“I can help,” she whines.
“No, not against an adult.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
The rustling grows louder, and Haime falls silent. Twigs snap, and a frog scurries out from under the bush. I’m holding my breath as the branches part and the gleam of dark eyes appears between the leaves. Solid black, they stare at us.They’re small, I realize, my brow furrowing.
The hissing heightens, and the bush shifts to reveal the naga entirely—a youngling. A male youngling, due to the lack of breasts. His tail slides forward and lashes out in warning. There’s fear etched across the boy’s dirty face.
I lower my weapon. “Are you alone, little one?”
He bares his teeth and snaps at me.
I take a step forward, free palm extended, disarming. “It’s okay,” I coo. Peering about, I don’t find any sign of adult nagas with him.
“Milly, what’s going on? Is… is he okay?” Haime says.
“I don’t know. Just stay back.” I focus on the boy, who’s pressed farther into the brush but still watching us—watching Haime. I shouldn’t try to help him, but he’s a child, no older than her, and even if he is a naga, it hurts my heart to think he’s all alone.
“Can we help him?” Haime asks.
Without answering, I put my dagger away and reach out to the boy. “It’s okay,” I say again. “You’re okay. We won’t hurt you.” Yet I know he could stillhurtus.
His eyes shift to me, and he hisses loudly. I take another small step forward. There is now a softness to his gaze. Perhaps he will calm—but thunder sounds and he startles.
“No!” I cry as he slips into the bushes and vanishes.
“Wait!” Haime runs past me and dives into the brush.
“Haime. Stop!” But she’s already crashing through the plants ahead. I take after her as the first raindrops fall from above. “Haime! Don’t!” She doesn’t listen, doesn’t stop. My eyes dart every which way, searching everywhere for her trail.
“Please wait!” She calls out ahead.
“Haime!”
Soon after the noise of pursuit stops and my trail goes dead. I scream for Haime, but she doesn’t answer, my only response to thewhooshof rain falling upon the leaves around me.No, no, no.Backtracking, I search for signs of a trail but am only led back to the thick clearing of grass and brush, the place where I’d lost my ward.
Heart hammering, I yell for Haime again, my panic increasing by the second, turning full-circle. I swipe out my spear to push back the overgrown leaves and vines. I beg for any clue to where she’s gone. My sandals begin to stick as mud gathers at my feet.Soon, any tracks will vanish.
The storm will wipe her trail clean.
I scream louder, desperate for a response. I pivot again when I see it—a large cropping of mossy rocks, tucked between arching roots from a nearby tree. But it’s not the rocks that pull my attention, it’s the ancient remnants of a naga nest and the pit in the ground behind it, hidden between the rocks. I surge forward and crouch at the pit’s entrance.Has she fallen? Was the boy bait?
“Haime!” I shout inside it.It’s deep, I realize, ducking in.Deeper than just a pit.It’s a hole—a cave entrance.
“Milaye,” Haime calls back to me, her voice muffled from somewhere deep within. A wave of relief crashes through me. I’ve found her.
“Haime, are you okay!? Are you hurt?”
“The boy ran in here, but I can’t find him—I can’t see.” Her high-pitched cry is far off. “I can’t see. I can’t see!” It grows shrill.
“Stay right there. I’m coming after you!” Setting my spear aside and pulling away from the entrance, I search for a piece of wood to light, but the rain has made its way down to drop in splats upon the underbrush. Rushing to the old naga nest, I find broken branches, concealed under the tree’s large roots. Grabbing the biggest of the branches, I tug out flint and fire moss from my pouch. By rubbing the moss at the end of the branch, I make a crude torch.
Returning to the cave opening, I light the torch and drop to a crouch. “I’m coming,” I call out. “Don’t move!”
Holding the torch before me, I unsheathe my dagger and descend into the cold darkness.
