“Sunveil shield?” he queried.
Very few people knew about that, let alone them being able to infer that mine was imbued in my crown. My mother had been the architect of the Sunveil Accords for our people which had involved Ryker Morgan commissioning the creation of Sunveil enchantments for all Basilisks, something that had been forged by Arcanum Order. Each one of my people had a certain item they’d had imbued, something they carried with them all the time, which shielded them temporarily from the harmful effects of the sun upon our species. “Yes, exactly. No shriveling away or being weakened under direct sunlight all the while this beauty and its enchantment is connected to me.” I gestured at theostentatiously mammoth quartz bar in the distance. “Would you care for a drink?”
“Oh, I don’t… alcohol isn’t—”
“That much has been made apparent.”
He frowned. “How closely were you observing me?”
“Same question.”
“What’s that?” he asked, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“You claimed that you saw me come in here from where you were watching upon your balcony.”
He stared at me, amusement sparking and some flirtation undeniable.
Alas, it was replaced by anxiousness all too quickly.
He cleared his throat. “So, that drink… what else do they have here at that ridiculously overwrought, extravagant bar?”
“For your specific circumstances, I’d suggest Earthbark Elixir. It calms without impacting mental acuity. Neither does it dull reflexes or impair your control in any way.”
“And?”
“And?”
“What does it taste like?”
Ah, of course.
“That didn’t even cross your mind? The flavor? Whether it would be agreeable? Pleasurable to drink?” He gestured at my glass of cognac. “Is that even?”
I swirled the liquor around my glass. “I suppose not.”
He smiled with amusement. “Let’s get that drink.”
His jovial laughter rang out,and the hearty, unencumbered nature of it rolled right through me.
“An actual snake?” he managed to utter through it. “Striking terror into the heart of a Basilisk community?”
I couldn’t suppress a chuckle myself. “A cobra,” I told him. “It reared up from its coil, flaring its hood and stared at us as though it were about to exact a coup d’état.”
His laughter intensified and he slapped his hand down on the bar top.
“And you can’t petrify it,” I went on. “It’s the purest form of a Basilisk, one of the very few creatures immune to that ability.”
“So, what did you do?” He winced. “You didn’t kill it, did you?”
There was that innocence and empathy shining forth once again. He looked utterly devastated just at the very notion of it.
“No. That would be blasphemy to my kind. Snakes cannot be harmed, let alone have their lives snuffed out by us.” I shifted on my stool and leaned in a little closer. “While they can’t be petrified, theycanbe dominated.”
“You made it submit?”
“I did, yes. Then he turned literal tail and went on his merry way.”
“Wow, that’s really something.”
