Serpent's Bane (Snakesblood Saga Book 3)

by Beth Alvarez

  Dragging himself toward the spiral ramp into the tower took everything he had, but staying in one place meant freezing. His teeth chattered as movement restored circulation to his limbs, numbness gradually replaced with pins and needles and aching cold. He slid onto the stone ramp and exhaled in relief to be out of the wind.

  The ache in his head made it hard to think. He remembered shouting, he remembered pain, but everything was a blur of agony and confusion. Belatedly, he realized his hands were unchanged. He gritted his teeth and trained his eyes on a doorway ahead. He had to start a fire, warm himself and figure out what happened. Unsteady, he got to his feet. He leaned against the wall for support and willpower alone kept him up and moving.

  The door to the council chamber was open, every chair empty. There was no fireplace, but at least the chairs would burn. He staggered in and reached for the energy flows that would let him make a flame.

  Pain exploded in his head and everything went sideways. He collapsed with a shout and gripped his head in his clawed hands. The sensation was slow to ebb and left him panting with exertion. Confused, he tried again. Once more, pain answered and magic escaped his grasp. Panic gripped him, colder than the biting wind outside. His last clear memories flashed through his head.

  Magic must be brought to an end, Filadiel said.

  No. They couldn't have. They were supposed to free him! Rune tried again, gathering every ounce of strength he had left. He pushed past the pain that left him trembling, desperately trying to snag a tendril of power. He brushed it. It did not answer, and instead slid free of his grasp. His stomach turned and he let his head fall to the floor.

  “You're alive!” a voice cried from the door.

  He didn't have the energy to turn and look, but the relief in her tone made him relax. Ria. The gryphon had come for him. His lightless eyes slid closed.

  Ria's feathered tail whispered against the floor as she moved close, lowered one of her wings, and picked him up. She was surprisingly gentle, mindful of the talons on her birdlike forefeet as she slung him over her shoulder and halfway onto her back. It wasn't until then that he realized how large she was. She moved him as easily as if he were a child. With what little strength he had, he gripped the thick feathers of her mane.

  “Now hold on.” She made sure he was secure before she started down the tower. Her gait was awkward and her footing unsteady, and her forepaws slid out from underneath her more than once. But she moved faster than he could have hoped to manage on his own, and when she reached the ground, she broke into a steady trot and released a bright warble. “I've got him!”

  Rune heard voices and the rattle of armor as people ran toward them, but all he could do was hold on to the gryphon's mane.

  “Get him into that tent!” someone shouted, the voice unfamiliar and distant. “You, call the healer!”

  The gryphon moved inside, the shadow of the tent soothing and comfortable after the bitter wind. “There, everything will be all right now.” Ria sounded confident and calming as she lowered him to the tent's floor. She wrapped him in blankets and nestled close, her feathers soft against his face. She smelled of fresh air and sunshine, and the scent stirred memories of Elenhiise. Releasing a quiet sigh, he curled up in the blankets. The thought of tall trees and white trumpet flowers drifted through his hazed mind as he succumbed to exhaustion again.

  “I knew nothing good would come of this. I told you.” The captain's voice boomed in his head.

  Rune flinched and turned away.

  “Shh, Garam. Not now.” Sera spoke softly. Her voice was close by and pinched with worry.

  Rune shuddered and shifted closer to something soft and warm beside him. Feathers tickled his cheek. He twitched and forced his eyes open.

  Everything around him was dark. He could only just make out the outline of Sera above him. He tried to focus on her face, but his eyes were too bleary to make out her features. Groaning, he lifted a hand to his head.

  “Oh, he's awake!” Ria whispered excitedly, though her tone was tinged with worry. She stirred, twisting her head toward him.

  “Take it easy,” Sera murmured, brushing fingertips against his brow. Her fingers were cool. Comforting, despite the chill in the air.

  “What happened?” Rune croaked. The sound of his own voice made him grimace. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry and his throat raw. “I was at the top of the tower, and then—”

  “The Aldaanan tried to kill you,” Garam said.

  Sera shushed him angrily.

  “Don't you shush me!” the captain growled. “They've deliberately crippled our army! He would have died if the gryphon hadn't—”

  “Enough!” Sera snapped, waving a hand. “Go worry about your army somewhere else. That's the last thing he needs to hear. He's weak as a day-old kitten and your shouting isn't going to help him recover.”

  A heavy silence fell and a tense moment dragged past before Garam grumbled beneath his breath, swept back a tent flap, and slipped outside. A blinding flash of daylight flooded the tent and Rune hissed, turning toward Ria's feathery chest and praying for the pain in his head to subside. The gryphon shifted to lay a wing atop him. The warmth helped; he hadn't realized he was shivering until the cold began to fade.

  Sera sighed. “I'm sorry. He means well. He is concerned for you, he just doesn't know how to show it. Can you speak?”

  Rune licked his lips and tried. His breath escaped in a hoarse rasp before he managed a word. “Drink?”

  Sera slipped away, then returned to press something close to his mouth. He struggled to lift his head as cool liquid splashed against his lips. He gulped it down and choked when the sweet-yet-bitter liquid left a burning trail across his tongue and a heat in his throat.

  “What is that?” He choked again and wiped his mouth.

  “Brandy. It'll help warm you up.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed the bottle away when she offered it again.

  Ria made a soft purring sound and bowed her head. “I'm glad you're awake. I'm so sorry, I wanted to get you sooner, but Filadiel forbade it and I had to wait for the mages to leave, and—”

  “That's enough,” Sera said. A cutting sweep of her hand brought the gryphon up short. “He needs to rest. Both of us need to be at full strength.”

  “No,” Rune managed, forcing his eyes open again. His head still throbbed, but his vision was clearer. He could just make out the worried expressions they both wore. “Tell me what happened. Filadiel said something about power given form, then...” He trailed off, recalling the way the flows had slipped beyond his grasp. Was it because of what they had done, or was it because of the pain in his head?

  “I couldn't see much,” Ria admitted sadly. “There was too much power being used. I couldn't risk being close enough to understand what was happening. But the mages were upset, and whatever they did caused you a great deal of pain.”

  “There was a fight after whatever happened up there,” Sera added. “The Aldaanan came into the camp and told Garam they were leaving. He wouldn't let me speak to them. He wouldn't even let me out of the tent. We knew something had happened to you, but it wasn't until after the Aldaanan left that Ria brought you down from the tower. I thought you might need healing, but there was nothing for me to heal. But you kept speaking in your sleep, repeating something I heard the Aldaanan say. Power given form, like you said.”

  Rune grimaced. “What else did I say?”

  Sera made a soothing motion with her hands and lowered her voice. “Please, listen. I realize you are a secretive person. But if there's something about your magic that makes the Aldaanan so angry that they abandon their city without a second thought, I need you to tell me what it is. You and I are the only mages left to fight the college.”

  He fell silent and stared at the tent's ceiling through the dark. The Aldaanan hadn’t seemed angry to him. If anything, Filadiel had been distraught. But Sera hadn’t seen what happened atop the tower. He wasn’t to blame for the mages leaving, but w
ho knew what had happened in their argument with Garam? Still, explaining the nature of his power was the last thing he wanted to do. He rubbed his eyes. The pressure granted small relief from the pain in his head. “I need to rest,” he murmured at last.

  “I'm not going anywhere until you explain things.” Sera folded her arms over her chest, making it clear she didn't mean to budge from the ground beside him.

  Frustrated, he sighed and rested one scaly hand over his eyes. “Fine. Ria, leave us.”

  The gryphon seemed surprised, but Sera nodded. Reluctantly Ria pulled herself up, stepped over him, and let herself outside. As hungry for knowledge as the creature was, there were some things he didn't want her to hear. He was in no mood for her questions.

  The tent grew quiet, Sera's uneasiness filling the air.

  “Well?” she asked at last.

  “You can tell Garam the Aldaanan didn’t leave because they were angry. I'm sure he thinks I have something to do with it, but I don't.” His headache throbbed behind his eyes. He covered his face with a hand, silently resenting the scales that were still there. “They told me they were leaving, and that they meant to empty the city. But if everyone else is still here, I don’t know how long it will be before they come for them.”

  She regarded him thoughtfully for a time before she dropped her arms and leaned closer.“Tell me what happened at the top of the tower.”

  “They said they were going to help me,” he replied. Putting it into words, it sounded naive. “I thought they meant they were going to cleanse the taint in me.”

  “The taint in your power?” She sounded confused.

  “The taint in me,” he repeated. He reconsidered the drink she'd brought. He'd never had much of a head for alcohol, but another swig or two might help his headache. “Filadiel said power given form always takes a twisted form. My form. I thought it was just my Gift, tainted when it was unbound, but—”

  “Wait, unbound?” Sera interruped. “You weren't born a free mage?”

  “No. At least, I don't think so.” Then again, he wasn't sure he'd truly been born at all. Birthed by magic, perhaps, by the energy of the world around them, but he had no birth parents. Despite himself, he thought of Kifel and his throat constricted. “Let me have that drink again. And let me rest.”

  She handed him the brandy with a begrudging frown and leaned forward to rest a hand against his brow. “At least you're not fevered any more. Very well. Rest. I'll be back in a few hours to check on you.”

  Rune said nothing, but took another swallow of the burning liquid as she left him alone in the dark.

  When Rune awoke, the pain in his head had subsided. He lay unmoving in the shadows inside the tent for a long time, still weakened but no longer exhausted. He couldn't tell what time it was without rising, but with warmth finally restored to his limbs, he wasn't eager to move from the heap of blankets. Dim, warm-hued light penetrated the canvas, but it could have been from a campfire or the setting sun.

  It was his tent; he recognized his sparse belongings now that he had time to look. He didn't remember Ria carrying him that far. Then again, he didn't remember much. Not clearly, at least. It was just as well—he wasn't sure he wanted to remember.

  After a time, he sat upright, stretching slowly to test his limits. He didn't feel stiff, and he hadn't lost any fingers or toes to frostbite. That was probably to Sera's doing; he did recall someone calling for a healer. If the Aldaanan were gone, Sera was the only healer left. The thought put a bitter taste in his mouth.

  Once more, he reached for the energy around him, seeking his magic and finding himself empty-handed. His head didn't hurt this time, but a strange pressure filled his skull and an uncomfortable tightness pulled in his chest. The sensation reminded him of what happened if he held his breath too long, and he didn't like it at all. Swallowing, he looked down at his hands.

  He didn't understand. No matter how he played events through his head, he couldn't figure out why the Aldaanan had turned on him. They—and Ria, for that matter—made it sound like they'd seen tainted magic before, and they'd seemed so confident they could fix it. What was this supposed to teach him? Why did they want to bring magic to an end? It wasn't as if he could help the actions of the mages who came before him. The Aldaanan had been eager to teach and he'd been a willing student. He curled his claws into his palms and clenched his fists in his lap as he tried to tamp down his rising anger.

  Red light flashed on his glossy scales. Startled, he moved his hands and watched as the color of the light changed. His eyes. Rune scrambled out of the blankets and jerked his sword free of its scabbard. The otherworldly glow of his eyes reflected in the polished steel. The light was dimmer, faint enough that the light vanished when he looked at its reflection directly, but it was still there. So they hadn't bound him. Or at least, not completely. Frowning in confusion, he sat back on the blankets and stared at his sword. If his eyes still glowed, there had to be a way to use his power.

  He tried to recall his lessons from the temple. There had to be something, some bit of knowledge about contacting power sources he might have been told before. But nothing came to mind. He grimaced and cradled his head in his hands as he tried to think. He'd never realized how little he'd learned.

  A horn sounded in the camp, shattering his concentration. Rune grimaced as it blared again. He grabbed his armor as the sound of soldiers rousing to answer the call filled the camp outside.

  For him, the warning couldn't have come at a worse time.

  The glare of the setting sun threatened to make his headache return the moment he stepped from his tent. The camp boiled in a frenzy. Half-dressed men ran to retrieve armor and weapons. Others filed into ranks. Rune spat a curse and pushed through the growing crowd, making his way toward the captain's tent.

  Garam intercepted him halfway. “You're up? You're moving.” He swung an arm toward the mountains to the south. “The college mages have breached the mountain pass. Sera's moving against the eastern band, but there's a company gathering on the southern edge of the camp and they need a mage.”

  Rune's stomach dropped like a stone. “I can't.”

  “I gave you an order, now move!” the captain barked, shoving past him to shout at other soldiers.

  Gritting his teeth, Rune moved after him. “And I said I can't!”

  Garam stopped and turned to glare at him, but the moment their gazes met, the captain's anger disappeared. “Your eyes,” he breathed. He didn't have to say anything else.

  Sober, Rune nodded once.

  His magic was gone.

  The Snakesblood Saga continues in book 4, Serpent’s Wake.

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  Author’s note

  Thanks for reading Serpent’s Bane! It’s sort of funny—a lot of fantasy series experience what’s referred to as “middle book slump” where it feels like nothing’s actually happening in the center of the series. Contrary to that, I always felt like the middle Snakesblood books were the most fast-paced of the series, with the stakes climbing ever higher in every single chapter. I expect you might be a little anxious to see what happens after that ending. The good news is you won’t have to wait for long—the next book in the series is slated for release in the fall.

  This particular book endured six rounds of editing and three rounds of proofreading, but accidents still happen. If you find any typographical or formatting errors in this book, please let me know so I can fix it for the next reader.

  If you enjoyed this story, I’d love to have you join my author newsletter, too—it goes out twice a month or so, with information about new releases and peeks at extras like artwork and works-in-progress. You can find it here: http://www.ithilear.com/newsletter

  Hope to see you there!

  - Beth

  About the Author

  Beth Alvarez has enjoyed writing since childhood and is a ravenous reader.

  A visual arts major, Alvarez has worke
d as a freelance web designer, graphic designer, illustrator, and video game programmer. When not writing, she enjoys drawing, playing video games, driving, and sewing for her unusual collection of Asian ball-jointed dolls. Her collection can be seen on her YouTube channel, Lomi’s Playground.

  Raised in southern Illinois, she now resides in the suburbs of Memphis, Tennessee with her husband and daughter, their Siberian husky, and a very mean cat.

  Books by Beth Alvarez

  FANTASY BOOKS

  Gale’s Gift

  Of Blood and Rain

  To Steal the World

  To Steal the Crown

  To Steal the Queen

  Serpent’s Mark

  Serpent’s Tears

  Serpent’s Bane (Thanks for reading!)

  Serpent’s Wake (Coming autumn 2020)

  PARANORMAL BOOKS

  Keeper’s Finder

  Her Midnight Cowboy

  Her Midnight Wedding

  Her Midnight Hunter (Coming autumn 2020)

  The First Hunt (Newsletter Exclusive)

  Death of the Sun

  Born of the Moon