“Lord Volpe had him brought here, Your Highness,” one of the guards informed. “Considering his position, it seemed to make sense to keep him out of the regular prison.”
“I’d like to see him,” she said.
“My lady, are you sure that’s a good idea?” the other guard asked.
The first guard winced to hear that. “She’s not a lady; she’s the queen, you fool,” he protested. “We don’t ever question the queen, you hear?” He moved to the cell door, and Selene was quick to follow, reining back a smile as she went.
That grin was gone in an instant when she saw the man huddled in the corner of that cell. Gerard kept his gaze down even when the keys rattled in the guard’s hand. A loud clack resonated across the dungeon’s stone floors when the key was turned.
After Selene entered that small chamber, she pulled the cell door closed behind her. “Lock the door, and leave us. The constable and I have much to discuss.”
“You heard her, lad,” the more seasoned guard pressed. “Get down there. I’ll be right behind you.”
That time, when the lock fell back into place, Gerard looked up.
“Mister Purdell,” the queen spoke. After she drew near him, Selene found she could not look in his direction.
“My Queen,” he replied in a quiet voice. “I know why you’re here.”
“So it’s true. And you don’t deny it?”
Gerard braced against the dungeon wall at his back to climb to his feet. It took some time for him to arrive there, and his pain was apparent. Even though she still couldn’t meet his gaze, Selene noticed he was favoring his right leg.
“It’s true. I was responsible for the death of the Silver Serpent. There was just…something evil inside of me. I should have fought harder, but I wasn’t under control of my own actions at the time.”
“And are you now?”
He said nothing for some time, but when the queen found the strength to lift her eyes and stare at him, he offered a nod. “If I could do anything to make things right, I would. There were…there were other things I did, I think—things I’m remembering now that turn my stomach.”
“Our memories are an odd thing, aren’t they?” Selene mused. “I’ve been seeing a face, flashing in my mind, since early this morning when I was given some grim news. It was the face of a brave woman, who gave of herself when the world only seemed to take. She donned a hat and a silver uniform and plucked up her sword, setting out to keep the streets of Argos safe.
“Her husband died when she was much younger, you see. But they were in love—the kind so rare in this life that stories cannot capture the way it truly is. There was no better way, in her mind, to give life to her husband’s legacy than to take up his mantle.
“She was brilliant in a hundred ways and more,” Selene went on. “She sailed, understood the wilderness better than most hunters, and could read the stars better than many could read a map. She could fight—by the gods, she could fight. But it was what she did with all those talents that inspired so. As someone with her gifts, she was incredible to behold. But to share that talent with others—to teach? That was divine. It was like an angel had been sent to Argos.”
Gerard swallowed away the tension building in the back of his throat. For all that the queen said, she grew in volume and intensity. She drew closer to him, and he found himself crowding that corner of his cell.
“She taught many people, you see, in a variety of the things she excelled at. But there was only one young woman who she chose to relate her secrets to. She bore the depths of her soul, and the two began a friendship beyond any I’ve ever known.
“This young woman ended up following this legendary silver figure into the shadows, whenever there was trouble, a shadow in green. She guarded her from danger and learned the intricacies of being a hero in all the ways that mattered. And the Silver Serpent kept her alive, would have gladly traded her life if the gods called for it.
“But this woman…” Selene grew quiet once more. “Fate had other plans for her. You see, she found love in an unexpected place. Against all odds, she married a prince, and before long, he bore the crown. They had two children, and the queen’s place could no longer be at the woman’s side.
“A friendship as close as that does not unravel so easily, though. While one child was sent to learn how to be a warden, the other remained behind, tasked with one day taking up his father’s important task. There could be no better person to teach him, to share her extraordinary gifts, than Marin Cortes.”
The queen stepped close enough to Gerard that he could nearly taste her perfume on his tongue. His eyes grew wide as he considered everything she told him.
“So now you know my secret. You know I once fought alongside the great Silver Serpent, and you can likely understand who else wears green under the cover of darkness.
“And you can understand how dangerous it would be if information like this were to get out.”
The deposed constable arched his eyebrows as those words resonated in his mind. “What would you have me do?”
Selene reached down and slid her gown up her leg. Gerard knew better than to be excited by the prospect of his queen showing him her skin. All the air left his lungs when he saw the sheath resting beneath the garter on the woman’s leg.
“You said it yourself. You’ve done some terrible things. They’ll haunt you forever unless you find release. And there’s a good chance you’ll be in here for a long while unless you find yourself wrapped in a noose.” She plucked the dagger from that holster and drew closer to the man. Despite the fear pulsing through him, he held fast. A moment later, she flipped the blade over and handed it to the man. “This will be a mercy, I think you’ll find.”
Gerard looked at the weapon in his hand. There were no malicious thoughts flowing through him at that moment, nor disgust at what his queen offered him. He reminded himself that every time he closed his eyes, he saw the faces of those he had hurt or left damaged in some way. The whispers may have subsided, but those memories would haunt him forever.
A deep breath was all he needed before he plunged the dagger into his throat. His mouth filled with blood quicker than he expected, and it poured from his lips before he could summon up the strength to cough. His eyes widened as he understood how fast his energy was fading. Before it was gone, he tightened his fingers into a fist around the handle of that dagger and tore it out.
Selene screamed before the constable hit the ground, but his eyes were already fluttering as he drew toward that mercy she promised him. The sounds of those guards rushing back toward her echoed down the halls, their greaves tapping against the stone.
“He must have seen the outline of my knife beneath my dress,” Selene gasped while the guard fumbled with the keys. “I thought he would kill me with it.”
“No way she did that to him,” the younger of the two sentries muttered.
“Shut it, Jonathan! Get her to safety,” the veteran shouted once the door was open again.
Selene hurried down the corridor, back the way she came. Her hand shielded her face, for she couldn’t allow the young fellow to see she wasn’t as distraught as he believed.
*****
The door rattled as he fumbled with the handle. The lad wasn’t sure why he was so anxious in the light of day. It was his mentor’s house, after all. He wasn’t sneaking into it under the cover of darkness.
Kelvin looked to his side once he was in the foyer. Marin was gone from there, though. She was retrieved from the settee by one of Edmund’s men, no doubt, and a proper service would be given to her in the days to come.
The house felt smaller without her in it. He wondered what would become of it with both her and Lasho gone. They never had children, she never spoke of family, and seeing as she was a private tutor to him and him alone, there was no one for her to leave it to, as best as he could tell.
“They’ll auction it off, and she’ll be forgotten,” he whispered.
He moved through the
house in silence, as though he were the ghost. He reached that hidden partition in the wall where he kept his belongings and stuffed them into the chest he brought with him. Edmund had no doubt dealt with her vigilante garments. Though the secret of her identity could no longer be used to hurt her, it could have an effect on the royal family of Argos.
As he considered all the things bound to change, Kelvin fell upon that settee. Whoever his mother and father found to tutor him would be in for a treat when he would show up to lessons with bags under his eyes, welts and bruises on his body, and no way to explain himself.
He paused as he repeated that thought again. Even though Marin was gone, he never supposed he would stop fighting. Through the lingering pain, a smile crept onto his face.
He knew there was no ridding himself of the somber recollections he held onto. He replayed those final moments in his head repeatedly. He saw Thoro stab through Gerard’s body and wondered a thousand times whether he could have brought himself to bring his bow to bear, to take that fateful shot.
The prince dare not dwell on that regret for too long, though. Kelvin struggled to recall better memories of the woman. The most prominent that came to mind was when she blessed him with that sword. He tapped on the top of the chest that held his green outfit and the sword his master once used, and the lad allowed his mind to wander.
In that relaxed state, though, he held onto an odd consideration. Marin had given her sword to him, but she retrieved her sword from somewhere else.
It was as if a light flashed before him then. Thoro’s words to him—words shared by the Silver Serpent herself—echoed in his mind.
“Look up,” Kelvin muttered.
And so he did. There was an attic to Marin’s house, and that was where she retrieved Lasho’s sword.
Arching an eyebrow, the prince rose from his place on the settee, laying the chest down where he found it. He returned to the foyer and looked up, his keen eyes glowing gold once more. That time, though, he wasn’t searching for something in the distance. His eyes scanned the wooden beams that ran across the room, and with his strong vision, he noticed the subtle wear upon them where hands and boots had left their mark.
He exhaled a deep breath and followed in his late mentor’s footsteps, rising up the wall. When he arrived at the top, he slid a trapdoor away.
His side of the attic was dark, but the golden rays of the sun came in through the window on the other side of the building. That same light cast down and reflected upon the chest there.
Kelvin hoisted himself into the loft and stepped along the beams until he reached the chest. He fell to his knees before it, hesitant to lay his hands upon it.
But when he did, they trembled. And when the chest was opened, the rest of his body followed suit.
There, atop a layer of black velvet, was a flattened piece of parchment. The young man picked it up and held it within the sunlight.
For My Prince:
I’ve known for some time the strands of fate that kept me in this world were growing more threadbare with each passing day. I felt my time as your teacher was growing thin, which is why I took you under my wing and showed you the things that lurked in the shadows. I’ve not often felt like I could rely on someone the way I did you, and it’s certainly been longer than I remembered—before you were born, in truth.
For all the things I taught you, you taught me that life is better shared with someone else. One of the greatest gifts I was given in these past few years was the opportunity to share what I knew with you. You took all I had to give you and demonstrated an eagerness to learn more. You will make a wonderful king. Perhaps the best Argos has ever known.
Ruling over your people will be difficult, especially in light of what I must ask you.
Throughout all your training, you may have thought I was preparing you to be a suitable assistant to me in all my endeavors. And while I will forever be grateful for that time—even beyond this life—that is not the whole truth of why I was preparing you.
You see, Argos must always have a Silver Serpent protecting it from the shadows. For centuries, someone has donned the mask and the suit, and they’ve protected people in need when the world seems bleakest. They have been worn by paupers and former prisoners, soldiers and sailors. This will be the first time they are worn by a prince.
This is what I must ask of you, my dear Kelvin. You must be the Silver Serpent. That was why I was training you.
When you find the strength to heed my call, look beneath the velvet cover within this chest. I don’t believe you’ll wait long.
We will see each other in another life, My Prince. I look forward to hearing all your tales when next we meet. For if the adventures we shared together were as entertaining as they were, the ones you lead on your own can only be magnificent.
Remember to never doubt yourself.
I will always be with you.
A teardrop landed on her signature as Kelvin finished reading the last words Marin Cortes left for him. His breaths had been shallow while he was reading them, and he gasped for air that was soft and ragged. The lad sniffed and wiped his arm under his nose, catching the trail of tears that fell from both eyes.
She was right, of course. Even with his vision blurry, his curiosity would not be stifled. He reached down, setting the note beside the chest before his fingers traced the folds of the velvet it once lay upon. When he spread the cloth, he laughed through his sobs. For there, carefully tucked away, was a silver and black outfit beside a mask and a tricorne hat. Everything inside that chest was recently tailored, and he knew Marin had exercised one of her many talents to see them made to his measurements.
Kelvin smiled as he looked out of that window into his city. He knew no matter what the days ahead held for him, the nights were sure to be filled with adventures, just as Marin promised.
*****
The man cradled the blanket in his arms and ran toward the temple as though he was being chased by wolves. He sobbed every step of the way, until he saw the familiar face there.
“Daniel!” he cried, catching the cleric’s attention. “Daniel, please help me!”
At once, the cleric pushed past the people who had amassed before the house of their gods and ran to the fellow’s aid.
Once he was sure help had come to him, the fellow fell to his knees, laying the blanket on the ground. The vagrant wiped his eyes, the tears doing little to wash the grime from his face.
“What is it, Tuomas?” the healer asked, falling to the stone before him.
“It’s Finlay,” the downtrodden man sobbed. “Last night there was a ruckus in the center of town, near the lookout point. People were fighting, and fire was in the air. There were carriages rolling through the street, and my little Finlay…” The man’s words trailed off, and he braced himself on the ground beside the blanket.
Sighing, Daniel swept the blanket aside, seeing what lay inside. That yellow coat looked matted and dirtied, and the cleric saw the indentation on the dog’s side. The poor thing had been run over by one of the carriages Tuomas had spoken of.
“My friend, there’s nothing I can do, I’m afraid.”
“No,” the vagrant moaned.
“The gods grant us incredible gifts, but the ones we worship don’t give us the power to raise the dead. The best we can do for your friend here is clean him up and help you say goodbye as best you can.”
“No!” Tuomas cried again. “No, there has to be something!” Overcome with emotion, he tipped forward, and Daniel caught him on his shoulder. He let him lean there for a time, crying against his chest, even though the man’s dirty face and rags were sure to leave smudges across his fresh linens.
The tramp wept there against the cleric for some time, until he had no more tears to give. He sniffed one more time and looked away, as if reminded he was among the populace of Argos. Everyone witnessed him break down, yet no one beyond Daniel seemed to care.
“Do you want me to take him in?” Daniel asked. “The other cl
ergy, they won’t like it, but—”
Tuomas was already shaking his head. “No. No, he and I stay together,” he said. Gathering up that blanket again, he wrapped his friend in it once more and scooped him into his arms.
Though the cleric tried his best to placate the wretched fellow, Tuomas defied expectations and climbed to his feet before Daniel was ready. He turned and ran from the temple, ignoring the friendly cleric’s calls, until he was in another familiar part of the city.
The vagrant weaved between streets, until he arrived in an alley behind a row of houses. Nobody paid him any heed there during the day, and he collapsed against one of those buildings, knowing there wasn’t anybody who could stop him from pushing through his pain.
“Finlay,” the man cried again, unfolding the blanket to see his friend one last time.
Tuomas replayed the events of the previous night, thinking of how everything seemed to explode into motion once he saw that fellow fall from the sky. Everything after that was one strange event before the next. Crowds fighting in the street, monsters in the sky—
And he remembered a bright rainbow of colors lifting toward the stars. Tuomas, huddled over his lifeless dog, was close enough to reach out and touch the aurora.
He swallowed away the lump in his throat at remembering the way his friend looked, mangled in the street after the carriage rolled over top of him.
“Oh, Finlay,” he wept again. The desire to be close to his beloved pet overtook him, and he tugged the blanket out from under the dog, discarding it beside him. He squeezed the mutt closer against his chest, until he smelled the elements in his fur.
He held him there for so long he was nearly lulled to sleep, and it was only a sudden movement that roused him. When he opened his eyes, a wet nose was in his face.
Tuomas blinked away his stupor, and he realized Finlay was standing once more, staring at him with those big brown eyes. The dog opened his mouth and panted, and the tramp lurched forward, grabbing his friend in a great hug.
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