The emerald snake found its way into the bedroom, squeezing under the wood, for it was not a large creature. The scent of its prey was strong here.
Yes, this was the right place.
If there had been anyone awake to listen, they’d have noted the silence within a silence. Behind the nearly noiseless crackle of the candles and the sounds of breaths marking the seconds, the serpent’s movements were a palpable silence. Like shadows in a moonless forest or a man’s heavy breath in a windstorm.
The serpent was not the only one who had found its mark. Just as quiet and just as sure it was in the right place, the little bird fluttered high above the beds.
As the snake climbed the bedpost, the bird attacked. Soundlessly, it dove. Its tiny claws raked against the emerald scales, leaving crimson flecks of blood behind like sparkling rubies. Its beak pecked at it, finding soft flesh under the hard scales, and all the while, those wings did everything they could to pull the serpent from the bed; away from the one it hunted.
The sudden attack surprised the serpent, and it couldn’t hang onto the bedpost. With a final tug, the bird tossed its enemy onto the duskthorn floor. The serpent coiled around itself, preparing to strike.
Birds and snakes have been natural enemies for longer than humans have walked Nyth, and both are well aware of how to fight the other.
The snake bided its time, knowing that only one of the two of them would leave this room the way they’d come. The bird would attack rather than stay aloft. They are meant for action, while the serpent was made for patience.
They watched each other, the tiny bluebird flying nearly to the ceiling of the bed chambers while the snake coiled around itself. Then, with a flash of sapphire in the candlelight, the bird dove.
The snake struck, head moving towards the flash of blue, just as quickly. Mid-air, they tangled themselves. The bird wrapped its tiny claws around the snake’s head, and the snake tried to turn to bite the bird. There, hovering mid-air, they struggled. Equally matched enemies who had fought a thousand times, they understood each other in ways no one else could. It is only by truly understanding someone equally powerful that you can hope to defeat them.
Each peck or rake of the claws by the bird left drops of crimson in its wake. The serpent did not hope to wound the bird, but it only needed to touch the bird a single time with its fangs.
The bluebird drove its beak into the serpent’s eye, blinding it, and for the first time since they’d entered the room, it let out a hiss of pain. In the process, the bird had loosened its grasp on the snake’s head.
With no hesitation, the serpent twisted in the bird’s grasp, and it sank the tip of its fang into the bird’s thigh. Its venom sac pumped liquid death into the tiny creature. Its effects were almost instantaneous, and the tiny bluebird’s wings failed. Together, they fell to the ground, but before the bird ever touched the duskthorn,it disappeared, returning to another place or maybe even another time.
Bleeding and blind in one eye, but victorious, the emerald serpent hit the floor without a sound. And the silence within the silence lingered just a little longer. Just long enough for the emerald snake to climb a bedpost.
Just long enough for everything to change.
Chapter 38
“I was right, and you know it.”
“You’re a prick.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“You’re a prick.”
“You could be a little grateful that I did the hard thing, so you didn’t have to.”
“You’re a prick.”
~Conversations between the Twins
Fiona
Darian proved to be the most valuable of the six of us when it came to digging, but everyone helped. It wasn’t the kind of work any of them were used to. I doubt even Darian would have concluded that hiding in a hole was the best plan, and doing something so menial seemed to bother all of them. I guess that’s not all that surprising since Rurik was a prince before he was Godforged, and Darian’s been a High Fae for hundreds of years. Yet, they still did it without complaint.
Darian transformed himself into a digging creature with long claws made for breaking through the side of the hill. Elara quickly carved all of us wooden shovels from a tree she and Rurik chopped down with their swords. I’d asked if it would dull their blades, and they laughed. I guess the Godforged’s blades are too hard to dull or something. Regardless, it only took us a few hours to create a hole we could all fit in. Then we covered the front with branches. Elara had her pegasus fly a few miles away from us for the night so that it wasn’t found, but she promised she could have the steed back in less than an hour.
It was hot, dirty, and clumsy work. Our new home is smaller than even the poorest hovels, but all we need is a place to sleep. Thoughts of Rhaskar’s story about lying amongst the dead Mindless run through my mind, and I can’t help but think that our original prison cell wasn’t all that bad.
The only problem came when we were done and sitting in the dirt with nothing to do.
“I’m guessing none of you thought to bring any vittles,” Rurik says. “Erik was supposed to bring the ale, but I guess we’ll have to go without that.”
I blink. “Do you even need to eat? I thought you were all immortal.”
