Serpentine

by Cindy Pon

  “So I have heard,” Stone replied, a hint of a smile on his sensuous mouth. Skybright wanted to seize him by the shoulders and shake hard, rattle everything he knew from him, wipe that aloof impassiveness from his handsome face. The immortal stirred a tumult of warring emotions within her—awe mingled with fear, desire with mistrust. Stone’s dark eyebrows lifted, as if he had read her thoughts. “It is because your mother led them in our last Great Battle.”

  The blood drained from her face. “What do you mean?”

  “Opal commanded the undead the last time there was a rift between the mortal realm and the underworld. She led them well. The undead risen this time must have recognized her in you in their collective minds, and turned to you for guidance. What did you have them do?”

  “I sent them back to their graves. Or told them to dig a hole and climb into it.”

  Stone threw his head back and laughed. “That is not a command your mother would ever have issued.”

  Frustrated and confused, she wrenched her body away from him, resisted the urge to stomp her feet. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You did not ask.”

  She would have thought he was mocking her further, but his black eyes were widened in genuine surprise. “Of course I would have wanted to know!” Was he truly that dense? “And why are you laughing that I sent them away? You said when we first met that I should be on your side. Well, I’m not. I fight for the monks.” Skybright tilted her chin. She’d like to see Stone laugh at that.

  Stone jumped from the rock in one swift motion, landing noiselessly. “I have offended you somehow.” He swept his arm in an arc and the circular alcove she had slept in filled with silver light. “You do not get to choose whose side you are on, Skybright.” Stone pointed to the ground on her left and tiny, bright images of people emerged from the earth, wearing straw hats and tilling fields, dressed in finery and lighting incense for the gods. Dozens of them, all going about their daily lives, swarming like ants. “You are either human,” he nodded to the ground to her right “or not.” Other tiny images of bright beings sprang from the earth there: demons who were part human and part beast, beautiful gods taller than the others, their every movement touched with impossible grace.

  With a turn of Stone’s hand, Skybright was suddenly clothed in a luxurious brocaded dress of deep purple, in a design that was centuries out of style. Gold and jade bracelets adorned her wrists; her fingers seemed to be filled with as many rings. There was no weight to them. Somehow, she knew that this was how her mother had dressed once long ago. “And you are not human, Skybright,” Stone said. He flicked his fingers and her serpent length stretched out behind her, the crimson scales covering her torso glittering in the silver light. “You are one of us.”

  Skybright folded her arms, trying not to show her discomfort, to feel the blanket around her and her bare feet in the dirt, but appear as a serpent from Stone’s illusions. “But why aren’t you angry that I don’t fight for the underworld?”

  Stone stepped closer, bringing with him the rich scent of wet earth. The alcove dimmed, and all the illusions he had conjured dissipated. “You say that you fight for the monks. But can you fight with them?”

  Skybright stood her ground and gritted her teeth. She wanted more than anything to retreat, to increase the distance between herself and the immortal. But she refused to show him any weakness.

  “In the end, it does not matter who you kill or who you send to their graves. The Great Battle would have served its purpose, as it always does.”

  “What’s The Great Battle?” she asked.

  “Every five centuries or so, the gates between the underworld and the mortal realm are breached. It has happened for as long as I can remember, and my memory is long—an age-old agreement between the gods and mortals.”

  “But why? No mortal would agree to this.”

  “Wouldn’t they?” A wooden stick materialized in Stone’s hand, and he sketched a spiral on the ground that rose like a loosely coiled ribbon. The line shone silver in the dirt. “Human lives are cyclical, as is the rise and fall of civilizations. We exist to remind them of their mortality. Their frailty. The underworld, and the demons and hell lords that dwell there, are a caution for humans to be good, to do good, lest they be harshly judged when it is their turn to stand before the Mirror of Retribution. Mortals are born with many foibles, but their worst are probably their short memories and their tendency toward hubris. After a few hundred years, their prayers become rote, and their belief in the gods, in us, dim within their hearts. Nothing short of catastrophe, such as the breach in the underworld, can set them right again.” He followed the glowing spiral with the tip of the stick. “And so entire civilizations rise and fall with the consciousness of its people. As gods we have to discipline them, as a parent would a petulant or willful child.”

  She stared at the silver loops etched in the ground, trying to grasp everything that Stone had said. His lecture, spoken in a detached tone, showed no interest in anything except for the facts. She suddenly thought of Zhen Ni’s expressive eyes, remembered Kai Sen’s unrestrained laugh and was struck by their frailty, by the brevity of human lives. “It seems a poor bargain for the mortals, to be subjugated through fear,” Skybright said. “I can’t believe that anyone would agree to this.”

  “It is true, we could do as we please without mortal intervention, but what we have arranged with the monks works well.”

  “The monks … ?” Her voice trailed off, for her heart had risen into her throat.

  Stone scratched away what he had drawn on the dirt. “Only one abbot knows. Our covenant has been passed down from the first abbot to his successor, and then the next, for almost two millennia. The monks are trained and fight valiantly, as they should. The people are warned, and we send enough creatures from the underworld to roam the lands to be seen. Those who are unfortunate die, but it is a necessary consequence, and not a tremendous loss for what is gained. The mortals pray again, with conviction, and give to the gods. They are reminded of how things are—of their place in the world.” He leaned closer, and Skybright could feel the heat radiating from him. “So you understand now, how it matters very little what your actions are? Our show was set in place ages ago, and this is just another repeat performance.”

  Skybright began pacing, if only to put some distance between Stone and herself. She was drawn to him by compulsion. If her feelings for Kai Sen brought to mind a warm embrace, then they were a hard tug with Stone. Her head ached with everything that Stone had told her. What did all this mean, and what was her place within it? She was starving and her limbs were sore, and she cursed her human form for all its demands. Stone tracked her erratic marching the entire time, his gaze like a physical touch.

  Finally she paused to stand before him. “Why would my mistress be abducted by a demon then? Was it simply bad luck?”

  “Was she wandering alone outside of town?” he asked.

  “No. She was with me, in an empty town that had been attacked by the undead. I tried to save her, but the demon disappeared into the air.” Skybright bit her lip hard when she heard the rising panic in her voice.

  Stone stiffened, standing even taller, if that were possible. “The demon stepped through a portal? Could you glimpse the other side?”

  “No. The tear glowed red, but closed before I could see anything.” She clenched her fists. “Do you know where she is?” She was beyond caring that she might be indebted to him. Too many days had passed. What horrors was Zhen Ni suffering? “Please, Stone. I have to find her.”

  He shook his head. “I feel no connection with mortals and would not be able to locate her with ease. I can send my informants to search for her. You are using your tracking abilities?”

  So he was aware of that. Skybright wondered what else he knew about serpent demons that she hadn’t even discovered herself.

  “I found her once that way. But have had no luck this time. I’ve been wandering for
days.”

  “But you still sense her?” he asked.

  “I can.”

  “She is alive then. Don’t lose that connection. Focus and you will find her soon. Few demons have the gift of tracking as serpent demons do.” Stone scanned the horizon; the sun was beginning to rise, suffusing the sky in gold and red. “I must go,” he said. “I stayed longer than I had intended.” He lifted her chin so her head tilted back and she was forced to meet his dark eyes.

  She felt the heat of him against her chest, became light-headed from his vibrant earthen scent. “No,” she said.

  Skybright wanted Stone’s kiss, whether because of his sorcery or her own desire, she didn’t know. She’d never know. Was this how it was for Kai Sen? She swallowed and hardened her features, clearing her mind.

  He smiled, truly amused. “And if I do anyway?”

  “You’d force me?” she challenged. “Would you enjoy that?”

  “You are the one who takes pleasure from it.”

  Were immortals incapable of feeling pleasure? What she had felt in her kiss with Stone wasn’t sexual, but an unanchoring of herself, both liberating and terrifying.

  He leaned in and spoke against her ear, “It is only a kiss, Skybright.”

  “Then what does it matter?” She somehow managed to keep her words even, although her entire body had tensed when she had felt his breath upon her neck.

  Stone straightened and took a step back, but she knew better than to consider it a victory. He was unpredictable, and so difficult to read.

  “It is how I learn more about you,” he said. “But I will respect your wishes and go.”

  She didn’t miss what was implied. He was indulging her, like giving a child a sweet.

  “I will send word if I learn anything about your mistress,” he said, and resting one hand against her shoulder, pressed his lips against her forehead instead.

  The heat of the mark stayed upon her skin long after Stone had disappeared, vanishing like a phantom.

  Morning dawned cold and clear.

  Skybright had washed and dressed after Stone left, then sat on a rock to take in the majestic valley of pines below. The view eased her mind, filled her with a peace that she hadn’t felt in weeks, She let her gaze rest on the dark green of pine needles, and her thoughts wandered. What if her mistress had been dragged down to the underworld itself? She realized after some time that she could feel her faint connection to Zhen Ni, even while in human form—still distant, but there. She had nothing left to eat except for a few pieces of dried beef that she had found at the bottom of her knapsack. Slowly chewing on one, she stood to continue her journey. After more than three days of traveling in her serpent form, Skybright wasn’t ready to shift again. The idea caused her senses to buzz with anxiety. So she walked instead, on weary legs, glad for the feel of her feet in her slippers, and concentrated on the pull of her mistress at her core.

  She walked for two days, downward toward the base of Tian Kuan mountain, foraging in the forest for roots and berries she knew were safe to eat thanks to Nanny Bai’s teachings. Her connection with Zhen Ni grew stronger as she continued to descend toward the valley of pines.

  Skybright was filling her water flask by a creek when she heard voices; she ran into the trees just in time. She leaned into the giant trunk, making sure she was hidden, before peering from behind it. Six monks had appeared from among the pines, walking along the edge of the water. Skybright recognized Kai Sen’s confident lope before she could distinguish his features, and she felt as if she had been knocked flat by the rush of emotions that surged through her. By the familiarity of him. She pulled herself back, drawing deep breaths to try and slow her racing heart, before dashing into the forest, away from the monks.

  Was Kai Sen using his clairvoyance to follow her? But who were the other five monks accompanying him? She knew she shouldn’t linger because she’d give herself away. Kai Sen’s gift in sensing her was too acute and she ran, trying to put distance between them, unable to disperse the memories of their love making as she did so. Finally, not seeing where she was going, she stumbled over a twisted root and crashed to her hands and knees, breathing hard. A branch snapped behind her and she whipped around, feeling dread and hope at once, but there was no one behind her.

  Slowly, she rose to her feet, centering herself so she could touch that connection with Zhen Ni.

  It was growing stronger, the taste bittersweet in the back of her throat. Skybright tugged the knapsacks closer, squaring her shoulders, and continued on her journey.

  Skybright was eating wolfberries, her mouth puckered with the sweet tang of the bright red fruit, when she heard voices in the distance again. She had been considering shifting into serpent form after harvesting enough of the berries, but the monks’ proximity decided it for her. After tying the wolfberries in a handkerchief and stuffing it into her knapsack, she began to undress so she could shift, only to freeze when Kai Sen pushed his way from between the foliage.

  “You need to stop doing that,” she croaked, re-clasping the button she had been undoing on her tunic. She hadn’t spoken in days, not since seeing Stone. And while she had hummed softly during her journey, she had been too afraid to draw attention to herself by singing.

  “Why did you leave without saying goodbye?” Kai Sen asked, his voice low.

  It was such a simple question, one that she had no ready answer for. Skybright had not allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to face Kai Sen again, what she would have to say to him. She stood there, mute, and they stared at each other for a long time, the chatter of the other monks drifting to them.

  Finally, she said, “Kai, it was a mistake—”

  “Don’t say that.” He tensed, his stance as rigid as an ancient oak.

  They had not closed the distance between them, and Skybright refused to take a step forward. “You said yourself that you’d give up everything for me, even your vow of celibacy as a monk if you had taken one. It’s because of what I am. You’re compelled to feel this way about me, don’t you see?”

  “You believe me to be so weak, so brainless, that I have no choice but to … to love you?” He stalked a tight circle, his frustration palpable.

  But she couldn’t hear for those few moments, as the blood had roared into her head when he had said love. He finally strode to her, stopping near enough that she could rise on her toes and kiss him. But Skybright held still, red-faced.

  “You’re right. I have no choice, Sky. But it isn’t for the reasons that you think. Is it so hard to believe that I could love you simply for you?” He caressed her cheek and his touch was cool against her skin. “For your laugh? And the way you make me laugh? For your bravery and strength and loyalty? For all that I see in your eyes and the way you look back at me? Is that false and contrived?”

  He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, leaning in, and it took all of her willpower not to give in to his touch, not to tip her head back and surrender to his kiss. “It meant nothing to me,” she forced out, and he froze, so near she smelled his clean scent—lemon soap mingled with camphor wood. Skybright stepped away from him, glaring at the ground strewn with pine needles. What did it matter if their feelings for each other were true? She saw again her forked tongue darting out and the strong urge to turn into a serpent after making love with Kai Sen. There could be no good outcome if he continued to care for her. She needed to end this, even if she had to hurt him to do so. She lifted her chin and looked him in the eyes, before saying with deliberate coldness, “I could make anyone bed me.”

  The color drained from his tanned face, then surged back again, mottling his cheeks. Kai Sen grabbed Skybright by the wrist and pulled her with him. “I won’t let you do this.”

  She scrambled to keep up, until they crashed through the trees into a small clearing. The other five monks sat in a loose circle, talking quietly; all turned to them in shock.

  “Kai Sen, we thought you were only going for
a walk, not collecting lost maidens in the woods,” one of the monks said, and the others broke into nervous laughter.

  “Bao Yu, this is Skybright,” Kai Sen said brusquely. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

  “Pleased to meet you, Skybright.” Bao Yu gave an awkward wave. He appeared to be around twenty years, and was stocky with round eyes set far apart, giving the impression of a surprised calf. Bao Yu kept peering at her face then away, as if embarrassed to look at her fully. Skybright lifted a hand to touch her cheek. Her scar. She must appear like the victim of some tragic accident. “She’s very pretty, Kai Sen,” he replied, then grinned at her shyly. “You’re quite beautiful, mistress.”

  “Wonderful! We’re in agreement then.” Kai Sen pushed her forward a little toward Bao Yu. “Would you like to bed her?”

  A monk behind her choked on whatever he had been drinking, coughing spastically as Bao Yu’s eyes grew even rounder until he looked like the goldfish Zhen Ni kept in a ceramic bowl in her reception hall. “What?” he managed to force out.

  Kai Sen waved a hand up and down beside her, as if showcasing an expensive vase. “Beautiful, right? Do you want to bed her?” he asked again with a wink. “I’ll give you two privacy.”

  Skybright’s face was so hot her ears felt on fire. Finally breaking from her stunned silence, she slapped Kai Sen on the shoulder. “What’re you doing?” she sputtered in a low voice.

  Kai Sen ignored her.

  Bao Yu gathered himself after an uncomfortable pause and said, “I’ve taken a vow of celibacy, Kai Sen. You know that. And stop offending the mistress.”

  “You’re saying no?” Kai Sen exclaimed in mock surprise. “Skybright, did you hear that? He’s refusing you. Go ahead, work your magic.” He crossed his arms and nodded at her, thrusting his chin out as if in challenge.

  “I haven’t taken my celibacy vow yet,” a voice piped up from across the clearing.