“Much better, actually,” she offered with a smile. “Every tenth step or so, I still feel a sudden jolt go up this leg, but it’s much better than three weeks ago. Every day it seems I’m that much closer to recovery.”
“That’s good,” he said. “The people need the Silver Serpent. It’s been peaceful lately, but with the Brotherhood skulking in the shadows, there’s no telling what could happen to Argos.”
“It has been a little quiet from them,” Marin admitted. “And I don’t think we can treat that as well as it sounds. The Brotherhood is up to something.”
“Don’t worry about what’s going on out in the world beyond these four walls. Just make sure you heal completely.”
“Yes, sir,” she teased. “Now, let’s make sure your trip wasn’t all for naught. What is it you’d like to study today?”
“You’re letting me choose?” Kelvin asked. “What have I done to deserve that?”
“Well, for starters, you brought all the material here. You could have sent a private carriage.”
He wore a bemused grin. “Well, I think we’re at—”
Both of them ceased speaking when a meager knock resounded on the door. Marin shuffled over to the entrance again and swung the way open.
She was surprised to see an old friend. Dressed in red and with a long, silvery beard, the fellow was hard to forget, though Kelvin had only spoken with that man a few times in passing. Edmund Volpe was old, but he still retained a great deal of vigor. As the leader of the King’s council, he needed to be alert whenever possible, and it seemed by the look on his face his passion paid off.
“Edmund?” Marin wondered. “What are you doing here?”
“Pardon me, my dear,” he returned. “But there is something you need to be made aware of.”
She arched her eyebrow. “What is it?”
“No doubt you’ve heard of the odd goings-on in Argos. People are charging through city walls, a woman’s screams are causing men to go mad or deaf or…” Edmund let his words trail off, and he looked to his companion again. “There’s something else that might be worthy of your attention. A body was found late last night, smashed to pieces. It sounds like it might be a job for the Sil—”
Marin stepped to the side and revealed the prince behind her, at the opposite side of the dining table.
“Ah, Prince Kelvin,” Edmund said. “I didn’t realize you were here today. How go your studies?”
The lad offered a warm smile. “Mistress Cortes is very accommodating on a great deal of occasions. I figured it was only fair I repay her for all her troubles.”
“A wise and kind decision,” he agreed. “In that case, though, I’ll be brief.” He looked at the woman and arched an eyebrow. “It seems what happened on the east end of town last night was not what many people would call normal. If a certain vigilante were to involve themselves in the investigation, perhaps we would get to the bottom of it a little faster.”
She nodded. “If only there was a way to find this vigilante and let them know. Perhaps when they are alone, they’ll come to you.”
Edmund couldn’t hide a wry grin behind his silver beard. “Oh, from what I hear, it would be a difficult task to embark on. You know they say the Silver Serpent has an ally now, don’t you? Not that this is the same one as all those years ago, mind you. My guess is those two are thick as thieves. Separating them might be a little difficult.
“Ah well. If either of you happen upon either of these two masked heroes—even if you’re just studying alone in this cottage—would you impart a message?” Edmund asked. “Just let the Silver Serpent know the investigation could be started at that lookout tower just before the eastern exit to our fair city. Not only was a body found there last night, but a frightening monster was said to be in the area as well. With all the things transpiring in Argos lately, we could use someone like our masked hero—or her noble sidekick.” The old man smiled after he said that, and he let his gaze linger on the prince for just a moment.
“If we somehow run into either of them, I’ll be sure to say something,” Marin asserted.
“Please, let me depart, so you might return to your studies.” Edmund offered a shallow bow and turned from the doorway. When he had moved far enough away, the woman closed the door.
“He knows, doesn’t he?” Kelvin asked. When Marin turned to see the prince, she noticed his furrowed brow. “He knows I’m that sidekick.”
She blew out a sigh as she drew a chair from the table. The woman sank into it, offering a relenting nod. “Lord Volpe has known for some time I am the Silver Serpent. But I was hoping no one would know you were my apprentice. If Edmund has noticed that, you can be sure others have as well.”
Kelvin shrugged. “If it’s only your allies who know my secret identity, nothing has changed between today and yesterday.” As his own words resonated in his mind, he latched onto them. “About what he said,” he reflected. “You had another ally in a mask at one point?”
Marin sat up straighter in her seat and looked out the corner of her eye, as if there was some secret place in her cottage that could help her explain away her past. “The Silver Serpent did,” she revealed. “Once, long ago, the Silver Serpent had an ally. Wet behind the ears, she was devoted to the cause. Helping people was all she wanted to do, and when she discovered who the Silver Serpent was, there was no keeping her from lending him a hand.”
“Him?” Kelvin echoed.
The woman smiled. “You didn’t think I was always the Silver Serpent, did you? Ever since Argos has had ships on the sea, there have been tales of the man in silver who sought out evil from the shadows and delivered criminals and villains to justice. I may be an excellent fencer—and a brilliant tutor, I might add—but I’m not immortal.”
“But the Silver Serpent has to be,” the prince understood.
She nodded again. “As the mask gets passed down from one person to another, the Silver Serpent becomes more than a person. They become a symbol. They become legend.”
“So who did you inherit the mask from?”
For a long while, everything in that cottage went quiet. She let her gaze sink to the table and draped her fingers over the ring she wore. “Husbands and wives aren’t meant to keep secrets from one another. It was only a matter of time before I discovered who Lasho really was.”
“Mister Cortes,” Kelvin surmised.
“He was as much an artist with his deception as he was with the sword,” she reflected. “His alibis were brilliant. He was out at sea often, taking mercenary contracts with the King’s navy—some of them clandestine. It wasn’t surprising if he would disappear for a few days here and there. It took a long time for me to realize it was only when he was gone that the Silver Serpent would appear.
“If we hadn’t adored each other as much as we did, perhaps the ruse could have gone on forever. But when your beloved pays so much attention to every nuance…” She wore a pained smile as she considered those events from all those years ago. “It didn’t take much to convince me once I put the pieces together. If anything, I felt foolish for not noticing earlier.
“Lasho thought he’d let me down by allowing me to discover the truth. But it only made us stronger together. And that became our mantra. Here I was, living with the Silver Serpent, wanting to do my part in the city I loved, while he was out there actually making Argos a better place. Through all my pestering and my prodding, I finally brought him to concede and bring me on as an ally. He trained me and pushed me to my limits, and before long, I was clad in silver as well.
“When he was lost to us, I realized just how much I had yet to learn. Lasho was the true hero among us, and it was painfully obvious. I had taken up the mantle of the Silver Serpent—there always needs to be one in Argos, as I said—but there was no way I could do it alone. I enlisted an ally for help. That is who Edmund Volpe is talking about.”
Kelvin arched an eyebrow. “Who was your sidekick before?”
Marin sighed and offered a wea
ry smile. “It’s true I need to accept assistance now as well. If there is trouble brewing again in our fair city, we need to investigate it. But the Silver Serpent is still injured. I need more time to fully recover, Kelvin. You’re always telling me not to push myself. Perhaps it’s time for me to concede to that point.”
“You want me to investigate this most recent death over at the tower?”
“Just this once, you’ll be alone,” she confirmed. “I need a few more days to rest, and then I’ll be back on my feet. But if Edmund’s words are more than just flippant rumors, we have something of interest in Argos. This winged, stone beast is either a monster or a result of that aurora the Brotherhood unleashed. I need you to get to the bottom of it.”
He stood up and nodded. “I’ll do it. I just need to return to the castle. I’ve been working on a blue ensemble that might help me blend in with the shadows more.”
The woman shook her head and rose from her seat. She took a few steps to the wall between rooms and bent low, prying up a floorboard. When she stood before him again, it was with an old outfit in hand. “Let’s get you back in green,” she said. “This color suits you.”
With a smile on his face, the prince accepted the garb.
“But let’s do without the silly names,” she jabbed.
*****
Shades of cerulean danced on those stone walls, and he felt calm as he focused on them. There was something odd about the way he moved, nearing that stone. He almost floated into position there, his eyes catching a hint of something besides the glimmer of the water. A word was etched into the wall, and he drew closer in order to see it.
“Riptide,” he said. That word emanated from him like an otherworldly whisper, as though it had come from someone else.
Concerned, Gerard spun about, finally realizing why his movements were so unfamiliar. He was submerged in water, the abyss reaching out below him. But it was the images of those before him that truly haunted him. Beautiful women floated there in the water with him, fixed to lengths of chain that descended into the darkness below. They stared at him with open eyes—a dozen of them, at least—judging him for his failures.
The constable looked about, realizing that he was surrounded by those corpses. He gasped in horror as they floated closer and felt his lungs fill up with water. Gerard cast his gaze up, looking for salvation on the water’s surface. He kicked with all his might, trying to reach that distant escape.
As he went, those bodies seemed to float up with him. Closer and closer they drew, until they were nearly upon him. Just as he was about to break through the water and draw in a deep breath, he felt a grasp on his leg, and he was tugged back down. Though he struggled against the grip, he saw that light of the open air pull farther and farther away.
He looked down, noticing that the congregation of those poor, drowned women wrenched him toward the depths. There was no hope of escaping them.
When he gave up and let the water overtake him, he felt their hands release him. It was too late, he knew. His lungs had already given up, and there was an almost euphoric release as he came to terms with his inevitable demise.
Those women, lifeless before, floated up beside him, caressing his body as they welcomed him into their embrace. One of them before him, her auburn mane floating about in the water, seemed to near him just as he felt warmth emanating from his skin. Her hair swept out of the way, then, and he saw the powerful gaze from those glossy eyes. The woman’s plump lips separated as she drew closer, and her hands drew up around his neck. Gerard couldn’t hope to stifle his excitement as she placed her mouth against his.
He woke up with a gasp that didn’t seem to send a breath into his lungs. As he struggled to regain his composure, the constable coughed, expelling a jet of water. He stared at that puddle that landed upon the floor beside his bed, his eyes gone wide and wild. Gerard couldn’t be sure he wasn’t dreaming still.
The constable’s body was wet with perspiration, and his heart thrummed at a hasty pace. The images of those women kept appearing every time he blinked his eyes.
When he was sure he was no longer caught up in slumber, he picked a washrag off the table in the adjacent room and rushed to the side of his bed. He wiped up that puddle of water, hoping that he was still just imagining it.
That rag was damp with whatever was in his throat though.
“I can’t do this,” he said.
The words that came out of his mouth were as surprising as the jet of water, and he teetered over to lean against the mattress. The investigation was wearing him down, he realized, and no amount of reassurance was making those deaths worth the position. With Helen being the second victim, it almost seemed as if the killer was hand selecting his victims with Gerard in mind.
Perhaps, he thought, if he removed himself from his position of power, things could return to normal in Argos. He nodded, convinced of the actions he needed to take.
As he drew up that washcloth, however, a whisper in the back of his mind had him off-balance again.
“Riptide,” he heard. In an instant, the memory of the wall in his dream flashed back into view as though he were there. He shook his head in disbelief and sprang to his feet.
“Whatever you are, get out of my head,” he growled.
Without wasting any more time, Gerard swept up his clothes and dressed himself in haste. He stomped toward the exit of his house, slamming the door shut behind him.
Just as before, though, he realized that his trek to the castle—to hand in his resignation—would be a mite more difficult than he anticipated. Just like when they found Helen all those days ago, another commotion caught his attention. That time, everyone gathered to the south of his house, where the island bay lapped on the golden shores of Argos.
He thought to just keep walking. “Just turn around and keep going,” he told himself. “Act like you never saw this.”
Gerard couldn’t bring himself to ignore what transpired so close to his home though. Though he wanted to be rid of whatever it was that was damaging his psyche so, he felt drawn to that water.
Everyone congregated just on the shore, looking toward the center of the bay. He tried to peer over the crowd, but he was too far from whatever it was they thought they saw.
“What’s going on out there?” he asked.
“It’s another body,” a man beside him said. “Or at least, that’s what everyone is saying. Nobody’s brave enough to get in the water to see.”
The constable swallowed away his apprehension, then. He proceeded forward, cutting a path through the crowd. Some of the folks grumbled at being displaced, but others noticed the look on that fellow’s face. It was one of determination, and he kept to his path, until his boots landed in the steady water at the end of the shore.
Those in attendance watched in silence as the man removed his boots and pulled off his shirt. There was not one person there who didn’t gasp or mumble or whisper when he trudged into the water.
Gerard heard every one of those comments behind him. Some called him crazy; some called him brave. He only knew that he felt compelled to continue on. He swam until his legs grew tired, and then he bobbed in the water, trying to find where the body people claimed to see was.
A few moments passed, and he was surprised to see an object appear just a few feet away before dipping beneath the water again. He drew nearer to it, despite his trepidation.
It floated up to the surface once more, and he was aware in an instant of what he was looking at. Another woman, her hair cascaded over her face, was before him.
Gerard drew in a sharp breath before he could sum up the courage to wrap his arm around her. The constable tugged her toward the shore before he realized he wasn’t gaining any momentum. In that somewhat clear water, it only took a small dive beneath the surface to realize why he couldn’t pull her to the shore and how she had floated to the center of the bay with such ease. A rope had been fastened to her legs, and it kept her upright, in the perfect pose to let her head em
erge from the bay.
The man surfaced again, his heart palpitating at the sight of the woman before him. Her hair had swept to one side, allowing him to see her face, and she sent a condemning glance his way, reminding him of his failures.
Against his better judgment, Gerard took a deep breath and dove beneath that dead woman. He grabbed the rope and held it taut, trying to unbind her legs. The killer was nothing if not proficient, though, and that knot held fast.
After a few moments, he made another attempt, but that time, he drew his knife from his belt. Before he expended that next breath, the strands snapped apart, and the woman floated to the top of bay, her body going horizontal for the first time since she had been dumped into that cold water.
Gerard hoisted her toward the shore, and some folks didn’t know whether to disperse, cheer, or look on in morbid curiosity. The constable dragged the poor victim far up from the golden sand there, until she was lying upon the stone street nearby. She looked a bit healthier than the previous two victims. For some reason, the water didn’t seem to damage her as bad as the other two.
He shook his head. None of that mattered. He took a few moments to be clear: the latest victim was not a woman he had interacted with before. Despite the terrible tragedy, he could not stifle a sigh of relief.
It was only then that he realized there was something still terribly wrong. Gerard could see through his hand, the whole thing changing to be the color of that water out in the bay—or maybe even clearer, like the north sea. He could see that woman’s pale skin beneath his limb, and he gasped, springing up from the ground.
None of the other folks there noticed what he did, but they were perturbed at his reaction. They jumped back as he cradled his arm and looked about, as if the answer to his delusions was there among the crowd. He pushed past them, then, running toward the adjacent street.
Silver Serpent Page 14