive political entity.

  Five Kings Mountains: Major mountain range in Avistan, populated primarily by dwarves.

  Fog Peaks: Uncivilized mountain range east of Druma.

  Garund: Southern continent of the Inner Sea region.

  Golarion: The planet on which the Inner Sea region is located.

  Great Goldpan River: One of two great rivers in Druma, which flows down from the Five Kings Mountains near Highhelm to join the Profit's Flow.

  Grimsburrow: Shortened name for the Regulate of Grimsburrow.

  Half-Orcs: Bred from humans and orcs, members of this race are known for their green-to-gray skin tone, brutish appearance, and short tempers. Highly marginalized by most civilized societies.