“We could cut it off.” Prospero picked up what looked like a meat cleaver.
“Hisarm?” Maggie asked, ready to step in and stop her.
Prospero shot her an incredulous look. “Thesnake.”
“Where did it come from?” Maggie moved closer so as to stand by Sondre’s head. She picked up a cloth and wiped sweat from his brow. He was clearly in pain, features drawn and eyes tightened.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t bring Craig home. I sent some hobs—”
“Hush.” Maggie kissed his forehead. “I’m not worried abouthimright now. I trust the hobs.”
“What if I clean the wound?” the doctor asked. “Maybe… if I pour the right mixture…” She walked away, still talking, and started putting together some sort of chemical and steaming water.
“It’s the staff of your own house, Sondre.” Prospero stood across from Maggie, on the opposite of the bed. “I think it was part of the house before Aggie… so it’syoursnow.”
“Don’t. Like. Snakes.”
“The snake seems to like you,” Maggie pointed out. Snakes don’t wag, but this one flicked the end of its tail side to side like an excited puppy. “Can we call the head of house to negoti—”
“He’s right here.” Prospero pointed at Sondre. “So negotiate.”
“You want me totalkto it?” Sondre sounded like they’d just suggested kissing the snake. “Do you see my arm right now? It’s killing me.”
“It’s accepting you,” a rough voice said from the other side of the curtain.
“Scylla!” Prospero practically launched over everyone to pull the curtain back. “You’re awake. Mae!” She called toward the doctor. “Scylla’s awake again!”
Maggie was caught off guard seeing the tense Victorian womanlooking so emotional. The usually intimidating witch moved to Scylla’s side and gently touched her forehead. Then Prospero helped her sit a little more upright. She was almost maternal.
“The staff is the symbol of your house, Sondre.” Scylla winced as she apparently shifted upright too much. “Accept whatever you’re refusing so as to take over the house from Aggie, so it can let go of her last command.” Talking so much seemed to cause her pain, but Scylla stared at him. “Do it.”
“What does that even mean?” Maggie stared at him.
“I don’t want it. I hoped Agnes would see reason and—”
“And the snake knows it,” Prospero surmised. “It’s conflicted between accepting you and not, because you are rejecting it. So I think it’s using both the teeth Aggie orderedandembracing you.”
Sondre looked horrified, staring down at the now-vibrating reptile. “I don’t want an embrace from a snake.”
“Agnes is not dead yet?” Scylla asked, meeting Prospero’s gaze.
The silence was fraught for a moment before Sondre finally said, “Prospero tried to kill Aggie. I tried to talk to her. Webothunderestimated Agnes.”
Then Mae returned with a simmering pot of what looked like plain water. “This will hurt. Someone… maybe a couple of you… need to hold him steady.”
Maggie crossed to that side of the bed and took hold of his hand. “Now what?”
“Can you hold his biceps, Prospero?”
The Victorian witch said nothing as she returned to the side of the bed and gripped Sondre’s arm. “Ready.”
“Is that boiling?” Maggie asked.
“Not much,” the doctor muttered—which was not a very comforting answer—and then she dipped an old-fashioned soup ladle into the water and poured it over the serpent’s head and Sondre’s purplish arm.
Sondre’s skin sizzled, and he arched his back off the bed. As the watersluiced to a bucket on the floor, Sondre said, “A little g’damn warning, Mae.”
“You came here to get treated,” the doctor snapped. “You’re getting treated. There’s magical venom in your arm. I’m cleansing it.”
