Poison's Kiss

by Breeana Shields

  Mani’s lungs were never the same, and I always wondered if things could have been different if only I’d been able to lend him my breath.

  The memory sends a wave of nausea through me, and I bury my head in Mani’s hair and rock him back and forth as if the near drowning happened two minutes instead of two years ago. My hatred for Gopal burns in my stomach like an iron in flame. I have to do the impossible. I have to find a way to protect both Mani and Deven. And I have to do it without bringing Gopal’s wrath down on all of us.

  It won’t be long before Gopal knows that I lied to him. I don’t know if Iyla is his only source of information, but surely whoever told Deven to buy The History of Sundari will know that he bought it, that he was in the bookshop. And that he’s still alive.

  It’s only a matter of time before Gopal sends another visha kanya to finish the job. The thought of Deven dying sends my stomach spinning, but I don’t know how to protect him. Even if I tell him the truth, I can’t tell him who to avoid. I’ve never met the other girls. And he probably wouldn’t believe me even if I did tell him. Poison kisses sound like something out of folklore. He’ll think I’m crazy. I turn it over in my mind all night; it’s a problem with no solution. Except one.

  He would be safe if I could make him immune.

  And that requires a visit to Kadru.

  Mani and I arrive at the market late the next morning. His eyes are wide with wonder. I try to avoid bringing him here when I can—it’s a place too full of painful memories—but this time I had no choice. After yesterday I don’t dare leave him alone in the flat even for a few hours. Gita’s voice pops into my mind. Sometimes none of the options are good ones, Marinda. You just have to make the least bad choice. I hate that her wisdom is following me today, when I am so angry with her. It’s hard for me to reconcile the woman who told me bedtime stories and who taught me to read with the woman who helps Gopal control me. There are two versions of Gita, and my feelings about her are all tangled up.

  Mani tugs on my sleeve. “Look at that!” I turn to see a small monkey on a leash juggling plums. He looks at Mani and smiles with sharp teeth. We keep walking past vendors selling pottery painted in bright colors, herbs meant to cure illness, gems to keep evil spirits away. But we don’t stop until we get to the snake charmer. He sits on a faded brown carpet playing a lively tune on his pungi. A large cobra is coiled in a basket in front of him. The top half of its body protrudes from the basket taut and alert, hood flared. The snake’s bright scales glint in the sunlight as it moves in response to the music. At least that’s how it seems. But most snake charmers are frauds. This snake isn’t mesmerized, only agitated. It lacks the outer ear to hear the music and is simply following the movement of the pungi as if it were a predator. The snake is ready to strike, but the charmer knows he’s in no danger—he has stitched his serpent’s mouth shut, except for a tiny opening just large enough for the tongue to flick in and out. The forked tongue is good for show but harmless. The real danger is in the fangs. I would know.

  I guide Mani past the crowd that has gathered to watch the snake dance. I’m looking for the one snake charmer I know is not a fraud. Her tent is a short walk off the main path, and as it comes into view, my mouth goes dry. The tent is large and dull brown. Flashy colors would attract the attention of the market goers, and Kadru isn’t interested in customers.

  I was four years old the first time Gopal brought me here. The toxin from the droppers had only served to make me immune. It would take something far stronger to make me poisonous. Kadru seemed kind at first. She had big eyes, elaborate hair piled on top of her head, and rings on every finger. She was gentle as she lifted me onto her lap. “Hello, Marinda,” she said. Her voice was almost a purr. “This is a special day and you are a very lucky girl.” She traced a finger along the inside of my arm, down the blue-green vein that curved toward my hand. “Hold very still,” she said, her breath hot against my ear. Her grip on me tightened, and without warning a white snake dropped from somewhere behind her and sank its fangs into my wrist. Hot pain shot through my arm and I screamed, flailed, cried. But her grip on me didn’t loosen until the snake had released me and slithered away. “Shh,” she cooed. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

  After that I wasn’t so stupid. The next time we visited, Kadru had to hold me down.

  A few years later, when I understood what Gopal was trying to accomplish, I begged him to find another way. “What about poison lip balm?” I asked. I knew it existed. I had worn it as a backup in the early days, when the toxin was still weak inside me. “Couldn’t we just use that?”

  He shook his head. “No, rajakumari, the most effective poisons—the deadliest ones—always come from the inside.”

  And so we made ten trips a year for ten years, until I was finally lethal enough to satisfy Gopal. The night before every visit, Iyla and I would sleep in the same bed, our foreheads pressed together, our hands entwined and clasped between us, prayer-like. “You’re not afraid,” she would say, over and over. “You’re not afraid.”

  But I always was.

  The snakes got bigger with each visit, and then they multiplied—two snakes at a time and then three. The last time, four huge white snakes feasted on my wrists and ankles while I screamed until I blacked out.

  It’s been years since I’ve been here, but the visceral reaction in my gut is so familiar that it feels like yesterday. I’m not sure I can do this. But Deven won’t survive if I don’t.

  I kneel in front of Mani. “I want you to go sit underneath that tree,” I tell him. “Don’t move until I come back for you.”

  Mani folds his arms across his chest. “I want to come with you.”

  “No, you really don’t,” I tell him. My voice comes out with a tremble and Mani’s eyes go wide. He doesn’t argue.

  “Will you be very long?”

  “I don’t think so, monkey.” I ruffle his hair and try to pretend a calm that I don’t feel. Mani plops underneath the tree with a book and an apple. I’ve been trying to add more fruit to his diet—I’ve plied him with grapes, mangoes and pears—but it hasn’t given him as much energy as the day Deven gave him the maraka fruit. Gita always says that just because two things happen at the same time doesn’t mean that they’re connected. It was probably just a coincidence that he felt better, and it had nothing to do with eating fruit. But where Mani is concerned, I specialize in false hope.

  I cast one more glance over my shoulder before I approach the tent. There’s no way to knock, so I clear my throat loudly at the entrance.

  Kadru sticks her head through the flap of the tent. “Marinda?” she says. Her voice still sounds like warm honey, all soft and inviting. “It’s been so long. Come in.” I step over the threshold and go rigid. White snakes are everywhere—dangling from bamboo poles, coiled under tables, lounging on the sumptuous furniture. Some of them are small and some are as thick as small tree trunks. I feel as if a giant hand has reached through my chest and squeezed my lungs together. I can’t pull in enough air. My heart is slamming against my rib cage and my whole body has gone cold.

  Kadru laughs. “Oh, darling, relax. They won’t strike unless I tell them to.” But I don’t think I can take another step forward. I feel like I’m five years old again and too small to run. I squeeze my eyes closed. I can do this. I can. I just have to go somewhere else in my mind; it’s the same way I cope after a kill—don’t think about the boy. Don’t think about the snakes.

  I open my eyes and keep my gaze glued to Kadru. She is dressed in white from head to toe. Her bodice is embellished with tiny pearls and small mirrors, and her flowing skirt just brushes the tops of her ankles. Shells are woven through her hair. Her feet and her midriff are both bare. The pale clothing against her dark skin is stunning. She doesn’t look a day older than the first time I saw her. If anything, she is even more beautiful than I remembered.

  “What can I do for you?” Kadru asks. Her expression is a mixture of amusement and curiosity. I try to keep
my gaze on her face, try to ignore the snakes, but I’m still having trouble breathing.

  “I need venom,” I say finally. She laughs.

  “Oh, darling. You’re the last person in the entire kingdom who needs venom. You’re positively overflowing with it.”

  I shake my head. “Not for me.” I suck in a breath. I can’t get out more than a few words at a time. “For someone else. I need to make him immune.”

  She arches her eyebrows. “How interesting. Well, now you have my attention.” She saunters to an oversized chair and sits, tucking her feet underneath her. She snaps her fingers, and a large white snake drops from overhead and slinks its way around her shoulders. She often wears them like scarves. A shiver runs through me.

  “Can you help me?” I ask, though I know she can. She made Gopal immune before she ever made me deadly. Gopal often reminds me that he is dangerous to me, but not the other way around.

  Kadru runs her index finger over her bottom lip like she’s considering. “Venom isn’t cheap.”

  “I have money,” I tell her. And it’s true. I save almost everything Gopal gives me. Her eyes harden and the snake around her shoulders stops moving.

  “You know it’s not money I want.”

  If not money, then what? She must see the confusion on my face because her eyes widen. “Did Gopal never tell you the payment?” She laughs again, but there’s a cruel edge to it. “The old man is even more depraved than I gave him credit for.”

  I think back to all the times I’ve been here before and try to remember a payment ever changing hands or a price ever being discussed, but I don’t remember anything except pain and fear and dread.

  “What is the payment?”

  “Years,” she answers.

  At first I think I’ve misheard her. “Years?” I ask.

  She nods but doesn’t speak.

  “What do you mean? It takes years to make a payment? I have to work for you for years?”

  “Years off your life.”

  I have no response for this. I’m not sure what she means and I can tell from her expression she’s waiting for me to ask. She’s enjoying this.

  “Does ingesting the toxin take years off your life?” I ask. If that’s true…I shudder. I have so much venom running through my veins that I won’t live to see adulthood.

  “Of course not,” Kadru says. She snaps her fingers again and the snake slithers off her shoulders and disappears behind the chair. She walks over to me, slow and catlike, and runs the back of her hand across my cheek. “Gopal would never do anything to shorten your life, darling. Not the way he adores you.” I blink. Gopal doesn’t adore me; he needs me, and that’s not the same thing.

  Kadru leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. “But you may make a different choice if you wish. The price for one vial of venom is five years from your life.”

  This pulls me up short. I can’t imagine what she means. “I don’t understand.”

  She smiles. “How old do you think I am?”

  I haven’t ever thought about this before. Kadru simply was, and I avoided thinking about her whenever possible. But now as I study her face, I realize she has an ageless quality. Her skin is smooth and supple, but she doesn’t exactly look young either. “I’m not sure,” I tell her.

  “The truth is, I’ve lost count. But it’s at least two hundred.”

  I gasp. “But that’s impossible.”

  “I assure you, it’s not. And if you want to save this boy you’ve grown fond of, you’re going to make sure that I live at least five more.” A prickly sensation races up my neck. I haven’t told her about Deven. I never said I’d grown fond of anyone. I feel dizzy and look for somewhere to sit, but the snakes are draped over every surface. I try to swallow my fear.

  “Did you take some of my life each time Gopal brought me here?”

  She sighs as if my question taxes her energy. “Did you not listen, darling? Gopal wouldn’t drain your life. You mean too much to him.” Some of the tension in my shoulders loosens. Thinking of my life being slowly drained away is horrifying. “Of course,” she says, “I didn’t work for free.” My head snaps up and a lazy smile spreads across her face. She reminds me of a cat toying with a mouse before killing it. But I need the toxin, so I’ll play along.

  “You drained Gopal’s life?”

  She snorts. “Gopal would never agree to such a thing. I’m afraid it was someone else’s life in the bargain, but those are his secrets to share.”

  I don’t want to know any of this. Who? Whose life was drained away so that Gopal could turn me into a killer? So many lives already press on my conscience, and now this too. At least this time it will be my own life I give away.

  “I’ll do it,” I say.

  Kadru’s gaze sweeps over me and I try to look brave. “Very well,” she says. “Stay here.”

  She walks toward the back of the tent. “Come, my pet,” she says, touching one of the snakes lightly on the top of its head. The snake turns and looks in my direction like it has understood the entire conversation and disapproves of my choices. Then it slithers to where Kadru waits. She pulls a curtain so I can’t see anything, but I can hear her murmuring gently to the snake. And then she begins to sing. It’s a different language, so I don’t understand any of the words, but her voice is captivating. The music tweaks something inside me, dredges up an aching feeling of sadness, and when the song is over, my cheeks are wet.

  Kadru emerges from behind the curtain with an opaque vial. I reach for it. “Not so fast,” she says. She slides her hand underneath my hair and grips the back of my neck. “First a bit of youth for my trouble.” Her fingernails cut into my skin and I feel a sharp sting followed by an explosion of pain that seems to start in my chest and then radiate to the rest of my body. Black spots rush into my vision, and the last thing I hear is Kadru saying, “Thank you, my pet.” And I don’t know if she’s talking to me or to the snake.

  I wake up after nightfall and my first thought is of Mani. He’s probably frantic—I need to get to him. I sit up too quickly and my stomach pitches forward. I cover my mouth with the back of my hand and try to breathe through my nose. The nausea is only part of it. My head is pounding and I ache all over. A hand closes around my ankle and I yank away, until I see it’s Mani sitting near my feet. His eyes are red and swollen, and his breath is coming in short, panicky gasps. He has walked right into my nightmare. This is the last thing I ever wanted him to see.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask him as I gather him into my arms. My limbs feel heavy and slow. He tries to answer, but he’s crying too hard, and he can only manage a word at a time.

  “I.” Shuddering breath. “Got.” Shuddering breath. “Scared.” He lays his head against my shoulder and I feel like a terrible person. Of course he would come looking for me, and he must have been terrified to find me here, unconscious and surrounded by snakes.

  Kadru is curled up in her chair watching us with an amused expression. I give her a hard look and she shrugs. “I offered him something to drink, but he declined.” As if I thought her lack of hospitality was the problem. My legs wobble as I stand.

  “May I please have what I came for?”

  She holds out the vial and spins it so the liquid swirls inside the glass. “Of course, darling.” She glances toward Mani. “Is it for him?”

  “No,” I say, snatching it from her fingers. “It’s not.” I’ve thought of trying to make Mani immune many times, but I haven’t wanted to take the chance. What if it didn’t work? What if I killed him? But Deven will die if I don’t try—I have to take the chance with him.

  “Even more interesting,” she says. “You fascinate me.” I don’t care what she thinks of me. I just want to take Mani and go home. I hold up the vial.

  “How much do I give him?”

  Kadru runs a lazy hand over the snake on her lap, and I hear Mani sob from where he’s hiding behind my legs. I turn to look at him and see his eyes are squeezed shut.

  “
One drop at a time over two or three doses should do it,” she says.

  “Well, which is it? Two or three?”

  Kadru’s eyes narrow, and when she speaks, her voice is icy. “Try kissing him after two doses. If he dies, it’s three.”

  Anger flares in my chest, but I’m powerless against someone like Kadru and she knows it—a snap of her fingers and one of her beasts could devour me. I have no choice but to walk away. With some effort I hoist Mani into my arms. He’s too heavy for me—he has been for a long time now—but there are at least a dozen snakes between us and the door, and he is already panicked enough. I can carry him a small distance. He buries his face against my shoulder and I move through the maze of white snakes, stepping over them, winding around them. Kadru could call them to her, could make it easier on me, but she doesn’t. By the time I get to the front of the tent, I’m breathing heavily and I have to put Mani down. I lift the flap of the tent and Kadru calls out to me.

  “I’ll see you soon, Marinda.” I turn toward her. She looks regal, like a rani on her throne surrounded by serpentine subjects. I don’t doubt her power. But I never want to see her again.

  “I don’t think so,” I say.

  She laughs. “We’ll see, rajakumari. We’ll see.” My arms break out in gooseflesh to hear her call me by Gopal’s pet name. She must have heard him use it, but it still unnerves me. I take Mani by the hand and we walk away without another word.