What a naga was doing among humans up and up in the sky, I may never know, but if I stay out of sight or range of the skycrafts, I should be safe. The female is right. It would be unfortunate to try and take me… Or anything that I guard.
“So, about that privacy, do you have a place to, umm… use the toilet? Bathroom?”
I tilt my head, noticing her bouncing feet for the first time. “There is nothing like that here.”
“I’m just going to go back in the farthest tunnel by the rocks and water then, if that’s all right?”
Go? “Do what you will.”
“I…” Her voice lowers. “Ugh, okay… Hey, do you have a name?”
It has been a long time since I thought about my moniker. Once, it was known across the forest, now it is only a memory of mine. “Darolussss,” I hiss.
“Darolus,” she echoes, then points to her chest. “Mine’s Sabrina.”
“Ssssabrina,” I test her name out, my hiss prolonging it.
She chuckles. “Yeah, close enough. You can leave now.”
Uncoiling, I head for the tunnel. I do not know the functions of this female, but I am learning. If I am to keep her here, I will need to know everything there is to know about her. That means I will have to listen to her, even if she might be lying, though I must be extra cautious because of that.
Because I do not trust her, nor will I ever.
Knowing her eyes are on my back as I slide into the tunnel, I move to the end quickly, rising and lifting my upper body out of the hole in the ceiling. Climbing out and pulling my tail through, I locate a nearby large stone on the floor and block the hole.
Peering through the crumbling cracks of the building, I hear the distant, thunderous sounds of skycrafts, far out of sight.
There are more than ever before…
And now I know what’s on them and what they might be after.
I do not know what this means for me and what I protect, but I know I willdieto protect it, even from small human females like Sabrina. My new pet. A feisty, erratic one I must learn to take care of.
Curing my tail under me once more, I lie down and wait.
NINE
COLORFUL MASKS AND UNDERLYING MANIPULATIONS
Darolus
My pet has not gottenany easier in the days that followed. Switching unpredictably between fighting me and being tame, I never know which side of her I will get until I am already in the thick of it. As much as it pains me—and her—I must still bind her every time I leave the open space my nest is in, as she has not desisted from searching for a way out.
I keep the main tunnel obstructed by rocks she cannot lift or push aside, but that has not stopped her from searching for small holes and places she can fit through that I cannot. Luckily my size, strength, and long tail have only been helpful in this regard. For what I can’t follow her into, my tailtip can. There has been no nook or cranny I have not been able to retrieve her from and block off afterward.
Then there are times I return when she is the opposite: lounging and exploring the space quietly, often staring out at the water or her reflection in it. During thesepeaceful moments she takes off her boots and chains and sets them aside, spending her time on the hide that’s still on the floor, the one I have come to think of as her hide. She sleeps there at night when I retie her to the rock.
When she pulls out the little colorful tubes and small shiny sticks from the pack around her waist, I know she is not going to try and run. Each time she does this, I pause what I am doing to watch.
Over the days, and with the fresh water I have supplied from a stream above, she has cleaned and reapplied the coloring to her face multiple times, sometimes fiddling with it for hours, perfecting the lines. It is fascinating. Each small stroke is done with the greatest precision, her body perfectly frozen as she peers into her hand mirror and pulls her skin taut around her eyes, purses her lips.
She knows I watch her when she does this and she does not like it.
Today, as she lays out her tubes and sticks, taking her time selecting which she will use, I pick up another rock behind my nest and throw it into the pool. In my spare moments, I have been trying to create a nicer space for her, clearing the bigger and mid-sized stones from the central area of my nest and displacing them to areas she will never go without her footwear. As for the smaller rocks that have scattered, those I throw into the water to be rid of them. They are a nuisance to my scales as much as they are to her delicate feet.
I have seen her throw a couple of the smaller rocks in herself.
We are alike in this simple activity, and for that I am grateful.
