Coiled

by H. L. Burke

  Calen shot up. This time, instead of biting, he looped himself about the beast’s neck. His rope-like body snaked down the length of the dragon, around and around, until he was coiled about it like a spring.

  The dragon wrenched this way and that. It scratched at Calen’s scales, rending them. Pain tore through him. Droplets of blistering blood slid down his body and dripped to the earth with a searing hiss. He tightened his coils. The muscles around his broken bones throbbed, but he ignored them and squeezed harder. Eyes blinked madly beneath him. The dragon bellowed, but the outlet of breath gave Calen opportunity. He constricted his body, determined to keep the dragon from taking in another breath.

  The monster thrashed, its claws scraping the stone. Sulfurous fumes rose from its nostrils, and it rolled over.

  Calen nearly lost hold when the bulk of the monster crushed him into the ground. He pushed his head out. His tongue flickered. An unbearable stench caused him to retch. Though his vision blurred, he stayed fast. Finally, the dragon lay still.

  Blackness washed over Calen. His coils loosened, and he slipped onto the rocks. The deadweight of the dragon pinned him for half a breath, but with the last of his strength, he tugged until his tail snapped free. Then he collapsed, the world dancing about him.

  “Calen!”

  I’m all right. I did it. In his confusion, he forgot he couldn’t speak.

  She loomed over him, her brows drawn and her mouth pursed. “Calen? Can you hear me?”

  Somehow he managed to pick his head off the stone path and give a slight nod. She sank to her knees and guided his head into her lap. Healing energy poured from her like warm water washing over his scales. He allowed his tongue to skim over her hand, drawing in her scent. Memories of their time together overtook him, and he sank into a pleasant stupor.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Laidra’s eyes watered at the stench of the dragon. Her stomach churned, and she feared she’d retch all over herself and the sleeping Calen. She dug in her pack for her water flask and veil. Dribbling a little water over the cloth, she pressed it to her nose.

  A little better, though some of the scent still prickled her nose.

  As she had watched Calen struggle with the monster, her instincts had warred between wishing to rush to his aid and running in terror. Neither action would’ve helped him, so she had simply cowered, praying desperately to the unknown god.

  “And you came through for me, again,” she whispered. “Perhaps you are real, the one who created the gods and the earth itself.” Hope rose like a fire within her. “Perhaps we will triumph.”

  The sun beamed down on her from directly overhead. They’d need to move on soon if they wanted to make it to the gardens by nightfall. What awaited them there? If one looked at a Gorgon, they’d turn to stone, but if one simply didn’t look, were the Gorgons really that dangerous? Would they attack and try to pry their victim’s eyes open?

  Calen’s eyes were lidless, making it hard to tell whether or not he truly slept. She had noticed that they glowed slightly brighter when he was conscious. They were dim now, though his tongue still occasionally flicked out, a spidery touch over the back of her hand.

  Something clattered in the distance. A loose stone skidding from the cliffs, perhaps? Laidra went rigid. Was someone or something out there waiting to strike?

  She stared for some time in the direction of the sound. It didn’t repeat, and she saw nothing.

  Calen sighed. His head rose from her lap, and he nudged her cheek.

  She smiled and ran her hand down his scales. “Are you feeling better?”

  He nodded, his eyes shining.

  “Well then, let’s be off.” She stood and shook the pins and needles from her legs, glad to leave the smelly corpse behind.

  She walked with Calen swaying beside her. The air cleared a little with each step.

  The sun dipped below the edge of the canyon wall. Laidra rubbed her arms, trying to calm the sudden goosebumps. Calen froze, his tongue working in and out frantically. Then his pace quickened. Hurrying after him, Laidra soon found a new scent tickling her nose, fresh, green, and fragrant.

  “The gardens!” she grinned.

  Sunlight flooded the path ahead. Beyond, a verdant valley opened. Willow trees hung beside a pool of sparkling water. Grass grew fertile and lush, dotted with pink and white flowers. Laidra rushed from the cold stone and sank into the meadow. The grass tickled her skin as she rolled in it, laughing. Calen slithered beside her. She put her hand on his head and lay staring up at the bright blue sky.

  A laugh floated towards them. She stood and glanced about. The faint music of panpipes drifted from the willows.

  Laidra stepped towards the sound. Calen began to follow, but she held out her hand. “Stay here.” Placing her veil over her face, she knew she wouldn’t frighten whoever it was. Worst case scenario, it was the Gorgons, but she couldn’t imagine that laughter coming from a creature so frightening it could turn flesh to stone at a glance. No, it was high and fluting, reminding her of Ellea's voice but without the undercurrent of cruelty.

  Perhaps that isn’t who Ellea is any more.

  The memory of her sister made her recall the mirror. She fished it from her bag and walked backwards, staring into the reflective surface. Figures moved among the trees, one so green it nearly blended in with the curtain of willow leaves, one brown and stocky, the third fluid and shining blue.

  No, not Gorgons. Though perhaps they know something of them.

  Turning, she called out, “Hello!”

  The creatures froze. The blue and the green beings looked like human women, so beautiful they would’ve made Ellea’s face pucker with envy. The third, however … coarse brown hair covered his barrel-chested body which was supported by two crooked, hairy legs ending in cloven hooves. Twisted horns rose from his curly mop of hair over a face that could best be described as … well, Laidra didn’t feel justified in labeling anyone homely, but if any man could give her a run for the title of ugliest, it was this fellow.

  Nymphs and a satyr. She drew in a breath. Magical beings decked many a vase and tapestry in the Olevan palace, but she’d never seen real ones. Her father had chased them from the kingdom when she was an infant. Perhaps it would be best to keep her identity a secret in case they held a grudge over past injustices. Still, they’d have no way of knowing who her father was, and they might be able to tell her about the Pool of Wisdom and the Gorgons.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “I was hoping you might answer a few questions.” Laughably formal but at least she was polite.

  The satyr lowered the panpipes he’d held to his lips. “Excuse me for staring, but we don’t see many mortals here.” He motioned past her to where Calen lurked in the long grass, still visible and clearly poised to strike if anything threatened her. “You have an odd traveling companion.”

  “He won’t hurt anyone. I know he’s frightening, but he’s got a good heart.” She cleared her throat. “I was wondering if you could tell me where to find the Pool of Wisdom.”

  The nymphs exchanged a frightened glance before shrinking behind the satyr.

  The satyr’s brow furrowed. “If that’s what you seek, you should turn around now. Only sorrow awaits in those waters. Yes, they can cure disease, grant long life, and even provide prophetic visions, but the cost—” He shuddered dramatically. “You seem a nice girl, polite anyway. Whatever your heart desires, the water will not provide it.”

  “I don’t seek the water for myself.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Please, it’s my only hope to help my beloved.”

  The blue nymph cocked her head. “It’s the snake, isn’t it? He has a glow about him, a glow of magic. That isn’t his true form.”

  “Yes, and Jovan says he will release him from his curse if we bring him water from the Pool.” Laidra clasped her hands. “How do we find it?” She eyed the stream that babbled behind the trio. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

  “The Poo
l is at the highest point of the garden, and while the streams of the garden feed off it, only the source has the potency folk desire.” The satyr pointed deeper into the garden. “You can seek it out, but I fear you’ll find the cost is higher than you will wish to pay, even to save your loved one.”

  Laidra’s throat tightened. If she lost Calen, she had nothing. No cost could be too high. “And the Gorgons?”

  “Oh, the poor things.” The nymphs leaned closer together and made gentle clucking sounds like mother hens.

  Laidra raised her eyebrows. “So they don’t attack people who try to gather the waters?”

  “They don’t need to,” the satyr scoffed. “One of them roams the gardens, the other guards the path. To get to the water, you must confront them. They know all that happens here. In fact, it is likely they are watching us now.”

  Laidra stiffened. “Will they stop us from getting to the Pool?”

  “That is not their purpose. They protect the pool from the unworthy, from those who would use its powers without discernment.” The satyr rolled his eyes. “You would be surprised how many folk lack this simple virtue. Most fools stumble upon the Gorgons, wide-eyed and idiotic, and immediately harden to stone. If you use caution, you will have little trouble. I saw your trick with the mirror.” He nodded towards the object clutched in her hand. “That should work well. A clever idea, that. They don’t have the same power in reflection.”

  She nodded. “Thank you. You’ve been a great help.”

  A sudden crack of thunder echoed in the sunny meadow. Lightning flashed, and the trio ran shrieking for cover.

  Whirling about, Laidra searched for Cibron. Sure enough, there he stood, less than an arm's length from her, a smirk on his insufferable face.

  She glared at him. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to interfere.”

  “Steady.” Cibron flicked his wrist and a black cloud formed around them. “That’s to keep my nephew from interrupting our chat. With him in possession of his wits, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to talk to you alone.”

  “I have nothing to say to you.” Laidra crossed her arms. “Let me go. We’re inches from completing our quest.”

  “Really? Is that what you think?” He snorted. “Trust me, ugly one, the worst is still before you. You forget that Jovan is my father. He has no desire to see you succeed.”

  She drew herself up tall. “I have no reason to listen to you. Go, or I’ll make sure your father knows you violated his rules.”

  “I’m just talking!” Cibron held up his hands. “What if I could give you a reason? What if, in return for you forsaking this mad quest, I could give you what you always wanted?”

  Heat rose in Laidra’s face. Did this man really think he could bribe her into betraying Calen? “Calen is what I want.”

  “You think he really loves you? That’s so adorable.” The half-god smirked. “You’re hideous. The moment he’s human again, he’ll find a way to forsake you for a fairer love.”

  She studied the wall of cloud that swirled about them. Lightning flashed within the haze. It probably wasn't a great idea to go barreling through it.

  “I could cure your curse, make you as lovely as your sister.”

  “Jovan!” Laidra threw up her head and yelled at the sky. “Can you hear me? Your son is cheating!”

  Cibron shook his fist at her. “You’ll regret this. Either you’ll die attempting to save the beast you’ve deceived yourself into caring for, or you’ll complete the quest and he’ll break your heart. There is no loyalty in my family.”

  “You’re wrong.” Laidra stuck out her chin at him. “Calen and Zephia are the only people who care about me. They’ve both gone out of their way to protect me—”

  “They’re using you, idiot.” Cibron rolled his eyes. “You were better off with your own family. If you were beautiful, your parents would take you in.”

  “Yes, conditionally.” Her stomach tightened. She wanted to leave her parents behind, not think of them now when she was so close to happiness with Calen. After all she'd come through, memory of their rejection still pricked her soul like thorns. “That’s the only way they’ve ever cared about me: conditionally.”

  “You really think that? Your father tore his kingdom apart looking for a cure for your curse in your infancy, turning on the satyrs and nymphs in his anger and desperation. If he’d really been so indifferent, he would’ve had you drowned as a child.”

  “Touching.” But inside, something softened. Her father’s attempts to aid her on her quest had surprised her, and while he’d been distant, he had never borne her the contempt that Perys had exhibited. Perhaps there could be some healing there, but not on Cibron’s terms. “Let me leave.”

  “Well then, in the spirit of fairness, let me give you this warning: my brother betrayed me with no regard for familial affection. He passed that duplicity to his sons in his very blood. Perhaps Calen hasn’t demonstrated it yet, but he will, and Volen knows that. He’ll die rather than allow his brother to threaten his throne.” Cibron's lips curled in a malicious grin. “Remember, Jovan forbade the gods and half-gods from interfering in your quest. He said nothing of mortals. While we’ve been speaking, your beloved has been blissfully unaware of what is creeping up on him from behind.”

  Panic jolted through Laidra’s breast like one of Jovan’s lightning bolts. “Let me go!” she shrieked.

  Cibron cackled, and the clouds around them swirled into a vortex. Laidra fell to the ground, buffeted by the winds. Thunder rolled, and with a streak of light, Cibron was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Calen watched Laidra conversing with the strange beings. The creatures cringed back at first then angled towards her—a decidedly non-threatening position.

  Something cracked behind him. He whipped his head around and stared at the line of trees swaying in the breeze. The inhabitants of this place seemed harmless enough so far, but he’d fought a dragon far too recently to believe this idyllic garden was without danger.

  A roll of thunder shook the sunlit day.

  Cibron?

  He spun back towards Laidra only to have a wall of cloud descend like a curtain. If he’d had a voice, he would’ve screamed. Instead, he slithered as quickly as he could into the isolated storm.

  A blast of wind pushed him backwards. He flattened himself to the ground and tried to crawl beneath the weather. Lightning flashed around him. Shocks pricked at his scales, and fog clouded his vision.

  No, Cibron was forbidden to interfere. It has to be someone else. But who else could summon a storm like this?

  Pushing through a wall of wind, he found himself in the sunlight once more, but with no sign of Laidra. From the location of the trees, he must’ve skirted the storm rather than penetrate it. He hissed in annoyance and turned to try again.

  A sharp pain hit him below the neck. He spat and wrenched about. A twang sounded, and another stabbing jolt hit him just below the first.

  At the tree-line stood a man with a bow. A familiar man. A mix of fear and frustration welled up in Calen

  Volen. Why can't you just leave me alone?

  Calen pasted himself to the grass, knowing that by staying low he’d be a difficult target. He scuttled into the high grass at the edge of the meadow and paused, darting his gaze between his brother and the raging storm.

  Volen shouted, “You can’t hide! If you have any man left in your soul, come out and face me like one.”

  Brave talk from the one who sneaked up on me from behind. Calen flexed the muscles along his spine. The arrows wriggled painfully in his flesh, but his thick skin had saved him. Going further into the grass, Calen moved towards his brother.

  “I see you!” Volen nocked another arrow but his hand shook, perhaps realizing how little harm his first two shots had caused. He edged away from Calen’s hiding place.

  Calen weighed his options. Once he was within striking distance, Volen had little chance against him. It was simply a matter of whether h
e was fast enough to get close before one of Volen’s arrows found a more vulnerable target, an eye or his underbelly. Perhaps I should be grateful for that storm. It’s keeping Volen from Laidra.

  The storm chose that moment to stop.

  As quickly as it had arisen, the wind died and the clouds wisped away. Laidra lay in the center of a circle of crushed grass, quivering. She picked herself up and stared. Volen’s aim shifted from Calen to her.

  Calen burst from the grass like a thrown spear.

  “Look out!” Laidra shrieked.

  Volen’s shot went wild. He dropped the bow and sprinted, colliding with Laidra. She lashed out, but his arms encircled her. He whipped a long blade from his belt and held it to her throat.

  Calen’s strength drained from his body and he nearly collapsed.

  “Don’t come any closer!” Volen snarled.

  “This is ridiculous!” Frustration edged Laidra's voice, and her eyes glinted above her veil. “What do you hope to gain, Volen? You have your kingdom, your lovely wife, everything! Let us be!”

  Volen’s grip tightened, and Laidra gasped in pain.

  Rage spiked in Calen’s chest. He clenched his jaw, imagining his coils wrapping around Volen’s ribcage just as the prince now held Laidra.

  “You think I’m naive? We were raised at odds, and we will always fight. Oleva was promised to me as surely as Carta. If I don’t end him, he’ll come back again and again. He’ll steal my throne as he stole our mother’s affection.” Volen’s lip curled. “I’ve heard it all my life. 'Perhaps he’s a monster, but Calen has a good heart, a strong heart, he’s the worthy son.'” He spat. “Worthy but weak. I’m the strong one; I'm the victor.”

  “Yes, you’re so valorous, bedding my sister to save yourself,” Laidra scoffed.

  Calen chuckled inwardly.

  “Shut up, you witch.” Volen shook her. Her veil fell from her face, revealing a clenched jaw and flared nostrils.

  Volen pointed his blade at his brother. “Do you really love this creature, or did you simply hope she’d be desperate enough to lie with you to break the curse? Even now you’re using her.”