In the Coils of the Snake

by Clare B. Dunkle

  Nir leaned his head against hers and looked at her hand holding his, wondering what she was thinking. “This engagement has seemed very long,” he reflected. “I’m glad it will be over soon. I’ll finish my magic, and we’ll dance on the night of your marriage moon. We can survive until then, don’t you think?”

  Miranda looked up, and he smiled at her. She smiled back and felt a lightness sweep over her, as if her heart were a little flake of ash that had just flown up the chimney. But a second later, she came back down to earth with a thump. She remembered that he was leaving.

  “I want to come with you,” she said. “You took Kara on your trips.”

  `And so I would you, if I could,” said Nir, “but this is a difficult trip: constant walking, constant magic, too cold and hard for a delicate human who can’t see in the nighttime woods.”

  Miranda thought about Kara and remembered what Sable had said about elf men and human women. “Maybe your magic is getting rid of me,” she exclaimed in distress.

  “No, it’s not,” said the elf lord reassuringly.

  “But I — I probably — well, maybe certainly — can’t have children, either.”

  Baffled, Nir studied her anxious expression. “Sometimes I don’t understand you at all,” he remarked. “Please worry about something that makes sense to me, like whether or not it’s going to rain tomorrow. Don’t worry about whether or not you’re going to have a child years from now. That seems very strange.” He put his arms around her and held her close. “I have to go.”

  She walked with him to the boundary. “Can’t you kiss me goodbye?” she begged.

  “No,” he said, smiling, “but I’ll kiss you hello.” And then he walked away. She stood at the edge of camp and watched him disappear into the blackness, the stars at her wrists and ankles sparkling as she struggled to follow him. How pointless, she thought bleakly. How completely irrational. Her new guardian came to stand beside her.

  “Hunter, he’s gone!” she exclaimed in despair.

  Hunter thought up several witty replies to this but looked at her face and decided against them. “You’re right,” he concluded. “But you’ll be glad he’s gone. I’ll feed you better.”

  “How’s that?” Miranda asked absently. “You’re not a lord.”

  “That’s just it,” the blond elf assured her. “No special privileges for Nir. He says that’s what ruined the elves in the first place, excess and caprice at the top. But I always eat better than everyone else. A little excess and caprice at the bottom never hurt the elves.”

  “Elf food is terrible anyway,” said Miranda. “I don’t see what difference it’ll make.”

  “Not elf food!” insisted Hunter. “Just Nir’s food. No, you take it from me, all dried deer meat is not the same. It may look the same, it may smell the same—”

  “It may taste the same—” said Miranda, smiling.

  Hunter drew himself up indignantly. “Oh, go ahead, mock a serious subject!” he declared. “That’s all you humans think about anyway, making silly jokes.” Miranda laughed, which had been Hunter’s goal all along. He was very pleased with himself He was sure the elf lord could still hear her.

  • • •

  Miranda went to the tent alone that morning, happy that the spell would shortly force her into sleep. She awoke with a start, knowing even before her eyes opened that something was wrong. Then she heard the shouting.

  She scrambled out of the tent. Elves were screaming, running, frozen in confusion, stunned, and terrified. But the shouting was in English. She ran toward the sound.

  Just beyond the boundary stood sixty goblin soldiers, the finest and most hideous of the King’s Guard. In front of them stood the goblin King, shouting for Nir.

  “Come out of there, elf lord!” he called. “Don’t make me wait all night. We’re not here to hurt your elves, I promise. We’re just here to kill you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Catspaw!” shouted Miranda, running up to face him across the boundary line. He could have reached out and touched her if it weren’t for the magic that kept them apart. “Catspaw, get out of here with your Guard! You’re frightening the children.”

  The goblin King smiled down at her, but his eyes were very cold. “I’m not just frightening the children,” he growled. “I’m frightening them all. Every last one of them — except my sensible Miranda. Where is he?” he continued, gazing at the cowering elves with cruel satisfaction. “I don’t see the prettiest elf anywhere.”

  “He isn’t here,” she said. “He left last night.”

  “Of course he did,” said Catspaw, nodding grimly. “But don’t worry, we’ll find him.” He turned to his Guard. “He’s not here,” he called in goblin. “Mongrel, hunt his trail.”

  “How dare you break the treaty like this!” she cried as the gangly, droopy-eared goblin came forward and began sniffing along the boundary line. “Nir gave you his own bride, and you’ve gone back on your word!”

  “I’m not breaking the treaty,” said Catspaw. “He broke it first. Last night your elf lord attacked Sable as she came to see you. He sent her back with a warning to me that my spies weren’t safe, and then she died right in front of me, her heart stopped by magic. Treaty or no treaty, do you think I’d let him live after that?”

  Miranda stared at him, speechless with shock. Nir, arms around her, telling her he loved her, and Sable, collapsing in death as a brutal warning against spies. “That can’t be possible!” she exclaimed. “It can’t be! Sable’s dead?”

  “She’s as good as dead,” answered the goblin. “Someone has to stay with her and work the magic to make her heart beat while the Scholars search for a counterspell. I’m almost positive it won’t help, but I had to try something.”

  “He wouldn’t have done that!” insisted Miranda. “Nir wouldn’t have killed Sable!”

  “Oh, yes, he would,” replied Marak Catspaw. “Your pretty elf enjoys attacking women. You should know; he dragged you away and worked magic on you by force. Mother was the first, in the truce circle, no less. He got a hand on her by fraud and left her devastated.”

  “He attacked Kate?” gasped Miranda. How could anyone hurt Kate?

  “Sable is the third goblin subject that he’s treated this way,” said the King. “Who knows how many of his own people have suffered? Sable was afraid of him from the start, and so was Irina. Sable only came here at all because she was worried about you.”

  Miranda’s world was crumbling into ruins again, something that she was growing used to. “There has to be another answer,” she declared. “You can’t kill him, Catspaw. The elves need him to do what’s best for them.”

  “They don’t need him at all,” said Marak Catspaw. “They need me.” He looked around serenely at the terrified, fascinated elves. “I’ll make sure they’re safe, well, and properly taught. We should have ruled the elves after the death of their King, just as Marak Whiteye proposed. If they’d agreed to that, there would still be thousands of elves instead of this tiny band.”

  “King Fox and the chickens!” scoffed Miranda.

  “You sound just like they do,” Catspaw retorted. “It’s a good thing Father can’t hear you. How many elves have I harmed, Miranda? How many did Father harm? All the elves hate us, except for the ones who actually know us. And poor Arianna! They told her I would cut her and bend her and scar her up until she looked worse than the ugliest goblin. You can’t imagine how terrified she was. It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “But Catspaw, you can’t kill Nir,” she insisted helplessly. “I love him.”

  The goblin King flexed his lion’s paw and studied the big claws. “So I’ve heard,” he remarked dryly. “That’s not why I’m killing the elf lord, but that’s the reason I’ll enjoy it.”

  “But you said you wanted me to be happy!” exclaimed Miranda. “Nir’s going to marry me.”

  “No, he isn’t!” laughed Catspaw. Then he paused to study her face. “There are only two explan
ations for this,” he continued matter-of-factly. “Either he’s lying to you as an exceptionally cruel form of revenge, or he’s insane, which I’m inclined to believe anyway.”

  Mongrel came trotting up, ears flapping. “I’ve found the trail,” he wheezed in his high, whining voice.

  “Good,” said the goblin King. “We’ll finish this in no time. And I do want you to be happy,” he added, turning away. “The minute he’s dead, those stars will fall off, and you can come back home where you belong.”

  Miranda hurried along the boundary line, keeping up with his long strides. “Catspaw, Catspaw, please!” she begged. “You said you’d do anything for me!”

  “I did it already,” he answered. “Father didn’t raise you to be imprisoned by a mad elf.”

  Think, think, Miranda told herself You have to do something. “Catspaw, your father raised us both,” she said breathlessly. “You’re like a brother to me.”

  “Why, so I am,” said the goblin King, stopping to smile at her.

  “Do this one thing for me,” she said. “Don’t kill Nir. Please!” The goblin King stared at her as he thought things over. “And will you do something for me, little sister? Say yes, and I might consider it.”

  “Yes!” cried Miranda. The King began absently shredding the bark off a tree with his claws.

  “All right,” he said slowly. “I promise not to go after the elf lord and not to authorize any other goblin to attack him. No goblin will harm any of the other elves, either. I’ll follow the treaty.”

  Miranda scowled at him. “That’s just what your father did,” she retorted. “He said he wouldn’t authorize anyone to follow Seylin, and instead he allowed Seylin to be followed without his express permission. You know anyone in Sable’s family will try to kill Nir, starting with Tinsel and Tattoo.”

  “Clever girl,” said Catspaw approvingly. “But I’ll command that there be no attacks on the elf lord. No goblin violates a direct order. The only way your precious elf will be killed is if he attacks one of us goblins. I can’t promise away our ability to defend ourselves.”

  Miranda turned over the promises in her mind. Surely Nir would know not to attack the goblins. There were thousands of them, after all, and the goblin King was so powerful.

  “What do I have to do?” she asked suspiciously. “It will be horrible, won’t it?”

  “Miranda, these elves have corrupted you,” said Marak Catspaw benignly. “You just have to come back home where you belong and live under my command. You’re my subject, you shouldn’t be out in these drippy woods. It’s a wonder you’re not sick or dead.”

  “But I won’t see Nir again!” whispered Miranda.

  “That’s the idea,” he replied. “Don’t just glare at me. Tell me yes or no. I can’t wait long, I have an elf to kill.”

  “Yes!” hissed Miranda. “You know I don’t have a choice.”

  “Fine,” said the goblin King. “I’ll give you a few minutes to arrange your affairs.”

  He walked off to speak with his Guard, and Miranda turned to find Hunter standing behind her. “You know I have to leave,” she told him, struggling against tears. “You heard what they were going to do.”

  “Yes,” said the blond elf, his handsome face grim. “I’ll gather some things we’ll want to take.”

  “But you can’t go,” protested Miranda. “The elf lord needs you.”

  Hunter gave her a tight smile. “Sika, Nir left you in my charge,” he pointed out. “If he comes home and learns that I let a goblin have you, the first thing he’s going to do is kill me. I’ve been Nir’s friend for years, and I couldn’t do that to him. Killing me would hurt his feelings something awful.”

  He returned with a pack and erased the camp character. Then he took Miranda’s hand and crossed the boundary.

  The goblin King turned as they approached. “Who are you?” he asked, eyeing the elf curiously.

  Hunter was pale, and he flinched as those ghastly eyes raked over him, but he held his head up and looked straight at the King.

  “I’m Hunter, and Sika was left in my care,” he said loudly. “I’m not going to hand her over to you. Either I come with her, or she doesn’t go at all. You’ll have to kill me to get rid of me.”

  “I won’t kill you,” said Marak Catspaw, quite unruffled. “An honor guard. That’s showing Miranda proper respect. Come along then. You can be her elf guard. And, Tattoo,” he called, beckoning the young goblin from the line, “you can be her goblin guard.”

  Miranda frowned when she heard the familiar name. So they still want me to marry him, she thought. Another member of the Guard led up a horse. Hunter stared at it, appalled.

  “Hey! Get that thing out of here!” he exclaimed, jerking Miranda away from it.

  “The horse is for Miranda,” observed the goblin King. “I have one for you, too. We’ll have to ride because it’s too far to walk.”

  “We will not have to ride,” declared the blond elf emphatically. “I wouldn’t let Sika near that frightful beast. Too far to walk! Do you have any idea how far I’ve walked in my life?”

  Catspaw frowned. “I thought you were concerned about Miranda’s welfare,” he said. “It’s a two-hour walk at least.”

  “Oh,” scoffed Hunter. “I thought you said it was too far.”

  The goblin King, rather short on sleep, eyed the elf balefully. “All right,” he decided after a minute. “we’ll do it your way.”

  Whispering softly, he took off his long black cloak and held it so that it Just brushed the ground. It dangled in the air alone when he released it. Then he spread out the sides and the hood, pulling the garment taut. When he stepped back, a half-circle of black cloth hung flat in the air before them, the hood forming a shallow cave at the top. It looked like a giant black bat.

  “There you are,” said the King to Hunter. “Just step through.”

  “That’s not my way!” insisted Hunter.

  “It isn’t a horse,” explained the goblin King. “Tattoo, you go first. Walk through the middle, and don’t forget to duck.”

  Tattoo stepped forward without hesitation and vanished into the cloak. Hunter walked around it cautiously and studied it, but Tattoo was nowhere to be seen.

  “I’m not risking Sika’s life on a goblin trick,” he said huskily. “Elves are such cowards,” remarked Marak Catspaw with satisfaction. “They’re afraid of everything but trees.”

  Hunter’s jaw tightened at that, and he strode into the cloth, pulling Miranda with him. A second of blackness, and a cliff face loomed before them, glimmering in the dusk. They stood on thin, scrubby grass about thirty feet from the forest’s edge, and a line of broken cliffs barred their way. Tattoo stood to one side, casually surveying the area.

  Hunter jumped in alarm. The goblin King’s cloak hung in the air right behind him. He jumped again. Now the goblin King stood right behind him. Marak Catspaw studied the nervous elf as he retrieved his cloak. Miranda didn’t even bother to look up.

  “Here we are,” announced the goblin King.

  “Where are we?” snapped the elf. “And why?”

  “This is Miranda’s new home,” replied Catspaw. “I can’t bring her into my kingdom because of those stars, so we’ve renovated some old guest quarters. Right through there.” He nodded at the cliff. “Go ahead.”

  Miranda looked up and remembered Marak bringing her through the front door only a few months ago. She had been so happy to be going home with him at last. Her happy future had crumbled several times since then. She wondered if it would continue to crumble every single time it appeared that it might possibly be happy.

  Hunter glared desperately at the sheer, broken rock, his whole being rebelling against it. No worse destiny awaited an elf than being dragged into the goblin caves. He stalled for time.

  “I’m not bashing my face into a rock wall,” he told the King. “I don’t want it to look like yours.”

  “Stop acting like a child,” replied Marak Catspaw calmly. “Tat
too, you go first again.”

  The goblin promptly disappeared into the rock. Hunter couldn’t let himself be outdone, so he closed his eyes and hurled himself at the cliff face, almost jerking Miranda off her feet. A second later, he collided with Tattoo. They were inside a large stone room.

  “What happened?” demanded the surprised goblin. “Did he have to give you a push?” The distraught Hunter felt that rudeness could go no further. He couldn’t even frame a reply.

  The goblin King walked past them to a door in the far wall. `And through here,” he said, pulling it open. Tattoo walked in and looked around with interest. Miranda stepped in looking at her feet.

  Hunter staggered in and closed his eyes against the bright light. Marak Catspaw examined the elf. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, and his breathing was shallow.

  “Miranda, you’d better help your guard sit down before he faints,” Catspaw concluded.

  Miranda helped Hunter over to a thick mat on the floor while Tattoo brought a handkerchief dipped in water. Hunter leaned back against the cave wall and slowly began to revive.

  “I’m fine, really, Sika,” he muttered, opening his eyes to glare at the goblins. “It’s just that this place is so dreadful.”

  “What a shame you don’t like it,” remarked the goblin King, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “These quarters were designed especially for elves.”

  They were in a cave about twenty-five feet wide and so long that Miranda couldn’t see the end of it. It curved away steadily in a shallow bend. Unlike the goblin palace, this cave had been left close to its natural state, or perhaps, decided Miranda, it was just supposed to look natural. The bumpy, irregular walls curved upward to become the sloping ceiling about twenty feet above them, and the cave floor was uneven, too.

  The cavern, full of shadows to her human eyes, was just light enough that she could distinguish colors. The walls and floor shone milky white, as if they were covered with ice, and hanging globe lamps cast a dim, pearly glow. Columns stretched from ceiling to floor here and there, like stalactites or tree trunks. They were the color of fine jade, and they matched the wide, thick green mats scattered on the floor near the walls.