The Serpent and the Crown

by Sam Puma

  He shook the thoughts away and turned his attention back to the present moment. He was riding on the back of an Ashtari. He felt so free, but he had to remind himself to watch out for Cruxai. They always attacked at night, but the ones that ambushed them and shot Ixtlayo with poison arrows had attacked by day. He kept his eyes open, scanning the horizon for any sign of trouble.

  By midday they reached the abandoned settlement the Galdeans called Aturac. Ixtlayo paused to drink from the passing stream while Jankaro looked around. It was relatively the same as before but there were fresh marks of Galdean writing made with coals on the walls. Jankaro didn’t know much about writing, but his people sometimes used pictures. He dipped his fingers into the coals from a burned out fire and drew Ixtlayo’s face on the wall where the writing left off.

  They continued on, but Jankaro held Ixtlayo to a slower pace. Both of them recognized the shift in the landscape as they moved into Cruxai territory. The smell changed. It smelled like rotting fish. Ixtlayo was eager to charge forward and kill something, but Jankaro was wary of an ambush and preferred to make it to the cave without any altercation. As they traveled west the landscape became more barren and rocky. The sky was tinted yellow. It wasn’t the way Jankaro remembered. They kept to the road, but there was nowhere to hide even off the road.

  There was a modest mountain range to the south of Dorfin. He could scarcely remember the journey because he had been fading in and out of sleep, recovering from the stab wound in his foot. Rafael and Orion had described the secret path the caravan took from the cave to the road before he left Caladon. He was to go behind the mountains to a pass marked with a valley of pine trees, find a few that had been chopped down, and upon finding them, follow the creek down to a small lake. At the north side of the lake, he was to walk up exactly twenty paces, find a patch of purple flowers and pull on a gnarled root that stuck out of the ground. This would open the door of the cave. They figured the mouth of the cave would be big enough to hide the Ashtari, but he would not be able to fit much farther in. He could hide there and wait for Jankaro or find somewhere else to go.

  They left the road and headed south when they started getting close to the mountains. Here and there they saw skeletons of humans and horses hanging from trees and strewn across the ground. The smell of Cruxai was getting worse and Jankaro could feel a confrontation coming on.

  An arrow came flying from behind a large boulder. It hit Ixtlayo in the left shoulder. He stormed forward at the attacker while Jankaro fired arrows at the boulder. In a few strides he took flight to pounce. He took one more arrow in his chest as his paw crushed a single Cruxai beneath it. Just beyond the boulder were twenty Cruxai waking up and reaching for weapons. Among them were a few of the lizard horses. Jankaro knew they needed to kill them all before they relayed word of his scouting mission. He didn’t have to tell Ixtlayo, who leapt forward into the middle of them and crushed a few under his front paws. He lashed out from side to side and disposed of all of them in a matter of seconds. One of them lurched away on his lizard horse but Jankaro fired an arrow and hit the lizard horse on its hind leg. That slowed it down long enough for Ixtlayo to pounce and finish both of them off.

  They returned to the pile of twenty bodies and Jankaro ran his sword through all of them. He looked around to make sure there were no others. He pulled the arrows from Ixtlayo’s shoulder and chest and examined the wounds. The armor protected him but the arrows still penetrated and drew a few drops of blood. Jankaro was glad to find no trace of the sukumi poison. Had there been any, he was ready with the Sukuwasi remedy. Still, treating Ixtlayo for that kind of wound in the middle of Cruxai territory seemed like a gloomy proposition.

  Jankaro climbed back onto Ixtlayo and they headed for the mountains. The day was hot and the earth beneath them was cracked and dry. The western sky was grey in the direction of Dorfin. Ixtlayo kept a strong pace all the way to the mountains and started his way up and over. Jankaro felt sweaty and tired. The air, thick and hard to breathe, seemed better on the other side of the mountain range. The grass appeared greener. It seemed that something about the Cruxai sucked the life out of the landscape.

  They slowed their pace as they headed west and passed through stands of trees to try and stay out of sight. Jankaro was weary from the day’s ride and something in the air irritated his eyes. Ixtlayo continued forward with a more pronounced focus but couldn’t avoid the sound of snapping branches as he passed between trees.

  Jankaro and Ixtlayo worked their way through a narrow valley full of dead and dying pines. Ixtlayo tried and failed to maneuver through without breaking any limbs. Plumes of smoke rose above the hillside northwest of them. Jankaro knew they were getting close to Dorfin and needed to stay out of sight of the castle. He climbed off Ixtlayo and knelt down. “Everything here is dead. We won’t find any purple flowers.”

  It was late in the day and the sun would soon set. Jankaro realized they would be in a bad position if they could not find the Galdeans’ secret cave. He expected a small patch of pines, but they stretched out into the distance ahead. “Keep your eyes on the ridges and watch out for Cruxai. I will keep my eyes down and see if I can figure out which of these roots is the lever that opens the cave.”

  He gave every gnarled root that protruded from the ground a hefty tug and kept his eyes out for purple flowers.

  The clouds above assumed a yellow tint but the sky remained blue as the sun disappeared over the hill. Jankaro was startled by crunching and scuffling sounds behind him over his right shoulder. He turned around to see Ixtlayo shaking his head with a Cruxai in his jaws and another beneath his front paw. He opened his mouth and the dead Cruxai dropped. He met Jankaro’s eyes with a knowing look, letting him know that his back was covered.

  Jankaro turned back around and recalled the changes that had occurred in Ixtlayo since he was poisoned. Before he was wild. Now he was refined like a warrior.

  His thoughts snapped back to the present when something on the hillside to his left caught his eye. A circular pile of debris huddled at the bottom of a tree. He examined it and found dried flowers, bundles of herbs, feathers, and stones spilling out of an old woven bag. It looked like a bundle a medicine man like Anhael might carry, but it was long since abandoned and left to decay. Jankaro reached down to touch the dried flowers to see if they might be the ones he was looking for. Before his hand could touch them, something in the pile moved. It startled him and he jumped back. A black snake emerged and to his horror, he realized it was a sukumi. He froze for a moment. To his surprise, the snake did not strike but slithered past him down the hill. Ixtlayo leaped from its path and cowered behind a tree.

  Jankaro wasn’t about to let such a treacherous enemy escape alive, so he nocked an arrow and fired. He missed. He fired again and missed. The snake continued along in the same direction they had been traveling, right down the base of the valley. Jankaro was shocked to have missed twice, but he was determined to kill it. He stalked it, fired, and continued to miss, again and again. He grew frustrated and angry as he continued stalking the snake and recovering his arrows along the way. Ixtlayo wanted no part of it, and kept his distance.

  Jankaro’s frustration grew as the clouds turned orange and the sky was dark blue. He decided he was wasting arrows and time. He stopped and waited, so the snake could put some distance between them. He was about to turn and go back when he noticed the snake had stopped moving and lay partially concealed in a patch of dried shrubs. He took a few steps forward to where he knew he could hit the target. With all his focus, he aimed and let the arrow fly. Finally it connected and lodged itself in the snake’s side. He heaved a sigh of relief and heard Ixtlayo do the same. He was a little confused that the snake did not move or squirm. His brow furrowed with suspicion as he slowly crept up on it with his next arrow nocked and ready.

  The snake lay still as Jankaro approached. He leaned down to look close. The snake was gone, and the arrow was lodged i
n a large root that stuck up from the ground. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked around for the snake but there was no sign of it. He reached for his arrow to pull it out, but it was stuck in the root. He put both hands on the arrow and pulled up hard. The root moved with the arrow, and he heard a rumbling sound. To his left, a huge hole opened up in the side of the hill, large enough for Ixtlayo to enter. Jankaro blinked in amazement: the snake had led him to the entrance. He recovered his arrows and looked around for Cruxai.

  He lit his torch and stepped into the cave. It smelled like the earth. He looked around and saw the lever on the wall to close the entrance. Sure enough, it was a space large enough for Ixtlayo to enter.

  “Come on in. You can wait in here while I spy in the city.”

  Ixtlayo grunted his refusal.

  “Come in here. You could get killed out there!”

  Jankaro grabbed a fold of Ixtlayo’s armor and tried to pull him in. Ixtlayo held fast and let out a growl that any Cruxai nearby would hear.

  “Okay fine!” Jankaro released him and stepped back into the cave. “I’ll be back by morning. If they see you, kill them before they get away. I need you to be here when I get back.” Ixtlayo growled his apparent understanding. They exchanged one last look as Jankaro pulled the lever and closed the entrance to the cave.

  Jankaro started off down the darkened tunnel, discouraged to leave Ixtlayo behind. He worried about his Ashtari friend, but he knew what he was capable of, and if anyone could survive a night alone in Cruxai territory, it was Ixtlayo.

  He held the torch out in front of him and took note of the smoothly chiseled walls of the cave. It felt like the same cave he had come through with Orion and the others, but it was hard to be sure because he knew there were many different caves that the Galdeans used in their escape. He found himself wondering if there might be Cruxai or other foul creatures lingering beyond the arc of his torchlight, and considered if he would be better off using his night vision. He figured it would be best to put the torch out, but still felt a pang of anxiety as he lowered the torch into the cold earth below and extinguished it.

  When the sparks died he looked forward and saw nothing but black and blotches where the torch had left its imprint on his vision. They eventually faded as he blinked them away. He took two steps forward into the darkness and a wave of fear came over him. He remembered when he was in the cave outside of Olaya, and how the torch hissed as the giant snake’s mouth descended on him. “Bring me the crown,” her voice hissed from a distant memory. Jankaro collapsed to the floor and trembled. He was sure she was coming down the tunnel to devour him. He had the chance to take the crown and he didn’t. But at the time, he knew he would have been killed before delivering it. Would she understand that? Or would she just eat him anyway?

  A woeful sob squeezed up and out of his mouth. When the sound reached his ears, he finally got a hold of himself. “What am I doing?!” The fear was still pulsing through him as he rose to his feet. He realized he needed to put the snake out of his mind. He had a mission to complete. If she found him in the cave he would just have to kill her or die trying.

  For a moment he felt a flicker of hope that he had merely bumped his head back in the cave near Olaya, and this was all a dream, and he would turn a corner to find a rope dangling from above, with his father and uncle waiting to pull him up and bring him home.

  But no, it had been too long and too much had transpired. His best hope for seeing Jorobai again would be to defeat the Cruxai and ride Ixtlayo through the jungle until he found his home.

  He stood and looked forward. He knew Dorfin was up there somewhere. To go back the way he came through the temple, he would need to find a tunnel on his left. He squinted and relaxed his eyes. He could see speckles of light along the walls. It was light from the bodies of the worms and other tiny insects that tunneled beneath the surface of the earth. He reached out and touched one. It squirmed in his hand. It was a worm. When he remembered the worms that covered Ixtlayo, he dropped it and jumped back in disgust. After dealing with those worms, he realized he had finally discovered a creature that did not captivate his imagination. He wasn’t curious. It was a sad thought, but he forced himself to focus again as he continued his march into the darkness.

  As his eyes continued to adapt, it was easy to see the openings to the other tunnels because of the dark space between the glowing insects. He found one on the right and wondered where it led, but he pressed on a little farther until he found one on the left. He figured it was the one he had come through with Orion and it would lead him back to the church. He stared down it and saw nothing, but his nose picked up something. It was dank and moldy and… something else. He drew his sword and crept forward.

  The walls were close to his body and worms glowed all around. There was no room to swing, only thrust. With every step the smell got worse until it became so putrid that it hurt his throat to breathe. He pulled his yanigo hood down over his face but it only served to make his face sweat and lock in the smell, so he pulled it back up. He held one hand over his mouth and nose and it helped a little. He flicked a worm off his hand before it crawled into his nose. The roof lowered, the floor rose, and the walls narrowed as he continued forward. He couldn’t imagine how he had dragged Orion through such a confined space. Was it the wrong tunnel? He felt a squishing beneath his feet. There was moisture and it smelled like a blend of rotting flesh and feces. He hurried forward and gagged. As he got further past it, the smell receded. The roof lowered until he had to crawl on his knees. He figured he was getting close to the church. He put his sword away and crawled with his dagger in his hand. His pack rubbed against the ceiling. He slung it around his thigh. He crawled forward until his quiver rubbed against the ceiling. He slung it around his other thigh and decided he wasn’t going to crawl to his death on his belly. He would go a little farther, but he wanted to leave himself a chance to get back out if need be.

  His bow shifted on his back when it bumped something ahead of him. He reached out and felt a solid mass. He was at the end. Another surge of fear shot through him as he thought of being cornered by an enemy from behind. He craned his sore neck over his shoulder but his night vision detected nothing more than the scattered worms and crawlers that lined the walls. One of them crawled on his foot. He flicked it off with his knife. He felt around with his hand above him and traced the outline of a stone slab carved in a square.

  He knew it would be a long wait before the sun rose and the Cruxai went to sleep. His original plan was to sleep in the cave below the church until morning. But as the minutes passed, he became unnerved by the worms and other crawlers that explored his body. He flicked them away but they kept coming. They were especially drawn to the exposed skin of his face and neck. He swatted them all away and pulled his hood down. Something squirmed out of his hair and went for his ear. He flipped his hood up, pulled it off, and squished it between his fingers. He lowered his hood again.

  “I can’t stay here,” he hissed to himself. He placed his fingertips on the slab above and pushed it open.

  He wasn’t in the temple. He must have taken the wrong passageway. He was in a large hall, dimly lit with candles; he figured he was in the main castle of Dorfin. He set the slab aside and lifted himself up, brushing the remaining worms and insects away and restoring the slab. This left him positioned behind a large pillar in the corner of the hall. He stilled his breath and slowly peered out from behind the pillar.

  He saw the glow of small creatures all over the floor and a very large creature in the center of the hall. All of them lay still. Were they Cruxai? They didn’t look like any Cruxai he had fought before. And it was night. He wondered why they stayed dormant at night. He looked at the creature closest to himself and focused his eyes on it. It was small, like a human baby. It moved its arms in a small motion, and its breath rose up and down. Its skin was dark and scaly and the nose had a barb to it. It had to be a Cruxai baby. They
all were. He thought about torching them all, then felt revulsion at the cruelty of the thought. But after all, they were the enemy and they all needed to be killed one way or another. He reminded himself that he needed to keep his presence a secret. It was best to gather what information he could and continue on with his task.

  He squinted at the large creature in the middle. It was about the size of a Juruga, but it looked like a giant pile of mud. It was a fat and featureless blob. He couldn’t see a face or any limbs, but it expanded and contracted with its breath. There were no eyes to see him, but still he wondered if it could detect his presence. He suddenly felt insecure. The Cruxai might smell him and come after him all at once. He hid behind the pillar and thought about what to do. He fingered the handle of his knife. He had left his bow and arrows in the cave, but kept his knife and sword so he could move about quietly.

  He heard footsteps coming into the hall, and the grunting voices of the Cruxai. He clutched his knife tight and listened. They walked to the center of the chamber and stopped. They didn’t seem to know he was there. He listened as they moved around and periodically muttered to each other. After a minute he crouched low and slowly peered around the side of the pillar. They were two Cruxai of the common reptilian variety. Not much of a challenge for Jankaro, even if he only had his knife. He watched them work as they connected long tubes from the mouths of the babies to nipples on the large blob that they exposed beneath folds of its fat. Every time they made a connection it exhaled through a mouth he could not see. As the milk flowed through the tubes, a foul stench filled the hall. His curiosity mingled with a sense of dread. He watched as the new recruits of the enemy horde were nurtured into being.