I lift my face, puzzled. “Persephone? That’s new.”
Griffin’s expression seems to say nothing surprises him anymore. There’s also a stoniness to it, and I can practically read the questions on his mind.
Harbinger. My stomach suddenly rolls like a pitching ship, and I move out of Griffin’s arms. He releases me except for keeping one of my hands in his.
“We still don’t know where to find the Ipotane,” I call to the wizard.
Silence. Blank stare. I don’t know why I bothered.
I start to turn away, thinking we’re finished here, but then the conduit to the Gods opens his mouth to speak, surprising me yet again.
CHAPTER 13
OPENS HIS MOUTH TO SPEAK? SCRATCH THAT. IT’S NOTwords that come out of the wizard’s mouth. That would be too simple, and when did the Gods ever do simple? Drama is their collective middle name.
A shiny, dark snake head rises from the man’s thin throat, and my stomach starts to kick its contents around in disgust. A forked tongue flutters out to lick the air. Lidless eyes and gleaming scales reflect the moonlight as the reptile slowly emerges, swaying slightly in the way of the most deadly and venomous of snakes. Deep green or black—it’s hard to tell in the dark—the creature has a row of diamonds on its glistening back, the pattern alternating between crimson and gold. It keeps coming until two and then three feet of snake dangle from the wizard’s slack-jawed mouth. The Chaos Wizard convulses every now and then. His bottomless eyes are a whirling tangle of otherworldly light as he heaves up more and more of the snake, distressed sounds rattling in his chest.
Completely horrified, I stare at the long rope of reptilian muscle arching toward the porch. The snake keeps its triangular head raised, its unblinking eyes shining an eerie reddish-yellow as its tongue darts out again, vibrating.
I’m fifteen feet away, but a quick, stinging lash seems to whip the side of my face. I flinch, touching the icy path smarting across my cheek.Is it an Oracle? Or something else?
“Gods on Olympus,” Griffin murmurs under his breath. I guess he can still be surprised after all.
Kato curses softly when the snake hisses in his direction.
The Chaos Wizard gives one last heave, and the creature drops to the porch with a slap of scales on wood. Raw, choking coughs rasp in the wizard’s throat. Then he stares blankly again, his eyes a spinning, iridescent mix of golds.
The serpent slithers down the steps and then glides soundlessly toward us. I despise snakes. I’m about to back away when it stops and forms a nest of coils, settling into a bed of its own body to observe each of us in turn.
I have no idea what to make of this, but I do know one thing… “Snakes are mean and unpredictable.”
“Sounds like someone I know,” Carver tosses my way.
“Har, har,” I respond dryly, keeping my focus on the snake.
“Don’t go near it, Cat.” Letting go of my hand, Griffin steps in front of me. “Don’t,” he repeats, as if I need the extra instruction.
I lean around Griffin’s arm, tracking the creature’s movements and the direction of its eyes. It gives us all another piercing once-over, that two-tined tongue shooting out again.
A chill ripples through me that has nothing to do with the frosty wind. I slip a Kobaloi knife free, weighing it in my hand. If there is any surviving magic in the sinew wrapping the hilt, it doesn’t nip at my palm. I don’t know why the snake is here, but I don’t like it. Snake symbolism ranges from very good to very bad, but it’s not as though anyone keeps a pet adder around, and this snake is clearly dangerous.
Torn, I can’t quite bring myself to throw the knife. Is this somehow another gift? It might not be. The Gods are a vengeful, spiteful lot. They rarely get along, and they can be opportunistic. Whoever sent the snake may simply be implementing a straightforward, time-old strategy—the friend of my enemy is also my enemy—that has nothing to do with us.
My eyes don’t leave the serpent as I call out, “Who sent the snake?”
The wizard doesn’t answer.Of course.
The creature rises from its nest of coils, hissing softly. Its roaming glance is sly and subtle, sliding over Kato without any real pause, but instinct screams at me that the serpent just found its mark. My heart hammers a frantic beat, and I stop hesitating. My knife flies from my hand and lands…in the dirt?
I gasp. I never miss.
The snake strikes so fast it’s hard to see. Kato somehow sidesteps the sudden explosion of movement, twisting out of the way. His fiery cloak billows as he spins, splashing light over sharp, curving fangs and glistening scales. I see the glassy surface of a predatory eye, and then nothing as the snake drops to the ground with a soft thump and disappears into the long grass.
“Where is it?” Kato whirls, drawing his mace.
Flynn turns in a slow circle, his battle-ax ready in one hand, a knife in the other. The rest of us don’t move, as if going perfectly still will help us find a shadow in the dark.
Apparently, it does. “There!” I shout, pointing to Kato’s left.
