Dreamsnake

by Vonda N. McIntyre

  “Yes, mistress.”

  “Ras is an evil man. He’s hurt you in ways no one who wasn’t evil would ever hurt anyone. I promise you he’ll never hurt you again.”

  “What does it matter if it’s him or somebody else?”

  “Remember how surprised you were that someone tried to rob me?”

  “But that was a crazy. Ras isn’t a crazy.”

  “There are more crazies like that than people like Ras.”

  “That other one is like Ras. You had to be with him.”

  “No, I didn’t. I invited him to stay with me. There are things people can do for each other—”

  Melissa glanced up. Snake could not tell if her expression was curiosity or concern, her face was so stiff with the terrible scars of burning. For the first time Snake could see that the scars extended beneath the collar of the child’s shirt. Snake felt the blood drain from her face.

  “Mistress, what’s wrong?”

  “Tell me something, dear. How badly were you burned? Where are the scars?”

  Melissa’s right eye narrowed; that was all she could make of a frown. “My face.” She drew back and touched her collarbone, just to the left of her throat. “Here.” Her hand moved down her chest to the bottom of her rib cage, then to her side. “To here.”

  “No farther down?”

  “No. My arm was stiff for a long time.” She rotated her left shoulder: it was not as limber as it should have been. “I was lucky. If it was worse and I couldn’t ride, then I wouldn’t be worth keeping alive to anybody.”

  Snake released her breath slowly with great relief. She had seen people burned so badly they had no sex left at all, neither external organs nor capacity for pleasurable sensation. Snake thanked all the gods of all the people of the world for what Melissa had told her. Ras had hurt her, but the pain was because she was a child and he was a large and brutal adult, not because the fire had destroyed all other feeling except pain.

  “People can do things for each other that give them both pleasure,” Snake said. “That’s why Gabriel and I were together. I wanted him to touch me and he wanted me to touch him. But when someone touches another person without caring how they feel — against their wishes!” She stopped, for she could not understand anyone twisted enough to turn sexuality into assault. “Ras is an evil man,” she said again.

  “The other one didn’t hurt you?”

  “No. We were having fun.”

  “All right,” Melissa said reluctantly.

  “I can show you.”

  “No! Please don’t.”

  “Don’t worry,” Snake said. “Don’t worry. From now on nobody will do anything to you that you don’t want.”

  “Mistress Snake, you can’t stop him. I can’t stop him. You have to go away, and I have to stay here.”

  Anything would be better than staying here, Snake had thought. Anything. Even exile. Like the dream she had been searching for, the answers slipped up into Snake’s mind, and she laughed and cried at herself for not seeing them sooner.

  “Would you come with me, if you could?”

  “Come with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mistress Snake — !”

  “Healers adopt their children, did you know that? I didn’t realize it before, but I’ve been looking for someone for a long time.”

  “But you could have anybody.”

  “I want you, if you’ll have me as your parent.”

  Melissa huddled against her. “They’ll never let me go,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”

  Snake, stroked Melissa’s hair and stared out the window at the darkness and the scattered lights of wealthy, beautiful Mountainside. Some time later, just on the edge of sleep, Melissa whispered, “I’m scared.”

  Chapter 8

  Snake woke at the first rays of scarlet morning sun. Melissa was gone. She must have slipped out and returned to the stable, and Snake was afraid for her.

  Snake unfolded herself from the window seat and padded back to her room, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The tower was silent and cool. Her room was empty. Just as well that Gabriel had left, for though she was annoyed at him she did not want to dissipate her anger. It was not he who deserved it, and she had better uses for it. After washing she dressed, looking out over the valley. The eastern peaks still shadowed much of its floor. As she watched, the darkness crept back from the stable and its geometric white-fenced paddocks. Everything was still.

  Suddenly, a horse strode from shade to sunlight. Tremendously lengthened, its shadow sprang from its hooves and marched like a giant through the sparkling grass. It was the big piebald stallion, with Melissa perched on his back.

  The stallion broke into a canter and moved smoothly across the field. Snake wished she too were riding through the morning with the wind on her face; she could almost hear the hollow drumming of hooves on earth, smell the fragrance of new grass, see glistening dewdrops flung up by her passing.

  The stallion galloped across the field, mane and tail flying. Melissa hunched close over his withers. One of the high stone boundary walls loomed before them.

  Snake caught her breath, certain the stallion was out of Melissa’s control. His pace never slackened. Snake leaned forward as if she could reach out and stop them before the horse threw the child against the wall. She could see the tension in him, but Melissa sat still and calm. The horse steadied and sailed over the barrier, clean.

  A few paces later his canter slowed; he trotted a few steps and then walked, sedately, grandly, toward the stable, as if he, like Melissa, were in no hurry to return.

  If she had had any doubts about the truth of anything Melissa had told her, they were gone now. She had not doubted that Ras abused the child: Melissa’s distress and confusion were all too real. Snake had wondered if riding Gabriel’s horse had been an understandable fantasy, but it was equally real and it made Snake understand how difficult it might be to free her young friend. Melissa was valuable to Ras and he would not want to let her go. Snake was afraid to go straight to the mayor, with whom she had no rapport, and denounce Ras for the twisted thing he was. Who would believe her? In daylight she herself had trouble believing such a thing could ever happen, and Melissa was too frightened to accuse Ras directly. Snake did not blame her.

  Snake went to the other tower and knocked on the mayor’s door. As the noise echoed in the stone hallways she realized how early it was. But she did not really care; she was in no mood for conventional courtesy.

  Brian opened the door. “Yes, mistress?”

  “I’ve come to speak to the mayor about my payment.”

  He bowed her inside. “He’s awake. I’m sure he’ll see you.”

  Snake lifted one eyebrow at the implication that he might choose not to see her. But the servant had spoken the way a man does who worships another person beyond consideration for any other customs. Brian did not deserve her anger either.

  “He’s been wakeful all night,” Brian said, leading her toward the tower room. “The scab itches so badly — perhaps you could — ?”

  “If it isn’t infected it’s a matter for the chemist, not for me,” Snake said coldly.

  Brian glanced back at her. “But, mistress—”

  “I’ll speak to him alone, Brian. Will you please send for the stablemaster and for Melissa?”

  “Melissa?” It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. “Is that the red-haired child?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mistress, are you sure you wish her to come here?”

  “Please do as I ask.”

  He bowed slightly, his face again the mask of a perfect servant. Snake stepped past him into the mayor’s bedroom.

  The mayor lay contorted on his bed, sheets and blankets in a tangle around him and on the floor. The bandages and dressing sagged away from his leg and the clean brown scab. His expression one of pleasure and relief, he scratched the healing wound slowly.

  He saw Snake and tried to pull the bandages back up, smili
ng guiltily.

  “It does itch,” he said. “I suppose that means it’s getting well?”

  “Scratch all you want,” Snake said. “I’ll be two days gone by the time you reinfect it.”

  He snatched his hand away and pushed himself back up on his pillows. Awkwardly trying to straighten the bedclothes, he looked around, irritable again. “Where’s Brian?”

  “He’s doing a favor for me.”

  “I see.” Snake detected more annoyance in his tone, but the mayor let the subject drop. “Did you want to see me about something?”

  “My payment.”

  “Of course — I should have brought it up myself. I had no idea you were leaving us so soon, my dear.”

  Snake hated endearments from people toward whom she did not feel dear. Grum must have said the same words to her fifty times, a hundred times a day, and they had not grated the way this man’s did.

  “I know of no town that refuses Mountainside currency,” he said. “They know we never adulterate the metal or short-weigh the coins. However, we can pay you in precious stones if you prefer.”

  “I want neither,” Snake said. “I want Melissa.”

  “Melissa? A citizen? Healer, it took me twenty years to overcome Mountainside’s reputation as a place of bonding! We free bondservants, we don’t take them.”

  “Healers don’t keep bondservants. I should have said I want her freedom. She wants to leave with me, but your stablemaster Ras is — what do you call it? — her guardian.”

  The mayor stared at her. “Healer, I can’t ask a man to break up his family.”

  Snake forced herself not to react. She did not want to have to explain her disgust. When she did not reply, the mayor fidgeted, rubbed his leg, pulled his hand away from the bandage again.

  “This is very complicated. Are you sure you won’t choose something else?”

  “Are you refusing my request?”

  He recognized her tone as the veiled threat it was; he touched the call-bell and Brian reappeared.

  “Send a message to Ras. Ask him to come up as soon as he can. He’s to bring his child as well.”

  “The healer has sent for them already, sir.”

  “I see.” He gazed at Snake as Brian withdrew. “Suppose he refuses your demands?”

  “Anyone is free to refuse payment to a healer,” Snake said. “We carry weapons only for defense and we never make threats. But we do not go where we are not welcome.”

  “You mean you boycott any place that doesn’t please you.”

  Snake shrugged.

  “Ras is here, sir,” Brian said from the doorway.

  “Ask him to come in.”

  Snake tensed, forcing herself to control contempt and revulsion. The big man entered the room, ill at ease. His hair was damp and haphazardly slicked back. He bowed slightly to the mayor.

  Behind Ras, next to Brian, Melissa hung back. The old servant drew her into the room, but she did not look up.

  “It’s all right, child,” the mayor said. “You aren’t here for punishment.”

  “That’s hardly the way to reassure anyone!” Snake snapped.

  “Healer, please, sit down,” the mayor said gently. “Ras — ?” He nodded to two chairs.

  Ras seated himself, glancing at Snake with dislike. Brian urged Melissa forward until she was standing between Snake and Ras, but she kept her gaze fixed on the floor.

  “Ras is your guardian,” the mayor said. “Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Ras reached out, put one finger against Melissa’s shoulder, and shoved lightly but deliberately. “Show some respect when you speak to the mayor.”

  “Sir.” Melissa’s voice was soft and shaky.

  “Melissa,” Snake said, “he asked you up here to find out what it is you want to do.”

  Ras swung around. “What she wants to do? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Healer,” the mayor said again, his cautioning tone a little more emphatic, “please. Ras, I’m in considerable difficulty. And only you, my friend, can help me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The healer saved my life, you know, and now it’s time to pay her. It seems she and your child have taken a fancy to one another.”

  “So what is it you want me to do?”

  “I’d not ask you to make this sacrifice if not for the good of the town. And according to the healer it’s what your child wishes.”

  “What’s what she wishes?”

  “Your child—”

  “Melissa,” Snake said.

  “Her name isn’t Melissa,” Ras said shortly. “It isn’t that now and it never has been.”

  “Then you tell the mayor what you call her!”

  “What I call her is more honest than the airs she puts on. She gave herself that name.”

  “Then it’s all the more hers.”

  “Please,” the mayor said. “We’re talking about the child’s guardianship, not her name.”

  “Her guardianship? Is that what this is all about? You mean you want me to give her away?”

  “That’s a harsh way of putting it, but… accurate.”

  Ras glanced at Melissa, who had not moved, and then at Snake. Before he turned back to the mayor he concealed the quick flash of insight and triumph that Snake saw clearly.

  “Send her off with a stranger? I’ve been her guardian since she was three. Her parents were my friends. Where else could she go where she’d be happy and people wouldn’t stare at her?”

  “She isn’t happy here,” Snake said.

  “Stare at her? Why?”

  “Raise your head,” Ras said to Melissa. When she did not obey he prodded her again, and slowly she looked up.

  The mayor’s reaction was more controlled than Gabriel’s had been, but still he flinched. Melissa avoided his stare quickly, gazing stolidly at the floor again and letting her hair fall in front of her face.

  “She was burned in the stable fire, sir,” Ras said. “She nearly died. I took care of her.”

  The mayor turned toward Snake. “Healer, won’t you change your mind?”

  “Doesn’t it matter if she wants to come with me? Anywhere else that would be all there is to it.”

  “Do you want to go with her, child? Ras has been good to you, hasn’t he? Why do you want to leave us?”

  Her hands clenched tightly together behind her back, Melissa did not answer. Snake willed her to speak, but knew she would not; she was too frightened, and with good reason.

  “She’s just a child,” the mayor said. “She can’t make a decision like this. The responsibility has to be mine, just like the responsibility for guarding Mountainside’s children has been mine for twenty years.”

  “Then you must realize I can do more for her than either of you,” Snake said. “If she stays here she’ll spend her life hiding in a stable. Let her go with me and she won’t have to hide any more.”

  “She’ll always hide,” Ras said. “Poor little scar-face.”

  “You’ve made sure she’ll never forget that!”

  “He hasn’t necessarily done an unkindness there, healer,” the mayor said gently.

  “All you people see is beauty!” Snake cried, and knew they would not understand what she was saying.

  “She needs me,” Ras said. “Don’t you, girl? Who else would take care of you like I do? And now you want to leave?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why would she want to go? And why do you want her?”

  “That’s an excellent question, healer,” the mayor said. “Why do you want this child? People might be all too willing to say we’ve gone from selling our beautiful children to disposing of our disfigured ones.”

  “She can’t spend her whole life hiding,” Snake said. “She’s a talented child, she’s smart and she’s brave. I can do more for her than anyone can here. I can help her have a profession. I can help her be someone who won’t be judged on her scars.”

  “A healer?”r />
  “It’s possible, if that’s what she wants.”

  “What you’re saying is, you’d adopt her.”

  “Yes, of course. What else?”

  The mayor turned to Ras. “It would be quite a coup for Mountainside if one of our people became a healer.”

  “She wouldn’t be happy away from here,” Ras said.

  “Don’t you want to do what’s best for the child?” The mayor’s voice had softened, taking on a cajoling tone.

  “Is sending her away from her home what’s best? Would you send your—” Ras cut himself off, paling.

  The mayor lay back against his pillows. “No, I wouldn’t send my own child away. But if he chose to go, I’d let him.” He smiled at Ras sadly. “You and I have similar problems, my friend. Thank you for reminding me.” He put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling for long moments.

  “You can’t send her away,” Ras said. “It’s just the same as selling her as a bondservant.”

  “Ras, my friend,” the mayor said gently.

  “Don’t try to tell me any different. I know better and so will everyone else.”

  “But the benefits—”

  “Do you really believe anyone would offer this poor little thing the chance to be a healer? The idea’s crazy.”

  Melissa glanced quickly, surreptitiously, at Snake, her emotions as always masked, then lowered her gaze again.

  “I don’t like being called a liar,” Snake said.

  “Healer, Ras didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Let’s all be calm. We aren’t talking so much about reality as appearances. Appearances are very important and they’re what people believe. I have to take that into account. Don’t think it’s easy keeping this office. More than one young firebrand — and some who aren’t so young — would move me out of my home if I gave them a chance. No matter that I’ve been here twenty years. A charge of bonding—” He shook his head.

  Snake watched him talk himself back toward refusal, helpless to turn him toward acceptance. Ras had known exactly what arguments would affect him most, while Snake had assumed that she would be trusted, or at the very least be given her own way. But the possible healer’s interdict against Mountainside was a future problem, made even more serious by how rare healers’ visits to the town had become in recent years.