Serpentine

by Cindy Pon

  “What do they say?” she asked. Skybright loathed the deep, grating tones of her new voice.

  “Show yourself true,” Stone replied. His large hand held her wrist lightly, as if afraid he might cause her pain. But despite his soft touch, she still felt the strong heat of him. She imagined that his core was molten lava, just like the view she had glimpsed into the rift of the underworld. “I cannot heal this,” Stone said. “It is a spell. But the enchantment will wear off once the wound closes. You will be able to shift back into your human form then.” The immortal cursed. “I should have tossed Wu into the breach anyway, for inflicting this upon you.”

  He was kneeling before her, on one bended knee. A clean cloth soaked in something astringent materialized in his hand, and Stone began cleaning the blood from her cuts. Skybright held herself still, not wanting to show how much it stung. His concern seemed genuine, but it didn’t ease her distrust. He could afford to be kind now that he held her captive.

  “What was that display back there?” she asked, feeling combative and wishing to get a rise from him.

  “Display?” The single word resonated between them.

  “You reminded me of a rooster strutting among hens,” Skybright grated out.

  Stone paused mid-swipe over her tingling skin. One corner of his mouth tilted upwards. “You must remind mortals of their place,” he said.

  “You don’t like Kai Sen very much.”

  He took his time running the soft material over her cuts, shaking the cloth so that the blood would magically vanish from it and become soaked again with fresh medicine. Whatever Stone was using might have stung her nostrils, but its coolness now soothed her wounds. “I suppose I do not,” he finally replied. “He would have let you die in that cage, Skybright. It is unforgiveable. You are a rarity among demon kind.”

  His words burned more than the cuts, and it took all her willpower not to wrench away from him, to scream in anger and grief. The characters were rising like welts now, after he had cleansed the blood away.

  “You must let me follow them,” she said.

  He laughed under his breath. “You promised to relinquish your mortal life then demand that I let you chase after those humans like an abandoned dog? I warned that you would never see them again, Skybright. They are no longer part of your life.”

  “I need to make certain that they’re safe.” A sob threatened to rise, but she swallowed it. She had sacrificed her old life, her ordinary life, to save Zhen Ni and Kai Sen. What was the use in mourning it? Besides, the tears would never come, trapped as she was in demonic form.

  “The breach is closed. And your false monk is taking your mistress to her lover. Nothing will harm them.” He began applying a salve to the cuts, with as much expertise as Nanny Bai ever did. “You will never again have to be a servile handmaid. It was beneath you.”

  She barely heard him in her agitation. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.” The words came out even gruffer than before. “You should have given me that.”

  “I owe you no favors. Would you really have wanted to speak with your mistress as your demonic self?” Stone stood, and she lifted high on her serpent body, so that their eyes were level. She may be shorter than him as a girl, but never while she was a serpent. “Give your lover another kiss?”

  If he were mortal, she would have known he was being cruel. But as in so many instances with Stone, she didn’t know for certain his true intent. “He’s no longer my lover,” she said, her throat constricted over the words.

  “Not anymore. No.” The immortal spoke with such quiet finality that she turned from him, hiding her burning face.

  “Why did you do it?” She rasped through her thick veil of hair. The careful arrangement and pinning of her locks had come loose long ago. “Let me save their lives?”

  “Because I knew you would agree to this in exchange,” Stone replied.

  “But why? What do you want with me?” She began twisting her hair as a distraction, trying to still the tremor in her arms.

  Stone handed her hair pins, gold ones bejeweled with rubies and studded with exquisite jade, ornaments he pulled from thin air. “I have a debt to pay,” he said.

  Skybright jerked her head up.

  “Your mother tried to reach me when she became pregnant with you.” His expression was as unreadable as ever, but his features were softened by the silver glow that illuminated him. He appeared more human than she had ever seen him. “I was occupied. I did not know the circumstances of her … distress. You were—you are—an impossibility, Skybright. I thought nothing of her request. Time stretches long for an immortal. I believed I could go to her in a few years time, be of aid when I was less busy. I was wrong.”

  Skybright imagined Opal, a demon centuries old, suddenly with child. An impossibility. How confused and frightened she must have been, perhaps for the first time in her life. How desperate.

  “Do you know who my father is?” she asked.

  “Human, I am certain, by the looks of you. No doubt a victim of your mother’s. I never knew Opal to take a lover solely for pleasure.”

  Her demonic mother dead from giving birth to her. Her mortal father murdered by her own mother after a single tryst. Skybright felt hysterical laughter bubble in her throat, and stabbed her nails into her arms to quell it. “But how? If I’m meant to be an impossibility.”

  “Our worlds are filled with anomalies,” he said. “Perhaps you are what the mortals like to call a miracle—a demonic one. Or perhaps your mother crossed a higher deity, and the immortal wanted to teach her a lesson. I have no answer for you.” Stone took a long stride to close the distance between them. “But Opal was a good friend and ally to me through many centuries. You have lived as a mortal for sixteen years, Skybright. I owe it to your mother to show you what it means to be a serpent demon.”

  Temptress, seductress, and murderer.

  Would this be her life now? Would Stone force it upon her?

  Feeling trapped, she veered from him, unwilling to contemplate her endless future. “Where are we?” she asked. She slithered to the wall and ran her fingertips along it, feeling rough bark. Lifting her chin, she saw that the hollow trunk thrusted high above them, but a small opening at the top revealed the night sky, speckled with stars. There was nobody, god or mortal, within leagues of them.

  “At one of my favorite places in your realm,” Stone replied. “Nowhere of importance.”

  Skybright slid along the edge of the entire circle, trailing her hand against the ancient trunk. “One thing I don’t understand—if the breach was at the base of Tian Kuan mountain, why did the demon attacks begin near the top?”

  “Once the demons emerged from the breach, we were able to send them all across the kingdom through portals. The Great Battle always begins near the monasteries. It was what the monks were trained for, what gives them purpose and glory. The mortal sacrifice is a ritual that only Abbot Wu and his chosen successor would have witnessed, as agreed in the covenant.”

  Had Abbot Wu groomed Kai Sen to be his successor all these years? As the special one?

  No moonlight filtered into the ancient hollow of the tree; the only light came from Stone himself. Skybright studied the immortal, standing tall, arms hanging loose at his sides. Majestic. She knew what he was capable of now, in an instant, with one small twist of his hand. “Thank you, Stone,” she said, and touched her injured arm. “For this. And for saving me … from the abbot.” Although he seemed to answer all her questions candidly, Skybright was still uncertain of Stone’s true motives. It was better to remain in his good graces, to bide her time.

  He smiled, and his expression was almost wistful. The feeling dissipated as soon as the curve of his mouth did. “I cannot let you track your mortal friends. But I may be able to offer you something else. It is something I have seen your mother do.”

  Her heart leaped.

  Stone dropped gracefully to his knees and a bronze bowl manifested on th
e earthen floor. The immortal’s silver glow gleamed off its smooth surface. He glanced into the bowl. Curious, Skybright slid closer to him. What did he see? The bowl was filled with water, reflecting nothing but Stone’s glimmering face. “You think of what you wish to see, and it will appear for you,” he said, moving aside.

  Disbelieving, Skybright bent forward, peering into the bowl. She thought of her mistress and Kai Sen, closed her eyes and pictured them in her mind, then swallowed the lump rising in her throat. Skybright opened her eyes but the water reflected nothing back at her, not even her own image—she didn’t glow as Stone did. She tried again, holding the image of these two people she loved, but kept her eyes wide open this time.

  After a long moment, Stone leaned in, and her senses filled with his vibrant earthen scent. His shoulder pressed against hers, and she was aware of her own nakedness in a way that she hadn’t been in a long time. He appeared armored, as he always was, but it wasn’t cold metal she felt against her skin; it was the soft fabric of a tunic. Her heart began beating so fast that she felt faint, and she shook her head to dispel it. “It did not work,” Stone said, more to himself than as a question directed at her, oblivious of his effect on her. “Opal was fully immortal. It may be your mortal half that is hindering the spell.” He stared into the water, so close that if he turned his face, he could kiss her shoulder. Skybright swallowed and didn’t move.

  “Give me your hand,” he finally said, and she extended her uninjured arm. He pricked her index finger, and one drop of her blood fell into the water. “Try again.” And he shifted from her. The tension in her chest eased, and she was able to breathe again.

  Skybright bent her head over the water, and almost jolted back when she saw Kai Sen and Zhen Ni’s image cradled within the bowl.

  Kai Sen and Zhen Ni stood in a narrow alley in front of a wooden door set in mud-colored walls. One faded paper door god was plastered on the door, its edges curling with age. They were dressed in the same clothes as when Skybright had last seen them, although both Zhen Ni and Kai Sen must have taken the opportunity to wash up. They seemed weary, but less travel worn.

  “You’re certain this was the manor where Lan told you she lived?” Kai Sen asked.

  Skybright let out a low hiss, leaning in closer to the bronze bowl. She could hear Kai Sen speak as clearly as if she stood beside him.

  Her mistress shifted on her feet, wringing her hands, her impatience so obvious Skybright imagined she could taste it on her tongue. “Yes, I’d memorized it.”

  Kai Sen nodded then raised his fist to pound on the door. They waited long moments before it was pulled open by Lan’s mother, Lady Fei. They truly were much lower in stature than the Yuans, if Lady Fei was answering the outer door herself. It wasn’t a task that even Skybright had ever tended to.

  “Zhen Ni!” Lady Fei exclaimed. She was dressed in a simple peach tunic and trousers, unadorned with decorations. “What an unexpected surprise.” She gave Kai Sen a sidelong glance, and the corners of her rosebud mouth pulled down in a frown. “Is everything all right?’

  “Lady Fei, I apologize for not sending notice that I would be visiting.” Zhen Ni gripped her hands so, Skybright knew, she could still them. “No one has come from the Yuan manor before me?”

  “No,” Lady Fei said. “No one.”

  So the search group led by the head servant, Golden Sparrow, never arrived. Skybright watched her mistress in the reflected water, and felt the same sense of foreboding Zhen Ni did. Nothing good could have come to the group, when they had traveled while the breach to the underworld was still open.

  “I see,” Zhen Ni replied. Skybright could tell by the way her lips pursed a touch that she was thinking quickly, trying to gather herself. “Kai Sen was sent as my escort on this journey. He’s training to be a monk and is a close family friend.”

  Kai Sen gave a formal bow, but not before Skybright caught the amused expression on his face.

  “Welcome, Kai Sen,” Lady Fei dipped her chin. “But why are you here, Zhen Ni?”

  “I’ve come to visit Lan!” Zhen Ni’s words were pitched too high, and she cleared her throat. “Is Lan here?”

  Lady Fei’s thin eyebrows lifted in surprise. “She is. Lan was so upset when she was sent back home early. I hope it wasn’t over something she did? Your mother gave little in way of explanation.”

  So Lady Fei didn’t know.

  “No, not at all,” Zhen Ni lied. “I was truly sorry to see her leave, too. I’ve missed her companionship so.”

  “Lan will be so pleased—Lan!”

  Lan pushed her way from behind Lady Yuan, cheeks flushed pink as a peony. “Zhen Ni,” she cried, before throwing her arms around Zhen Ni’s neck. Her mistress laughed and hugged the girl back.

  “Come in, come in,” Lady Fei pulled the narrow door open, waving for Kai Sen and Zhen Ni to enter the modest courtyard. She turned away from the girls and walked down the stone path. “We were just sitting down for our midday meal.” Her voice was faint.

  In that moment, Zhen Ni leaned forward to kiss Lan full on her lips, and Skybright almost laughed aloud before throwing a hand over her mouth. It was just like her mistress, Skybright thought, to be so bold. Lan melted into Zhen Ni, fingers gripping the dirty collar of her mistress’s tunic, kissing fervently, as if she couldn’t bear to ever let Zhen Ni go.

  Skybright felt her own heart swell for her mistress, and the pain of losing Kai Sen for the first time. She hadn’t let herself think about it, but Zhen Ni and Lan’s reunion brought it achingly to the forefront of her mind.

  Kai Sen had already vanished down the path, following Lady Fei. Skybright urged the scene to shift to him. Instead, the water within the bowl rippled, as if a pebble had been dropped into it, and the image dissipated, before reforming again.

  Zhen Ni and Kai Sen sat in front of a camp fire, surrounded by pine trees towering like wraiths. Her mistress’s eyes were red-rimmed, as if she had been crying. Skybright crouched closer to the bowl, wanting to comfort Zhen Ni, even though she didn’t know what had upset her.

  It was evening, and the fire cast leaping shadows on her mistress’s face. Zhen Ni sat clutching a travel blanket around her shoulders—Skybright’s own. She buried her face in the material for a moment, taking a deep breath. “This smells of her. Skybright’s always smelled like—”

  “The forest,” Kai Sen said.

  Her mistress lifted her face and smiled. “In springtime. When everything’s in bloom and fragrant.”

  He nodded and cleared his throat, then picked up a stick to shift the wood within the fire, just for something to do.

  “I didn’t notice it. We were together so much—her scent was always there.” Zhen Ni rubbed her eyes against the blanket. “I didn’t notice until we were separated. Then she found me, and I hugged her and—” She faltered. “It wasn’t until then I realized. And it felt like I was home again.” Her soft features suddenly tensed. “You don’t think Skybright is … like them?”

  Like them, Skybright thought. Like all the other demons Kai had slain.

  Evil.

  Kai Sen’s dark eyebrows furrowed, and his hand rose unconsciously to touch where his birthmark had been. “Of course not. You know Skybright better than anyone. She’s still the same girl you grew up with.”

  “Is she?” Zhen Ni spoke so softly that Skybright had to read her lips. The uncertainty in her mistress’s face felt as if someone were pounding Skybright’s chest with a hard fist. “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” her mistress finally said. “How do you know?”

  “I can feel it.” He pressed a hand against his heart. “Here.”

  Zhen Ni wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, and she and Kai Sen stared at each other until her mistress bowed her head. “I wish I could feel as certain as you do. I think the fact that I did know her better than anyone—was supposed to know her better than anyone—is what makes this hurt the most.” She swiped her cheek with one
hand, as if she could scrub the thoughts away. “But in the end, it’s like I never knew her at all.”

  “That’s not true,” Kai Sen said. “I’ve had longer to accept the idea of Skybright’s true nature. That’s all.”

  Her mistress nodded, and Skybright suddenly caught herself. How could Zhen Ni still be her mistress when she was no longer her handmaid? Skybright blinked at the bright image of Kai Sen and Zhen Ni huddled before the fire. It only emphasized how much of an outcast she had become—spying on them from afar through magic, trapped in her demon form. She no longer belonged there, with them.

  “Perhaps,” Zhen Ni said. “I’m sorry I never got the chance to say goodbye. To hear her explain things to me herself.” She rested her chin against her folded arms. “Thank you, for offering to take my place, Kai Sen.”

  “It was the right thing to do.” Embarrassed, he turned away and began rummaging through his knapsack. “I was told by Abbot Wu after the breach closed that he wanted me to be his heir. That this was an honor. I was meant to witness the sacrifice.” Kai Sen gave a slight shake of his head, and his hair fell across his brow. Skybright wanted to reach through the water, to brush it back, like she used to. “It didn’t seem right. It didn’t feel right, that he was willing to sacrifice an innocent life because of some age-old covenant. None of the other monks even know the truth.” He cleared his throat. “Here, eat something,” he said, passing her a wedge of sesame flatbread rolled with slices of stewed beef.

  Skybright could smell it.

  Zhen Ni smiled and extended her hand to accept the food. “You sound like Skybright.” Her mistress took a few bites, and she and Kai Sen ate in silence for a while. “She told you her secret, but not me.”

  He wiped his hands on a cloth. “I found out by accident. And to think she believes now that I had abandoned her in that cage on purpose.” His face hardened. “I swear I never would have if I’d known it was truly her. I’d been fighting monsters every night for weeks, and what kept me going, what kept me alive, was the image of her in my mind. When I first saw her as a serpent demon—when I almost killed her—” Kai Sen threw a rock with a swift furious motion into the dark forest—a motion that was entirely different from the young man who had shown Skybright how to skip stones across the water. Who had told her with a grin that he enjoyed jumping as a pastime. “I wasn’t able to grasp it, to accept it. Now she may never know how much I love her.”