Coiled

by H. L. Burke

  Ignoring his brother’s tirade, Calen inched closer.

  “I see that!” Volen brought the sword back to Laidra’s neck. Calen stopped, his pulse throbbing. “This ends now.” Volen nodded towards the ground at his feet. “You love her? Prove it. Lay your head down before me, accept the stroke, and I’ll release her. Gods help me, I’ll even escort her back to her parents. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to have her in their care again.” Smirking, he tilted his head. “Not so precious to you now, is she? When it means your life?”

  Calen’s head spun. He wasn’t fast enough to reach Volen before he could harm Laidra. Could he really take his brother’s word to let her live if he gave himself up?

  Fear and doubt warred within him. Once more, I can’t even say good-bye. He let out a long hissing breath and slid over the grass to Volen’s feet.

  The prince grinned. “Easier than I thought it would be. I came here prepared for a battle, so this is almost disappointing.” He shifted Laidra into the crook of his left arm and raised his blade with his right.

  “No!” Laidra growled. Her elbow rammed into Volen’s side, and her foot stamped down on his sandaled toes. Volen cried out. She broke free and dove out of the way of a sword swipe.

  Calen struck.

  His broad head impacted against his brother’s knees. Volen fell onto his back.

  Looming above him, Calen’s tongue flicked in and out. Volen swiped at him, his blade slicing into Calen’s soft underbelly. Instinctively, Calen whipped his tail, knocking Volen to the side. The prince grunted and rolled, his tunic shredded by Calen’s scales.

  Grab him, crush him, end this!

  Calen’s coils wrapped around his brother, ready to squeeze the life out of him, but his gaze fell on Volen’s chest, exposed by the tear. A jagged scar crossed his body.

  A young boy’s cries of pain echoed through Calen’s memory.

  Darkness, a voice speaking to him in his loneliness, brothers playing through a wall, Volen begging to see him, just once … then the scales, the rage, the instincts, his mother’s scream, his father’s shouting.

  His grasp loosened. Volen leapt away.

  With every muscle quivering, Calen swayed before his brother, unwilling to strike a killing blow.

  Sweat dripped from Volen’s forehead, sharp with the scent of fear. His chest heaved in great gasps of air. “I knew it would end like this. Father should’ve let me settle it years ago. Maybe when you’ve slain me, Mother will realize which of us is the true monster.”

  I didn’t want this. I never wanted this. Calen lowered himself, pulling his coils tight.

  Volen’s eyes widened. “What are you doing? You can’t …” His face hardened, and he brandished his sword. “Fight me!”

  Calen shook his head. If only I could speak, ask for forgiveness for hurting you, beg you to remember that we are brothers. We're brothers, Volen. I know that once meant something to you. Please, remember!

  Volen's scowl weakened. He stomped his foot. “No! It’s you or me. It has always been you or me! You won’t—” A cloaked figure emerged and stared straight at the squabbling princes. Volen’s mouth dropped open. His lower lip quivered, and a whimper escaped his throat as he stared at the woman. Her eyes were yellow, her skin sagged as if melting from her face, and her hair waved above her head, each braid tipped with the head of a snake.

  The color drained from Volen’s skin, the light dying from his eyes, and he froze as stone.

  Stone …

  The Gorgons! Laidra!

  Calen tried to cry out to warn her, but it was too late. The magic had him in its grasp. His scales ignored his commands. Everything seized. So cold, so stiff, so dark.

  Laidra, oh please, Laidra, be safe.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Escaping Volen’s grasp, Laidra dove into the bushes. The sounds of the two brothers scuffling and crashing echoed through the valley. She winced.

  I have to help him somehow. Oh gods, how? She felt in the grass for anything she could throw at Volen to give Calen a momentary advantage.

  A cold hand clapped over her eyes. Laidra gasped and flailed. How could she not have heard whoever it was approaching? Her hands sank through the being like water … exactly like water.

  “Shh!” The voice was that of the blue nymph from earlier. “You must keep your eyes closed, child. She’s here, the wandering sister. If you see her, it will be your doom.”

  Wandering sister? A Gorgon!

  “Calen!” Laidra whipped around.

  The nymph managed to keep her fingers pressed to Laidra’s eyes, only allowing in a faint, bluish light. “Poor thing. Your love—it is too late.”

  Laidra’s knees turned to jelly. “No …” It couldn’t be. Her whole purpose for being here was Calen. She couldn’t lose him again, not when she was so close to getting him back.

  Wrenching herself free of the nymph, she almost rushed from the shelter of the bushes.

  No, that’s stupid. Think!

  A circular object glinted a few feet away from her. Ellea’s mirror.

  Laidra scooped it up and held it so she could look over her shoulder. Two figures stood like silent pillars where Calen and Volen had fought.

  “Be careful!” The nymph clasped her hands before dissolving into a cloud of water droplets and fading into the air.

  Taking slow steps in reverse, Laidra found a third figure lingering just beyond the first two. The image was indistinct, but she could tell there was something not quite right about the outline of the head. It shifted constantly as if the being’s hair were moving.

  The satyr said they wouldn’t attack. Oh please, let that be right.

  “You should leave, child.”

  Laidra jumped, nearly dropping the mirror. The voice was high and airy with a slight rasp to it. The Gorgon sounded old, ancient in fact, but not threatening. Laidra tucked the mirror into her tunic.

  “This place is not safe for mortals,” the Gorgon continued. “These two have already paid the price for trespassing here. I would not see you do the same.”

  “Let me go to them. I … I have to see for myself.” Laidra shut her eyes and felt her way forward until her hand met cold stone in the shape of a pillar—a serpent's neck. She gasped. Fighting back the desire to fling herself on the Gorgon for what she had done, she calmed her frantic breathing, made sure she was facing the stone so it would block any view of the Gorgon, and opened her eyes.

  Calen stood before her, lifeless as a graven image. She ran her hand over his head, praying that her healing powers would counteract the curse. Nothing happened.

  “Fix him!” she choked out the words. “You have to undo this.”

  “I can’t, child. Only the touch of a god can undo my work.” The voice came from behind her, so she dared to look to the side where Volen cringed in an identical state of petrification, his eyes wide, his mouth partially open, looking frightened and pitiable. Still, if he hadn’t interfered, she would’ve gotten to Calen in time to warn him about the wandering Gorgon, and perhaps Calen would still be flesh.

  A god?

  “Cibron! Zephia! Jovan! I know one of you is watching!” She threw her face towards the sky and screamed. “This isn’t fair! Volen wasn’t supposed to intervene. We didn’t have a chance. You have to bring him back!”

  “Brave girl to invoke the names of immortals.”

  A hand grasped Laidra’s shoulder. She flinched and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “There is a story here, a story that makes you pine for the beast rather than the handsome man a foot away.”

  “The handsome man is more of a monster than Calen could ever be.” Laidra wept. “We are here on a quest to prove my worth and the worth of the man I love to the gods. If we do, they will grant him a return to his human form. If we don’t? I … I can’t give up now.”

  “If the gods will grant your plea, there may be hope, but they must act quickly.” The Gorgon withdrew her touch. “There is only so long a soul can remain within
a stone shell. By the time the sun has made a complete circle in the sky, the soul will have fled to the underworld, and no magic of god or man will be able to recall him.”

  A day. Perhaps it could be done. If she fetched the water, perhaps Jovan could heal Calen as part of the reward. It was the only hope she had left.

  “I need to fetch water from the Pool of Wisdom. Jovan will listen if I give him that. Please leave me so I can continue my quest.” She couldn’t exactly feel her way to the Pool of Wisdom with her eyes closed.

  “No, my dear, you do not want that. The cost will be too high.”

  “Do I look like I have anything to lose?” Laidra gritted her teeth, one hand grasping Calen’s stone. “Did you see my face? Calen loves me even like this. Without him, I have nothing.”

  “I suppose, by human standards, you aren’t lovely, but you forget to whom you speak.” The Gorgon gave a bitter laugh. “I am far uglier than you will ever be … and far more alone.”

  “But I've been told there are two of you. Don't you have a sister?”

  “Aye, a sister with the same curse.”

  “And do you care for her? What would you give to save her?”

  “Ah … so you compare your love for this snake-man to my love for my sister? Interesting.”

  “Whatever the price, I will pay it.” Laidra gripped her skirt in her hands. “Please, tell me how to collect the water.”

  The Gorgon sighed. “I will tell you, but when you discover the price, I doubt you will go through with this madness.”

  Laidra scowled and crossed her arms. “That would be easier to determine if someone would just tell me what the price is.”

  “No one knows, dear one. The Pool is guarded by Naiads, water spirits with a solitary purpose: to make certain that any who take the water regret it for the rest of their lives. They will gaze into your soul and demand something of great value to you, something you will be loath to lose. I’m guessing that is why Jovan sent you to gather the water, so the price would be paid by you rather than him. He’s always been selfish that way.” The Gorgon took her hand, her touch as rough as pitted stone. “Walk with me. I will not let you falter.”

  Eyes still closed, Laidra shuffled her feet through the grass, worried she would fall in spite of the Gorgon’s assurance. “I have little to give. Calen’s love was the only thing of value in my life, but now I’ve lost even that.” A tear slipped down her cheek. Her limbs felt heavy. “I have to try to save him, and that won’t happen without the water. I know others have taken from the spring; legends speak of at least one man.”

  “What was the man’s name?”

  Laidra opened her mouth. Ellea hadn’t mentioned that detail. “I don’t know. His name wasn’t part of the story I heard.”

  “Or of any story.” The Gorgon chuckled.

  The ground tilted upward beneath Laidra’s feet. Water burbled nearby, and the sweet scent of rushes filled the air.

  “When that man reached the Pool, all he cared for was glory, so the Naiads took it from him. They took his name so no one would remember it, and he died, forgotten and obscure, raving of the brave deeds no one believed he had done.”

  “Then why did he take the water?” Laidra frowned.

  “Who is to say? Perhaps he thought he could trick the Naiads, perhaps he mistook his own desires. Or perhaps, as in your case, the need was simply too great and his own happiness didn’t matter.” The Gorgon halted suddenly, and Laidra bounced off her shoulder. “Do you love this snake-man enough to give up your happiness?”

  “His name is Calen.” Laidra pulled herself up taller, but her stomach clenched. “I … I think so. I can’t imagine being happy without him, so it seems if my happiness will be the cost, I have nothing to lose.”

  “Hmm.” The Gorgon hummed. “You will need something to collect the water. I can provide that if Jovan did not.”

  Laidra’s face warmed. How had she missed such a simple detail?

  “The water grants health, longevity, and wisdom, but each person is only allowed to collect from the Pool once, for the Naiads want the most precious thing in your life, not the second most.”

  They started to walk again. Laidra’s sandals slapped against stone. “But what could Jovan want with the water? Gods already live forever, and they know everything.”

  “Do they?” She could almost see the Gorgon’s wry smile. “Is that your experience with the gods?”

  “Well … no, but they’re gods …” Laidra bit her bottom lip. “Aren’t they?”

  “A poor name for them, if you ask me.” The Gorgon sniffed, echoing something Laidra remembered Zephia saying. “No, they are but a shadow of what a true God should be. They are undeniably powerful, but not all-powerful and definitely not all-knowing. Though Jovan, like many, probably desires to be. Perhaps the water you present him will bring him a step closer to that state of being, but it will be a single step on an unending path. No, he’ll never reach that goal. Another already holds that crown, and He is unlikely to share it.”

  The thought of something greater than Jovan, greater than Cibron and his curses, soothed Laidra’s soul. She followed the Gorgon in silence.

  Her footsteps echoed now, as if she walked through a cavern. She thought about sneaking a glance at her surroundings but decided not to risk it. Even though she knew where the first Gorgon was and could avoid seeing her, the second might be lurking.

  “Thank you for your help. I didn’t expect aid at this point in my journey,” she said as their pace slowed.

  “Well, our purpose is to prevent the foolhardy from collecting the water.” The Gorgon squeezed her hand. “I think you have proven that whatever you are, you are not a fool. I only hope the Pool’s price will not bankrupt your spirit.”

  “What have you brought us, sister?”

  Laidra jumped and nearly opened her eyes at the sudden introduction of the second voice.

  “A girl on a quest. She’s in a hurry. Do you have a vessel she can use for the water?”

  “I have a gourd … but why are we aiding her?”

  “I will explain later. Bring me the gourd.”

  Something hard and smooth bumped against Laidra’s hand. She slipped her fingers around it.

  “If you walk from here and do not look back, you will avoid the sight of us and our curse,” the first Gorgon said. “On your return, when you get to the standing stones, close your eyes and walk straight for a hundred steps. That should get you to safety.”

  The Gorgon placed her hands on Laidra’s shoulders and pointed her in a different direction. Laidra took a step and hesitated. Should she go forth blind or trust the Gorgon and open her eyes? She eased one foot forward. Her toes found a fairly large stone. How many more obstacles lay in wait?

  Well, I have to open them at some point.

  She opened her eyes. Before her lay a rocky hillside covered in boulders and white-flowered shrubs. A path wound through the stones before disappearing at the top of the slope.

  “May the Creator of the gods go with you, child, for the gods certainly will not,” came the Gorgon's voice from behind.

  Laidra gulped and nearly sprinted up the path.

  Even knowing the consequences, it took all her willpower not to look back as she climbed. Something whispered in the back of her head, daring her, compelling her to look, but she ignored it, her eyes glued to the horizon. The farther she got from the Gorgons, the weaker the compulsion became.

  At the top of the path, a copse of pale willows stood sentry, their drooping branches swaying in the cool breeze. Laidra pushed through the curtain of leaves.

  Before her lay a glistening silver pool. In the center splashed a fountain singing constant bubbling song. She held forth the gourd. It seemed such a mundane object for her purpose.

  “Hello?” she called.

  No answer.

  She swallowed. The Naiads must be hiding. Or perhaps they were gone. Could she gather the water and escape without having to make the dreaded p
ayment?

  Careful to keep her steps light, she approached the water, knelt, and lowered the gourd towards the surface. It clanked against the water as if against glass. Biting her lip, she tried again. The water was as solid as stone. Though the liquid was clear, she could see no bottom, as if the pool only contained the reflection of the sky and her own homely face.

  Laidra exhaled. Before she could withdraw, a transparent hand shot out of the water. It grabbed her by the hair and yanked her into the suddenly-liquid pool. With a splash, the water closed over her head, and Laidra sank.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Bubbles burst from Laidra’s mouth. She clawed for the surface, but her hands met with a pane of glass. Her lungs burned. She kicked and thrashed, her tunic tangling her legs and weighing her down further.

  Something kicked her in the hindquarters, and she shot upward, breaking the surface. She found the bank. Her fingers sank into the earth, and with all her remaining strength, she pulled herself onto land.

  “Did you think you could just take it?” a cold but musical voice asked.

  Laidra faced the water but saw no one. She cleared her throat. “No one came to tell me otherwise. It’s not like instructions are posted.”

  “Sassy little thief.” The voice sniffed. The water rippled, and a face formed, like a theater mask made out of the surface of the pond. Its empty eyes glared up at her. “So you want water? Do you understand the price?”

  “Not really.” She looked about. “I’ve lost my gourd.”

  The vessel rose to the surface of the water.

  She picked it up. “Thank you. I am here at the request of Jovan. He asked me to gather the water, but no one can tell me what the price will be, only that it will be high.” Her chest tightened. She didn’t exactly have Calen, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t lose him. What if the Naiads demanded him as her payment?

  “Let me gaze at you.”

  Laidra got down on her hands and knees and peered into the water. The ripples distorted her face, but really, it couldn’t get much worse.