by Marlow York
“This woman is like a sister to you now. She is kinder than you, but perhaps not as strong. There will be times when you must be strong enough for both of you.”
“But my real sister is…” I stopped myself, ashamed to be arguing with a goddess, but also not sure how to finish the sentence.
The snake brought her head close to my face and her tongue flicked against the side of my neck. I flinched and inhaled sharply. “The pain of loss seeps out of you like water through a broken pot. Be brave, young Fire Bringer, and you will go far. Your path will not be an easy one, so to repay your kindness, I give my son to you.”
I felt something squeezing my calf, and when I looked down I had to restrain a shriek while a small snake coiled its way up my leg. Even in the darkness I recognized the dark brown snake with large black circles on its back. It was the snake that had been injured by the children, but its injuries were healing very quickly. Already the cuts were sealed and scabbed over, and new skin was replacing the scales that had been rubbed raw. I reached down and the snake coiled around my arm, its body tensing and relaxing to propel itself up my shoulder and around my neck. The sensation was strange and unnerving, so I couldn’t help when the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“I can sense that you are afraid of my kind,” the Snake Goddess said. “However, Sarrenke is right—we can learn much from those we fear. If you treat him well, he will learn much and grow to be a powerful protector and companion to you for the rest of your life.”
The smaller snakes began to retreat into the forest and the goddess turned to leave. Her voice faded slowly out of my head. “Your Fire clan may have been destroyed, but your story does not end with them. A great flame burns within you. Nurture your fire until it is so strong it cannot be extinguished.”
The trees bent and groaned as the massive snake disappeared into the forest. After the hissing had died down and the foliage straightened again, there was no evidence of the creatures ever having been there. Except for the small snake coiled loosely around my neck.
Chapter 9
When I awoke the next day, I nearly screamed when I saw the small snake curled up beside me, feeding off my body heat. He awoke and stared expectantly up at me, like a small puppy or a curious child waiting to hear about the day’s plans.
I grimaced at him. Why couldn’t the housecat goddess recognize greatness within me? I could deal with a small furry creature, but this?
He tilted his head curiously, perhaps wondering why I was staring at him. I slowly reached my hand toward his face and he flicked his tongue, taking in my scent. I guess there was something sort of cute about his little face, the way his mouth always seemed to be smiling, and those amber, unblinking eyes.
No, not the unblinking eyes.
I shivered again. He couldn’t even blink.
“My name is Valieri,” I told the snake, pressing my hand to my chest. “Me, Valieri. Now what am I supposed to call you?” I asked.
The snake watched my movements closely, nudging his nose against the spot where I’d pressed my hand. I could tell he was curious, so maybe he would learn quickly. His little mouth opened and closed, opened and closed. Little hissing noises came out, but I didn’t speak snake.
“This is going to take some getting used to.”
Then I heard the hissing noise again, like the sound of dead leaves rubbing together in the wind, but quieter than it had been the previous night. The snake’s mouth wasn’t moving, but he continued to stare at me.
“Relax your body and calm your mind. She will not hurt you. She is trying to tell you something. Listen.”
I remembered Sarrenke’s instructions and did my best to comply. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fact that I was afraid of snakes and currently had one sitting in my lap. I calmed my frightened thoughts and focused only on the small creature, my new companion.
“Sss-eev…”
“Seven?” I asked. “Your name is Seven, like the number?”
The snake shook his head. “Sss-aavv…Saavvee…Saaaveeenn.”
“Saven?”
The snake nodded his head. He nudged his snout against my chest again. “Saven.”
“No,” I said. “Valieri.” I pressed my hand to my chest. “You are Saven.” I pressed my fingers against his abdomen.
“Valieri.” He pressed his nose to my chest. “Saven.” He pressed the tip of his tail to his side.
I laughed and nodded. “Yes, that is correct.” Okay, I had to admit this particular snake was pretty cute.
“How can you understand me, Saven? Have you lived so close to the Grakkir that you speak human language too?”
The snake tilted his head, perhaps not completely understanding. Maybe he had learned some of my language from his mother, the Goddess of Snakes, but it was clear he didn’t understand everything I was saying. If his mother could learn, then he could probably learn too. Khero had learned the Grakkir language as well as mine, but he must have been much older than Saven was.
“We’ll work on it,” I told Saven. “You’ll be fluent in no time. I wonder if you can learn the Grakkir language too? Perhaps faster than I can.”
He opened and closed his mouth again, hissing. Perhaps he was trying to speak to me in his snake language, but I obviously didn’t know how to respond. I assumed his language would be much more difficult to learn.
My stomach grumbled loudly, startling both of us. Saven tilted his head and flicked his tongue at the source of the noise. “Hungry,” I told him, rubbing my stomach.
He looked up at me, then slowly slithered off my lap and disappeared behind a pile of buckets and baskets in the opposite corner. A moment later I heard I high-pitched squeak.
“Saven?” I asked, worried. I hopped up and shoved items aside and gasped in surprise. Saven had captured a mouse. His muscled body curled around the rodent, squeezing the life out of it.
I always knew how snakes killed their prey. Some squeezed them to death, others injected them with venom. However, this was my first time watching a snake kill something. I honestly felt sorry for the tiny mouse, which flailed once or twice, then became still in Saven’s killer grasp.
“It’s just part of the food chain,” my mother would have said if she were there. “Every creature is either predator or prey to something else, and each link in the chain is equally important. Without one, the entire chain begins to fall apart.”
“Who is our predator?” I asked her as a child.
“Nothing,” Jenassa chimed in, smiling proudly. “We’re at top of the food chain.”
No, I thought now. The City is at the top of the food chain.
I looked down as Saven slithered out from behind the buckets, holding the mouse tightly in his mouth. He reared up and held the mouse out to me. He was trying to feed it to me.
“I don’t eat mice,” I told him.
Still he held the dead mouse up to me, not understanding. I found it interesting, though. All I’d said was that I was hungry, and he immediately went and caught me some food. That kind of obedience was rare in the most devoted dog, let alone a snake I’d only known for several hours.
To humor him, I took the mouse from him, and he stared up at me proudly. I wondered if there was some way we could cook it so I wouldn’t disrespect Saven’s good intentions.
At that moment, the tent flap opened and Sarrenke entered, alert and eager for the day, as always. “Have you two been bonding?” she asked.
I grinned. “I suppose you could call it that.”
Saven slithered across my feet, making me jump, and eyed Sarrenke curiously, flicking his tongue at her.
Sarrenke crouched in front of him. “Hello, little friend. What is your name?”
“Saven,” I told her.
“It is my pleasure to meet you, Saven.”
Saven glanced up at me, perhaps wondering if this woman was to be treated as a friend or foe. “She is our friend,” I told him.
Saven reached up between Sarrenke’s arms
and pressed his nose to her chest. “What does that mean?” she asked, looking up at me.
“I think he wants to know your name, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it. Watch,” I told her.
I knelt beside the two of them and pressed my hand to my chest. “Valieri.” I pressed my fingers to Saven’s abdomen and said, “Saven.” Then I set my hand on Sarrenke’s shoulder. “Sarrenke.”
Saven reached up and pressed his nose to Sarrenke’s arm. “Sarrenke,” he said.
“Exactly. But you don’t need to touch someone to ask for their name. Just say, ‘What is your name?’”
Saven tilted his head again, signaling he didn’t understand.
“Watch,” I told him, pointing to my eyes. “Watch.” I turned to Sarrenke. “What is your name?”
“Sarrenke,” she said. “My name is Sarrenke.”
“Now you,” I told Saven.
He stumbled over the words at first, but eventually he asked me, “What is your name?”
“My name is Valieri,” I said. “Good job.” I gently stroked his head with my fingers, a feeling of pride seeping into me. Then I realized what I was doing. I was proudly petting a snake because it was learning my language. The absurdity of the situation was almost overwhelming.
“You are getting accustomed to communicating with him in your mind?” Sarrenke asked me.
“Yes. Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it.”
“Just remember that no one else can hear what you are hearing. The Grakkir are used to seeing humans communicate with their god companions, but there are times when you might not want to make it obvious.”
I remembered the times I saw Tarek and Khero share a long glance. They really had been communicating with each other. They didn’t need to hide it from me because they knew I wouldn’t understand what I was seeing.
“Is it possible for someone to understand another person’s god companion?” I asked. “Did Ysolda understand what the bat was saying?”
“No,” Sarrenke said. “Only you will be able to understand Saven, just as only Tarek can understand Khero. The bond between a god and his human is only breakable through death. Ysolda didn’t know what the bat was saying, but she realized something within you was causing her to act that way. It must be the same power that the snake goddess recognized in you.”
I could hardly fathom everything that had happened within the last several hours. My mind was reeling, I was hungry, and I still had a dead mouse in my hand. “I think it will take some time to understand all of this,” I said.
“Yes, that it true,” Sarrenke said with a chuckle. “For my people, it is relatively normal. As an outsider, you must be very confused. Perhaps some breakfast will help.”
✽ ✽ ✽
We stepped out into the pale light of morning, Saven wrapped around my neck like an attentive, curious necklace, much looser and tolerable than the leather collar.
“Ria!” Sarrenke exclaimed. “What are you doing out here alone?”
If Sarrenke hadn’t said anything, I would have walked right past the tiny woman hiding in the shadow of the house. I froze and looked at her childlike face, realizing that she wasn’t the powerful Warrior-ess I had pictured.
Thin black hair barely brushed her shoulders, and dark eyes with even darker circles under them watched me curiously. She was all thin limbs and pale skin, except for a huge, round belly I hadn’t been able to see when I caught her peeking out the window.
When she spoke, her voice was small and breathy, labored from the effort of carrying the extra weight of a baby. Saven looked up at me, no doubt concerned as feelings of shock ebbed out of me.
Sarrenke tsked her tongue. “She said she heard about the Snake Goddess from Tarek and wanted to see your new companion for herself.”
Of course Sarrenke had to tell Tarek about my encounter. It wasn’t something I’d be able to hide for very long anyway, but my heart thumped when I thought about his reaction to the news. It was likely he would be furious that I went off into the forest on my own.
“Where is he?” I asked, as though expecting him to stomp around the corner of the house, axe held high.
“He went into the forest with Khero,” Sarrenke said.
Ria stepped over to me, supporting her engorged stomach with her hand. She was so close to me that I tensed up, afraid we’d brush up against each other. She didn’t seem to notice, however, because her eyes were fixed on Saven.
The little snake watched her closely, his tongue flicking, trying to decide whether she was friend or foe. Ria looked up at me and smiled, her entire face transforming into that of a lively, healthy young woman. She said something to me, but I had to look at Sarrenke for a translation.
“She says the little snake god is very cute,” Sarrenke responded. “But soon he will be too big to carry around your neck.”
Ria reached out her small hand, but Saven leaned away from it uncertainly. I didn’t reprimand him or make any attempt to assure him that she was a friend. I knew too little about her to make that assumption. There was something about her sickly pale face that spoke of innocence and naiveté, and so I found it difficult to be angry at her for standing so close to me.
“Ria!”
Tarek’s voice barked from the other side of the field, startling all of us. He kicked Zani to a gallop and Khero sprinted alongside the horse. Tarek jumped to the ground and his huge arm collided with my chest like a tree branch, sending me sprawling to my back and knocking the wind out of me.
Ria spoke quickly to Tarek in her frail voice, perhaps assuring him that she was not harmed. Saven crawled onto my stomach and rose onto his tail, hissing at Tarek. The fearlessness of the puny snake was almost comical as he attempted to defend me from someone ten times his own size, in sight of a much older, larger god. Khero growled in response, but I sensed he didn’t think Saven was a threat.
Tarek stared down at Saven, his eyes darting from the snake to me and back again. Undoubtedly, he was astounded that a young Fiero slave would somehow have a god companion at her side. I wondered, as I looked up at him and tried to catch my breath, what the consequences would be. Did outsiders ever encounter animal gods, or was I the first? Tarek’s expression suggested the latter.
“Go,” Tarek told Ria. “Inside.” He looked at Sarrenke and nodded his head towards the house. On cue, Sarrenke took Ria by the arm and led her gently into the house. Ria glanced over her shoulder at me, frowning.
Tarek crouched over me, watching Saven as Saven watched him. The little snake continued to hiss, weaving his head back and forth. Khero stood at my side, sniffing the air above the snake curiously.
“God?” Tarek pointed at Saven.
“Yes,” I said in his language, nodding.
Tarek’s jaw clenched, and an odd expression washed over his face. Perhaps he seemed a little jealous or annoyed, or maybe he couldn’t understand why the Snake Goddess would bless me, of all people. I wondered the exact same thing.
Tarek looked at Khero for a while, and I knew they were communicating in the same way I could communicate with Saven. Their expressions didn’t betray their thoughts, as usual.
Without another word, Tarek rose to his feet and took Zani’s reins in his hands. He brushed past Sarrenke as she stepped outside and said something to her about Ria. Why was he so adamant about not letting the poor girl outside? Was he afraid she’d run away in the same way he was afraid I’d run away?
Sarrenke frowned but said nothing to Tarek in response. She stood aside as Khero followed Tarek to the horse’s pen, and then she finally looked down at me.
I sat up, and Saven quickly nudged my chest where Tarek had hit me. “I’m fine,” I assured them.
“Angry man,” Saven observed.
“Yes,” I told him. “He is my master.”
Saven cocked his head, showing confusion.
“I’m a slave,” I said aloud. “He owns me the way a human owns a dog.”
I spat the words, and my eyes filled with
tears of frustration. I looked at Sarrenke. “Will they take Saven away from me?”
She shook her head. “No one has the authority to do that. No human may ever try to overrule the gods’ decisions.”
I felt relief wash over me. Though I was still a slave and my home was destroyed, having a companion that no one could ever take away made me feel a little better about my circumstances.
We went into the house and started cooking breakfast. Tarek glared at me when he entered the house, but once he went into his room he didn’t come out to eat, and so Sarrenke brought food to the door. Khero sat in the small hallway, nearly filling the entire space, and watched me as I tried to sneak a glimpse of the frail girl. Tarek sat on the edge of her small bed, which she barely filled. I noticed a second bed on the opposite side of the room. I thought it strange that they slept in separate beds, but perhaps that was a custom in their culture. When Khero gave a short, low growl, I left the house and waited outside.
Ria didn’t finish all the food we brought her, and I wondered if it was her scraps I had been eating when I first became a captive.
✽ ✽ ✽
“How old is Ria?” I asked Sarrenke later that evening as we scrubbed laundry at the stream. Saven slithered up and down the bank, taking in his surroundings like a fascinated toddler.
Sarrenke looked thoughtful for a moment, as though she hadn’t really thought about it in a long time. “She is sixteen years old.”
She was only slightly younger than me, but she looked remarkably childlike. “Is it common for girls that young to marry in your culture?”
“Normally they are a little older, but there are exceptions. Ria was the last daughter of an ailing friend. Tarek took her in to help his friend and to gain some status within the clan. A sickly girl from a nearly extinct family line is not the ideal wife, but the Shunned cannot be picky.” She dropped her voice even further, frowning. “The poor girl may not survive the birth.”
I stared at her, unable to hide my displeasure. In the Fiero clan, no one married before they were eighteen. Why would a man take a weak young girl as a wife and impregnate her only for her to die? Was it stupidity and selfishness on Tarek’s part, or had he truly been trying to help?
