by Rowan Casey
“Do not sulk, Little Man! Your father has given you a gift! Every warrior must battle a demon, as well as his enemies! The stronger the demon, the stronger the warrior! And a demon that cannot be vanquished is the strongest demon of all!”
I did not want to think about my father, and I certainly did not want to admit the behemoth packed into my backseat was right. So I pulled out my phone and I opened the navigational app. We were only a few minutes away.
“Getting close, Pip,” I said in the quietest voice I thought she could hear.
“I still have you, Sir Regis. Please, exercise extreme caution. You don’t know what you’re walking into. Or whose side the giant is on.”
Pip was right, about not knowing what I was walking into, and it made me feel stupid. Because it was just one of many things I didn’t know.
I turned my head a bit. “Golgameth…do you know what this place is we’re heading to?”
“HA HA HA! Are you asking Golgameth because you want to tell him? Or because you do not know?”
“Never mind.”
“Golgameth does not know the place! That is why Golgameth is with you!”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
“Golgameth only knows what awaits us at the place!”
“Yeah, I know. A ‘battle.’”
“HA HA! Yes! But only the first! And Golgameth knows the opponent! It is she who holds the Key! Be ready, Little Man! This battle is yours!”
“She? Who holds the Key, Golgameth? ”
“Why, Melusina, of course! She guards the Key you seek! Such a task would only be given to a fierce warrior!”
I turned off the main road and drove down a wooded lane. We were outside the city, near the foothills. There wasn’t much of anything nearby that I could see, other than stands of trees separated by dry looking fields that were once used for farming.
The nav screen showed the destination was ahead on the right. I pulled up and double checked the address. I guess I was hoping that maybe it was the next one over, which was silly, because this was obviously the place.
The sign in front of the building, bold, block letters painted on wood like something you’d find outside a carnival exhibit, didn’t exactly leave much room for doubt:
THE LAIR OF THE SERPENT QUEEN
Below it, in smaller but very distinctive lettering, read: CLOSED TO THE PUBLIC.
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I stared at the sign for quite some time before turning to look at the leviathan who somehow managed to cast a shadow over me even when the sun was to my opposite side.
“Serpent Queen?”
“Yes! Melusina! The Serpent Queen!”
“And she has a Key, and that Key will get me to the artifact?”
“Ho HO! Golgameth does not know of an ‘artifact.’ The Key will unlock the Contest! The Contest is the battle that Golgameth shall win!”
“I, literally, have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“HA HA HA! Go, Little Man! Retrieve the Key from Melusina! Show your mettle in this skirmish, so that Golgameth may then claim his glory!”
I shook my head and got out of the car. I stood and watched the house, a sprawling, ranch-style of dark, weathered redwood and stone, waiting for my colossal companion.
And waiting.
“Any time, Golgameth.”
“Ha! Time for what, Little Man?”
He looked ridiculous in the back of my GT, wedged behind the front seats with his knees pinned to his chest, his elbows touching each side panel. The look on his face was a complete cypher, the same, exact expression he’d had since he picked me up and spun me around in the elevator. Just a fat, jolly grin, pressing folds of cheek flesh out to each side of his face.
“For you to get out so we can, what…knock on the door, I guess?”
“Ho HO! Golgameth shall wait here! This is your battle, tiny Bishop!”
“You’re not coming with me? I have no idea what I’m even supposed to be looking for, let alone what I’m going to be up against.”
“Ha! I’m sure you are up to the task! Golgameth shall wait here!”
“Do you want me to ask for your help or something? Is that it?”
“HA HA HA! No, little man! Golgameth likes you! You are like a small dog or pig! You are fun to have near!”
“Thanks, I think. But I would feel a lot better about this if you and your gargantuan body came with me.”
“Golgameth cannot! Melusina has many serpents! Golgameth cannot be in the presence of them! Golgameth shall wait here!”
I heard the words, felt my brain swallow and digest them, but the meaning didn’t hit me for what seemed like minutes. Many serpents?
“Are you telling me you’re afraid of snakes?”
“No! Golgameth fears nothing! It is a curse of some sort. Golgameth feels bewitched around them!”
“You are. You’re afraid of snakes. I’ll be damned.”
The smile faded as the tectonic plates of his face shifted. “Golgameth is not afraid! It is just that in the presence of serpents, Golgameth’s head becomes like a bowl filled with water. His heart begins to flutter and his skin begins to grow wet and Golgameth’s limbs become like stone that cannot be moved!”
“Yeah, that’s called a phobia. Which is another way of saying you’re afraid.”
“No! Golgameth is certain it is a curse! Only a curse could do such a thing to a warrior as fierce as Golgameth! Golgameth shall wait here! Tiny Bishop shall fight this battle.”
I hung my head, eyes searching the ground. Jesus H. Christ. I drive a giant across east LA to the ‘Lair of the Serpent Queen,’ whoever the hell that is, listen to him babble on about a ‘glorious battle,’ and it turns out the biggest guy I’ve ever seen by a factor of two or three is going to wait in the car. Because he’s afraid of snakes.
I turned without saying anything else and took a few steps toward the house.
School was never my thing. Not because I wasn’t interested in getting an education, but because my father couldn’t take the hint that shipping me off to private prep mills wasn’t my idea of a childhood, and seemed oblivious to the message no matter how many times I would get myself kicked out. Even the most incorrigible student, though, couldn’t help but pick up a few things in expensive classrooms that stressed classic subjects, and one of those was that, according to Greek mythology, Medusa had a head full of snakes for hair.
Medusa, Melusina. Maybe this was what Veronica had been trying to warn me about.
I paused a few feet from the front door.
“Pip, are you listening?”
“Yes, Sir Regis. I am very close. I have your armament.”
“What can you tell me about this Serpent Queen?”
“Melusina. I am sorry, Sir Regis. I don’t know much. There was talk of such a woman, cursed to spend part of her time as a serpent. She was said to have surrounded herself with an army of snakes, to keep away men who may fall in love with her.”
“An army. Of snakes. Because just a wig of them would be asking too much.”
“What? I’m sorry, Sir Regis, I didn’t catch that.”
“Never mind. This day just keeps getting better and better. What is this ‘Key’ he’s talking about? The Sirens used the same word.”
The brief pause that followed, a short chasm of silence that would have stood out for no other reason than its unusualness, rang a faint warning bell in the back of my head.
“I believe the Key is the artifact you seek. We are very close, Sir Regis. Very close.”
It took a suffocating amount of willpower to keep myself from throwing the cards on the table right then. Pip—loyal, sweet, caring Pip—was holding out on me. I’d suspected as much for a while, and that hitch in her voice was a dead giveaway.
But now was not the time.
My fist barely made a sound as I knocked, the wood of the door was so thick. I searched around for a doorbell, but the place didn’t seem designed to invite guests or welcom
e visitors.
The door had a thumb-latch handle. I reached for it and just as I hooked my fingers around the frame the door pulled open hard enough to yank me forward. I stumbled over the threshold.
Behind me, the door stayed open, flung wide. Whatever opened it was nowhere in sight. I stood in the entry, scanning for anyone. Or any “thing.”
All I saw was a house. Someone’s home, and obviously lived in. A bit dated, more than a bit dusty, but definitely not abandoned. Mid-century modern furnishings, but not in the decorative sense—this was the real thing. The most recent piece looked like it had been added when people were wearing I LIKE IKE buttons.
My gaze quickly shot to the floor, sweeping side to side, peering into crevices. An army, she’d said. Of snakes. My hand reached under the back of my sports coat and found the grip of the Colt.
“Hello?”
No answer. No sound at all. Not even the ticking of a clock. There was something eerie about a house that was completely still, especially one that you didn’t believe was empty.
“Anyone home?”
I heard all sorts of sounds that never passed through my ears. Hisses. Slithering. The subtle, slurpy flicking of forked tongues. But nothing that actually originated outside my head.
I reminded myself that something had pulled the door open, though. Hard.
The door. I gave it a close look, maintaining more than an arm’s length of distance. It was big and thick and remained open as far as the hinges allowed. Not much room behind it.
Not much, but enough. Maybe.
I reached for the handle, letting my hand hover just next to it for a moment. I slipped my fingers behind the brass curve of it, careful not to touch it. Then I hooked it and pulled, swinging the door back.
A gaping mouth and enormous pair of curved fangs shot toward my face.
How I managed to dodge those teeth, I have no idea, but I told you I had good reflexes. And boy, at that moment, was I ever happy I did. There were rows of teeth behind those first two, twin lines of descending, needle-sharp nastiness. My body bent backward before I even knew what I was doing, an impromptu limbo stance, and the gargantuan snake head shot past my face, missing me. The long neck—although where its neck stopped and body began was impossible to say—flung back like a whip, and I saw it coil, its eyes yellow with red vertical slits that seemed to burn with rage. Its length was lopped over and under the hooks of a coat rack on the wall, its long tail trailing down onto the floor in a corkscrew. It had to be over twenty feet long, dark green with complex patterns of hatching down its back.
Its head raised up and the prongs of its tongue sniffed the air. I could sense its body gathering tension, ready to spring. It opened its jaws, just barely, readying itself. It was as if it had now learned I was fast and was calibrating its strike. I tried to remain completely still, needing the freedom to react instantly and not already be in motion. The jaws opened wider, just a hair, and its head pulled farther back. Any second…any second…almost…
“Titan, NO!”
The snake seemed to stop in mid-strike, its head dropping after having shot forward about a foot. It hissed at me—this sound I didn’t imagine—and withdrew back to the wall, those red slits never breaking contact with my eyes.
She looked like a queen, but not like a serpent. She had long, blond hair that flowed over the shoulders of her loose, linen blouse. Her eyes were a shade of gray that was almost platinum. She was trim and fit and carried herself tall without looking like she tried. She possessed every quality a twenty-five-year old could want in a look, from pouty lips to smooth, radiant skin and generous curves. But she had to be sixty, maybe seventy. There was no doubt about it. You could see it in those eyes, the way they bore a burden of having seen more than they wanted to. In the set of her brow, where her furrows ran deep, even if they didn’t leave wrinkles. It was practically in the air, the whiff of world-weariness that hung about her like a fog. She was an old soul in a remarkably well-preserved body.
I let out a long breath. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a change of pants,” I asked.
“Titan does not like intruders,” she said. “Except as meals.”
“Well, thank you for interceding. I didn’t think snakes had ears. I’ve never been so glad to have been mistaken in my life.”
“They don’t. But they have excellent hearing, their jawbones are highly sensitive to vibrations. Now, why are you in my home?” Her tone wasn’t exactly hostile, but it was far from friendly.
“Right. Sorry. I’m looking for a woman named Melusina. Would that happen to be you?”
She stared at me long enough that I inhaled and exhaled several breaths before she responded. “Who sent you?”
Good question. I wasn’t sure I had a good answer. “Cassiopeia,” I said.
“Get out.” The woman pointed to the door. “Now.”
“Wait! ‘Sent’ is not exactly the right word. She gave me this address because I’m looking for something. We’re not exactly BFFs.”
I could tell the acronym sailed over her head, but she didn’t chase it. “I don’t have anything for you.”
“But I was told you do. I was told you have… the Key?”
“Is that what you were told? Well, I’m telling you this—I don’t have anything for you. Leave. Now.”
Not having anything for me was not the same as not having what I was looking for, so I decided to operate under the assumption she was picking her words carefully.
“Look, I apologize for walking in like that. I tried knocking, honest. But please, this is important. And I really am sorry.”
Her face pinched into a quizzical look as she narrowed her gaze. “Are you trying to charm me?”
I shrugged. My mind conjured up an image of a guy in a turban with a flute. “Would you like me to? I’m told I can be quite the charmer, sometimes.”
“No, I’m talking about charming me. Trying to use magic.” She shifted her gaze from me to one wall, then another, then the ceiling. “Are you?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
She assessed me briefly with her eyes, then scanned the room in a more urgent fashion. “Then you’re being used, because someone is.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Cassiopeia. She must have followed you.”
I tried to make the connection, but couldn’t. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she follow me if she already has the address?”
“Did you bring any creature with you? Imp? Fairy? Sorcerer?”
Sorcerer. Was she talking about Dante? Had he done something? Something to me? I had no idea how she’d react to his name, if it would even mean anything to her in the first place, so I decided not to bring him into this.
“No, nothing like that. I do have a, uh, man with me, waiting in the car. But no fairies or imps. I wouldn’t even know an imp if I saw one. The only fairy I know of is named Tinkerbell.”
“Man? What kind of man? A wizard?”
“Well, no. He’s sort of a giant. But he’s afraid of snakes, and I don’t get a magic-y vibe from him. Take a look for yourself. He’s sitting in the car. Or on the car, might be more accurate.”
“Listen to me.” She tightened her gaze into something almost metallic. “Someone is using magic. You need to leave. Now.”
Pip’s voice crackled in my ear. “Is everything okay, Sir Regis?”
I cleared my throat, loudly. That was the signal that I couldn’t talk.
“It’s not me,” I said. “I swear.”
“It doesn’t matter. This house…you don’t understand. You need to go.”
“But Melusina—you are Melusina, right?—I’m here because I believe you may be holding onto an artifact for someone. A Key. Or perhaps something that looks like a spike? An object you may have received from someone named Alonzo?”
She looked like she was about to say something, her lips just beginning to part, her jaw slightly jutting forward. Then she froze. And I do mean, froze
. Full-on mannequin challenge. Her gaze was fixed, one arm was slightly raised. Not a part of her was moving. She didn’t seem to be breathing.
“Ma’am?” I took a step closer, then another. I waved a hand in front of her face.
“Pip, something is not right here.”
“Oh, no! The house is trembling! Sir Regis, get out of there! Hurry!”
Because of my stubborn streak, I probably would not have followed that advice, not right away, at least, but it didn’t really matter, because there wasn’t any time for me to react.
Melusina began to sparkle. I don’t know how else to describe it. Tiny glints of light flashed and faded sporadically from her head to her feet and then I was suddenly looking right through her, and then what was left of her dropped like millions of grains of transparent sand. Without her there to focus on, I saw that the same thing was happening to everything else, including the walls.
I turned to run, only to stop what seemed like a few millimeters from the angry jaws of Titan, his twin curves of his fangs flicking my eyelashes as I tried to maintain my balance.
Then the wall that held the hooks Titan was anchored to disappeared, disintegrating in a shimmer of collapsing dust, and the snake dropped just as a downpour of sand rained over me.
Sand. I was standing in a pit of it, the entire footprint of the house. I could see my car, the sky, trees. I could see Golgameth, though he didn’t exactly seem to be rushing to my aid. Titan shot across the sandy expanse like a winding rocket, evidently spooked. I decided he had the right idea, so I started to run.
Okay, tried to run. One foot sunk as I raised the other. I tried again, churning against the soft and shifting ground and managed to move a few feet when the first serpent rose from the sand in front of me. Then another rose next to it, followed by another.
They were surrounding me. Gargantuan serpents, formed from the sand but quite solid-looking. Snake-like, though I wouldn’t call them snakes. They had each had sharp spines rimming their skulls, angled back like a mane of teeth. They had leaf-shaped snouts and lips that curled into snarling shows of angry teeth that lined their mouths like rows of daggers.
I was surrounded by them. More continued to rise from the sand, dark gold, as if they were formed from it and polished to a glassy shine. My footing wasn’t good enough to dare trying to dart in between them and make it beyond the edge to where there was grass.
