Silver Serpent

by Michael DeAngelo

  “How long have you been waiting here for someone to take the body?” the constable asked.

  For the first time, Gerard could see something there behind the man’s stoic gaze. Was it sadness? Fatigue? Worry?

  “I was pulling my little rowboat into the harbor, and that’s when I found her,” he said. “Are you another one of the guards?”

  Gerard shook his head. “I’m the constable. I’m the one investigating these deaths. You said another guard. Did some already stop by here?”

  The man nodded. “They wouldn’t help though. Said they were going to fetch the coroner, I think.”

  “That’s who I would have called for,” Gerard said as he stood once more. “Everyone else, please vacate the area. Go back to your homes so that we can conduct a proper investigation.” Something in his voice compelled those citizens to listen, and even the man who found the body prepared to depart, until he felt the constable’s firm grasp on his wrist. “I’d like to ask you some more questions, if you don’t mind.”

  That old fellow stiffened at the powerful voice but gave an assertive nod in response.

  “First of all, what’s your name?”

  “Antonio,” the man replied. “Antonio Gannon.”

  “And you said that you were on your way into the harbor on your rowboat?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What do you do, Antonio? Why you were out in your rowboat so early in the morning?”

  The old fellow shrugged. “Don’t do much of anything these days. I retired a few years back, and now I do odd things to pass the time. I’m not a suspect, am I?”

  Arching an eyebrow, Gerard only looked to the stranger for a few more seconds before he turned his attention to the woman below. “What odd things were you doing this morning?”

  “Some days I get out before light so that I don’t have to wait for the ships to move out and about. I like to float out along the coast looking for strange rocks and things like that. Nothing as exciting as what happened this morning, I can assure you.”

  “And how did you happen upon this poor woman?”

  “Well, when I was rowing back in, I heard my boat thump up against something. It’s not altogether too uncommon. Sometimes the bigger ships lose a pail or a piece of flotsam drifts into the harbor from out at sea. At first, I didn’t think much of it. But the sound kept occurring—thudding against the bottom of my ship over and over again. When I looked back, I saw her hair. By the gods, I thought it was just seaweed at first.”

  “Do you recognize her at all?” Gerard wondered. “Have you seen her around the city before?”

  Antonio shook his head. “I don’t know that I’d recognize anyone beneath all that…” He let his words trail off, and for the first time since the constable’s arrival, he couldn’t bear to look at her. It was as if he had finally reconciled the fact that she was dead.

  “You said your boat thumped into her. So she was floating?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” the older fellow replied. “She was tied off to something a ways down. I didn’t dare to head down there, but I did jump in and cut the rope. I always carry a knife on me, just in case my boat gets caught in a net or I find some clams out a ways.”

  Gerard nodded, attempting to make sense of all the information he’d acquired. He wiped his wrist against his brow, displacing the perspiration there. “One last question,” he said.

  “Of course,” Antonio ventured.

  “You said you summoned for the coroner about a half an hour ago?”

  “No, it’s been longer than that, for certain. I rowed in around the time the sun was coming up. If I had come in any earlier, I probably wouldn’t have noticed the poor girl at all.”

  The constable sighed. “She can’t be out in the heat any longer. It’ll degrade whatever evidence we can find on her.” He sank to his knees again, scooping her up into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” the man asked.

  Gerard rose with a grunt. “If the coroner won’t come to us, I’ll just have to bring this latest victim to him. Thank you for your help, Mister Gannon. If I need anything else from you, I’ll come looking.” He didn’t wait to see if the fellow thought it strange to carry the corpse in his arms.

  Antonio furrowed his brow as he watched the investigator draw away from the harbor.

  *****

  The lad flipped through a book of illustrations at that library table, and his mentor didn’t seem perturbed by his choice. Sure, there were pictures, but they were of some historical value as well. Marin chortled as she considered which part was more important to the future king.

  Kelvin had been quiet for some time, lost in that book. His teacher had to crane her neck to see its contents with greater clarity. Someone had taken great care to display the old ships that once sailed the sky.

  “Do you think my sight will become great enough that I’ll be able to see the people on these ships?” the prince asked.

  Again, the Silver Serpent laughed. That time, though, there was a scoff thrown in for good measure. “It’s been a long time since airships have been used this far south, child. They were thrown to the wayside when last we saw dragons around Ippius.”

  “Do you think they still have them on the mainland?”

  “Which ones?” Marin asked.

  Kelvin shrugged. “Both.”

  “Well, the mainland is called Draconis, and it’s a big continent. I don’t see why it couldn’t have its fair share of secrets.”

  “Perhaps I can convince my parents a trip is in order.”

  Marin arched an eyebrow and grinned. “You think they’ll allow the prince of Argos to shirk his duties so he can go gallivanting in a foreign place, where any number of dangers might wait?”

  “See, you get it,” Kelvin said. “It’s a learning experience.”

  “I think we still have plenty of learning to be done here.”

  “Come now,” the prince went on. “There hasn’t been any trouble in Argos for some time now. And we’ve got a new ally to lean on when things become tiresome.”

  “We mustn’t allow ourselves to become complacent,” Marin warned. “When you’re king, you’ll be grateful for that lesson. I find it’s when things are most quiet that we have the most to worry about. And this friend of yours—this Watcher? I have yet to see him uphold the deal you made with him.”

  Kelvin smirked. “You know, a lot of people in Argos still believe the Silver Serpent is nothing more than a myth. But I can safely say neither he nor the Watcher is a mere fantasy.”

  His mentor shook her head. “Why don’t you get back to your book? I’m starting to miss the silence.”

  He chortled and thumbed through the book until he found a page he was interested in, but that silence didn’t last long.

  “I will say one thing of both of you: You’re dependable.”

  Marin turned in her chair to see the familiar, friendly face. Kelvin looked up from his book with a discerning glance.

  “More trouble?” he asked.

  “You’re teaching him well, Mistress Cortes,” Edmund said. “I suppose I rarely do come with any good news. Isn’t that right?”

  “And yet you always manage to seek me out,” she replied. “What is it you’ve come for today?”

  “I have need of our mutual friend again,” the advisor bade. “But I’ll need them in their traditional setting.”

  The plainclothes vigilante arched an eyebrow. “Trouble out to sea? You know I left that life behind me when Lasho—”

  “I know it has been some time,” Edmund went on. “But there are some things the Silver Serpent excels at that mere men would not understand. I would not suggest you venture back upon the Gilded Harpy. I know there are still too many wounds you carry on the deck of that vessel. Rest assured, it is still safely under my care should the day come when you are ready to take the wheel once more.

  “I am putting together an expedition of sorts to validate the claims of a man who was brought in
today,” he went on. “An entire ship went missing out in the north sea—an oiler called the Titan’s Quill. According to this fellow, a kraken rose from the depths and crushed the boat and the oil platform, and not a single survivor beyond this one lad made it home.”

  Though Kelvin leaned forward in eager bewilderment, Marin was already shaking her head. “When have you ever known the Silver Serpent to deal with sea monsters?”

  The advisor smiled. “Never. No, I’ve yet to see you take on a sea monster, but you do have a penchant for dealing with monsters, and you’ve had your fair share of encounters on the sea. But this incident in particular? We think it’s more than it seems.”

  “And why is that?”

  “The lad who survived was muttering something about a man in the dark waters. Now, we’ve been unable to rouse him since he’s returned, so we can’t verify it as anything more than a fever dream, but I’d be willing to wager one of my ships it’s more substantial than that.”

  “You think it has something to do with the aurora last month?”

  “I’m hoping you’d be able to tell me,” Edmund ventured. “It seems those touched by the Strain are coming out in full force over these past few weeks. The Silver Serpent has had considerable expertise in dealing with them over the decades.”

  Marin sighed and leaned back in her chair. “You said you’re putting together an expedition, right?”

  “That’s right. Three ships. And if we’re lucky, plenty of volunteers and the lad who made it out of the wreckage of the Titan’s Quill.”

  “You think he’d be eager to get back out there?”

  “Anybody will do something for the right price.”

  She narrowed her eyes as she nodded. “With that in mind, we should probably talk.”

  “Agreed. And maybe this is one adventure the Silver Serpent partakes in without her trusty sidekick.”

  “That’s probably for the best.” She ventured a glance back to her pupil, who wore a scowl upon his face. Suppressing a laugh, she rose from her seat and crossed the distance to walk beside her old friend. “Come on, then. We have much to talk about, and I suspect very little time.”

  As Edmund and Marin departed, Kelvin slammed the illustrated book shut and took his own leave of the library, though his path led in the opposite direction of the older pair. Before long, he was in his room, peering out the window into his city. The prince focused his eyes, and his sight landed upon the waving flag perched atop one of the high masts in the distant harbor. The red fox on the black background pointed him to his destination.

  *****

  Though he had carried her through the city without delay, he never bothered to wonder why his arms were not sore. When he rounded that next corner, he saw the coroner’s office before him.

  Stopping before the entrance, Gerard used his boot to knock on the door to that building. With nobody else around, there was no easy way for him to balance the latest victim and open the way forward.

  After some time, though, with Schaeffer not answering the door, the constable understood it would not be as simple as he believed. He hoisted the woman onto his shoulder and knocked again, that time with a balled fist.

  Once more, there was no answer. He called out to the coroner, but there was no reply. With a sigh escaping his lips, he stepped back and made his way around the perimeter of the building. The rear entrance of the office was where Schaeffer sometimes worked near. Perhaps he would hear the constable’s request from there.

  With the victim still propped on his shoulder, he circled around back and noticed the wagon there. If the meek fellow had gone off to pick up the new body, he would not have done so without the cart, Gerard reasoned.

  The penned horse stomped at the ground when the familiar face approached. Beyond that beast of burden, though, there was no one present in the area.

  “He has to be here,” the constable muttered. With the woman still atop his shoulder, he once again rapped on the door, louder that time than before. “Schaeffer?”

  Gerard waited a long while, but no one came to greet him. He didn’t hear a sound inside, either. Impatience mounting, he tried the knob, but it didn’t budge.

  For a moment, everything stopped. The man couldn’t feel a breath entering his body, nor could he feel the beating of his heart. A quiet, hissing growl erupted from deep within, and he looked at the door as though his eyes could burn holes in it.

  When that didn’t happen, however, he brought his burden to the decorative half wall that jutted out from the back corner of the office. With care, he balanced the woman atop that chest-high ledge. It was narrow enough, though, that her arms fell limp on either side of her, draping down that half wall. Gerard brought both of those arms up and crossed them over her chest, as though she was holding herself in a consoling embrace.

  Free of the woman, the constable returned to the door and slammed his fist against it even harder. Still, no one answered, and nobody in any of the surrounding buildings came to investigate, despite the volume of his knocking. He considered kicking down that door, then, but shook his head.

  There was no need to jump to violence of that magnitude. Not yet.

  While he tried to reconcile that thought, a familiar sounding voice crept into his mind.

  “Riptide,” it cooed. No longer was he fearful of that woman’s beckoning. Neither would he try to fight it as it reached out to him. “Riptide, I need you.”

  Gerard didn’t realize it, but his hand had turned that shade of clear blue it had when he recovered the third victim from the bay. The longer he focused on that beautiful voice, the farther that transparency shifted up his arm.

  None of that mattered to him. His focus remained entirely on the door to that building. Behind it, the woman who beckoned to him cried out, seducing him more and more. He took several steps way and swept his leg back, preparing himself like a bull before a charge.

  Before he could burst forward, though, that voice rang out again, closer than before.

  “Not there,” she cooed. “I’m over here.”

  Gerard arched an eyebrow and swept his gaze about, until it landed on the woman that had been pulled from the harbor that morning. As soon as his eyes landed upon that body, her arm fell from the cross that he had placed it in. That was all that was needed to upset the balance, and she teetered in that direction, inward toward the back area of the coroner’s office.

  Reflexes alone guided the constable’s hand, then. He reached out from afar, knowing the futility of his actions.

  But they were not so futile after all. From that clear arm, a torrent of water was cast out, and it fell just beneath the woman. A powerful burst of that water caught her as she dropped, keeping her from landing in the dirt there.

  Gerard stared forward, aware of his new ability and the tremendous beating in his heart. He maintained that current as he observed his body. Even as he drew his arm back, the water kept rushing forward, but it always cycled back, never running off beyond his control. When he looked at his transparent limb, he realized that the water that burst forth wasn’t separate from him—it was an extension of him, and the power that he now had.

  “My hero,” the voice cooed. “Oh, how I’ve longed for you.”

  He looked at that woman and noticed the familiar signs. She was gorgeous, and he hadn’t realized it because his thoughts were trapped within the coroner’s office with the previous body that had called to him. He let that voice linger in his mind and realized that it was similar but distinct. This wasn’t the same voice that had drawn him in before; it was a new paramour, vying for his affection.

  Without realizing it, he had moved the water in place so that that body—that beautiful woman—had been righted. She hovered above the ground, steadied by that water so that it appeared as though she were approaching him with seduction on her mind. Gerard knew, though, he was already winning in their game. He had already appealed to her, and there was nothing she could do to resist him.

  As they drew close t
ogether, he reached out, wrapping his arms around her back and neck, grasping her in a close embrace. The water that erupted from his body pushed and pulled her into position, until her arms draped around him as well. He could wait no longer, pressing his lips against hers, slithering his tongue into her mouth.

  His powers grew as his passion did, and he was able to manipulate that swirling vortex of liquid with his subconscious. In time, even her fingers seemed to move independently, and she reached up to run them through his short, blond hair.

  With a grunt and a growl, he pushed her back, but their dance was not yet done. He reached out to her and tore her blouse apart, the buttons flying this way and that.

  It was as if the city was theirs alone. Gerard and the mysterious woman gave into their passion, there behind the coroner’s office.

  *****

  The old advisor looked across the stretch of sea, his gaze settling upon another of his ships. That dark, silver-cloaked figure didn’t focus on him, though. Marin kept her sights ever forward, her auburn hair blowing behind her in the ocean breeze.

  Edmund couldn’t keep a smile from stretching his lips. He didn’t think it would be so easy to convince her to venture upon the water again. The fact she was topside was even more surprising. Still, the crew of that ship, the Naiad’s Gift, had been nothing short of professional, giving the legendary hero of Argos a wide berth. Edmund snickered as he considered that probably none of them believed the woman to be who she claimed; although it was he who tried to do the convincing, not Marin.

  “Lord Volpe,” he heard then, tugging him from his thoughts. Edmund looked over to the captain of the ship and noticed his stern look as he approached the forecastle deck.

  “What is it, Captain Gardner?”

  That strict appearance broke as the fellow let loose a chortle. “This far from the rest of the lads, you don’t have to be so formal.”

  “Very well,” Edmund said. “What is it, Captain Adam?”