Serpentine Risen

by C. K. Rieke

  “It’s too late for that,” he said. “They may come to us, but that is up to them. Something else is at play here now on the sands. Can you feel it? These storms aren’t natural for this season. Come now, you can still argue if you wish, but climb up here so we may be back on our way.”

  Kera looked down and kicked the sand. She wanted to continue her argument, and she was brimming mad at Veranor, but she knew deep down they needed to be on their way. She knew better than to stay in one spot too long during the daylight, and with the storm covering their tracks, she pushed past her anger and climbed up back onto the Iox. Veranor gently helped her up by grabbing her arm and waist, and they were back off again, heading due east.

  “I want you to know, Veranor,” she said, “I know you think what you did was the right thing, but I don’t know if I can stop Lilaci again.”

  “I’ll deal with her if need be,” he said, rustling with the harness on the Iox.

  “She’s going to kill you.”

  “We’ll see,” he said, with a momentary pause. He began tightening the harness again.

  “The voices inside of me—they told me to trust you,” she said. “And I trust those voices, as they’ve never shown me ill will or driven me from the needed path, but I hate you for what you did.”

  “I can live with that,” he said. “As long as you’re safe. I’ve lived with worse than that. There’s only one path now, and that’s for me to protect you. You have to trust me that I will protect you. I can keep you safe.”

  “How can you say I’m safer now?” she asked. “If there’s anyone out in the Arr that’s more hunted than me, it’s you! You helped kill Gorlen.”

  “Do you know what happened back there?” he said in a stern voice, he lifted his right hand and wiped the sweat from his brow. “That canyon didn’t just form itself.”

  Kera turned silent and balled up her fists.

  “You know it was them,” he said.

  “How did they find us?” she asked.

  “They’re gods,” he said. “They can do almost anything.”

  “But they can’t see me,” she said. “And their vision is limited by distances far.”

  Veranor let out a surprising tone, “The ones who hid you from me all those years knew more than I gave them credit for.”

  “How did they know where to look?” she asked. “Tell me.”

  “The Sanzoral,” he said. “The gift Lilaci carries was made by them, that’s how Gorlen found you when I was with her. She could ‘sniff’ it out.”

  Kera seemed deep in thought then.

  “That, Kera, was why I had to take you,” he said. “You were in danger with her back there.”

  “What would the gods have done if they saw me?” She avoided looking at him then, as if she didn’t want to know the answer, but asked anyway.

  “I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. “I’m quite surprised they went out after you themselves. I assume they know their powers are useless on you, but perhaps at a distance they could remain strong. Maybe they went just to create that gorge to keep you from the cities.”

  Suddenly, the winds picked up in force, whipping biting sand into Veranor and Kera. The Iox let out a loud neigh and dropped onto its front knees to get low, below the winds. Kera looked around, yet she felt Veranor grow stiff. She looked back at him to see a look in his eyes she’d never seen—fear. His eyes darted around the desert.

  “Get down,” he whispered. “Kera . . .” He stared down into her eyes. “Run. Go. Now!”

  Kera leaped from the back of the Iox, as it neighed again, and she scampered off to the right. She ran as fast as her little legs could take her, and as she was beginning to run out of breath, she dove to the backside of the hill of sand, tall enough to hide her. She only hoped it would be enough to keep her hidden. With her hood hanging just over her eyes, she peered up over the top of the hill back toward Veranor, and she saw with relief that the winds were washing away her light footsteps in the sand. Before Veranor, a silver-glowing fog was creeping in with the wind. She could feel the power in the cloud as it washed toward him.

  Veranor dismounted the Iox, his black hair and cloak whipping behind him, he didn’t reach for his sword. The silver haze floated up to him, hovering in the air just before him, but looming high above.

  “Dânoz,” Veranor said.

  The silver fog spun in an elongated funnel like that of a whirling fire, then she saw him. It wasn’t the Great God himself—the one who wished for her death most—but Dânoz lit in a shimmering silver glow in the form of light smoke. She could make out his long beard and crown. His eyes glowed a light, hazy blue.

  “Veranor,” the fog said. “Where is the girl?”

  “I don’t know,” Veranor said. His voice sounded calm, but Kera could sense a hidden worry in between his words.

  The silver fog erupted into a burning hot fire. “Don’t lie to me. I can see it in your eyes. You will bring Kera back to Voru. Eyr and I are there waiting, but we are not patient. Bring her there, dead or alive, but you will not defy me in this.”

  “What of Gorlen?” Veranor asked. “What about your sixth? The dead Witch Queen?”

  Dânoz hovered in the air before him, staring down at him in heavy contemplation. “There will be no redemption for your treachery, commander.”

  “They why would I obey you? If I did know where she is?”

  “There are things far worse than death in this life,” Dânoz said. “Bring me the girl, and you will be given a quick death. If you are foolish enough to betray your gods twice in this life, you will know suffering like none in this desert. Your pain will be on display for fifty years, a sign of what treason summons upon a body. You are only flesh and bone, after all.”

  Veranor looked up at him but said nothing.

  “You have seven days to bring her to the pyramid of Erodoran,” Dânoz said. “If not, the armies of the three kingdoms will be unleashed for the first time in this age of man. I’m giving you this one last chance, only because you served your term well.”

  The commander stood there, still silent, seemingly deep in thought.

  “What say you?” Dânoz asked.

  “Dânoz,” he said. “I regret my part in the falling of Gorlen, I suppose my survival instinct was too strong. An instinct you put there. She’d threatened me far too many times for me to not be wary of her abilities. I know there is no saving me from my actions, but I will bring you the girl. I will find the girl and bring her to you.”

  Kera gasped, but then covered her mouth quickly.

  Dânoz gazed at Veranor long and hard. “Seven days.” The silver fog unraveled and as quickly as it came, it began withdrawing back into the sky before them. With the disappearing of the god’s presence, the storm that had forced its heavy winds and sands on them died away, leaving an eerie silence around them.

  Kera rose, looking over at Veranor with a look of betrayal and renewed hatred. “What have you done? I was a fool to trust you! I even told the others to trust you, and they listened to me. I should have let Burr rip you apart. Why, Veranor, why?”

  “You finished? Come on, Kera,” he said, clapping the Iox saddle before him. “We’ve got to find that egg, we’ve only got seven days.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lilaci felt the break in the sandstorm that had been blowing the last couple of hours, and she ran her fingers through her black hair, sifting the sand back to the ground. Her hands and limbs were worn from the stress of riding along the endless canyon and finding no way down. Worry ran through her mind constantly, as she feared for Kera’s safety, all alone out there with Veranor against the gods.

  As they rode their caravan along the high cliffs, Lilaci listened to the hollowed howl of the winds as they blew through the canyon, and she wished she had the full strength of the Sanzoral at her fingertips again. Maybe I could use the sands to fly myself over it, perhaps even with one Iox. I’d leave the others, but she’s more important in every aspect. Maybe I could c
atch up with Veranor and her—before it’s too late. But I can hardly lift a handful of sand with my magic now, and with how distracted my mind is, it’s difficult to work my way through it. I need to try to relax, but my hands ache too . . . She lifted her hands up to inspect them, she wiggled her fingers, and she could feel the sharp pain in her knuckles.

  Lilaci looked back to see Fewn, Roren, and Burr all riding in a single line behind her. Fewn was inspecting the cliff with her keen eyes, Burr as well, with his one eye. But Roren had his head down, veiled in his hood. I know that I feel like I’ve let her down, but Roren must be devastated. It has been his life’s mission since he was a young man to protect her, to watch over her. Even before he was born, she was all that mattered. She was the one who was going to save these lands, now she’s gone, and not with just anyone, but the one who hunted her and his family—the one he was supposed to protect her from.

  “Anything?” Lilaci asked Fewn.

  Fewn only shook her head, her face seemed more pale than usual.

  “Burr?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said. “Couldn’t even climb down if we wanted, not without a length of rope longer than any I’ve seen in my years.”

  “This can’t go on forever,” Lilaci said. “There’s got to be a way across. Even the gods aren’t perfect. There must be a flaw in it somewhere. We just need a cliff brittle enough to give us something to hold onto.”

  “Aye,” Burr said. “This is no natural canyon made by thousands of years of angry sands and winds. This was designed to keep us away.”

  “Poor Kera—” Fewn said. “I bet she’s scared. I know she’s strong, stronger even than me sometimes. But . . . I’m scared for her.”

  Burr grunted, clearing his throat. Lilaci looked at Fewn, feeling her sorrow, and then began scanning the vast ravine again.

  “There’s got to be a way across,” she said. “And we’re going to find it. This isn’t the end. We’re going to find her and help her in her quest.”

  They continued riding on the remainder of the day, from sunup to sundown. As they rode on, not finding a hint as to how to cross, doubt and fear gripped the party. Sitting around the fire that night, watching it as it popped and crackled, smelling the aroma of a bubbling, thick stew in a small cauldron hung above it, Lilaci fretted over all the mistakes she’d made to that point.

  I should have led them south. We’ve gone on too far north, I bet there would have been a break for us if we’d gone the other way. But it’s too late.

  Fewn scooted over next to Lilaci, and nudged her with her shoulder, letting up a feigned smile. “We’ll find her,” she said.

  “I’d like to think so,” Lilaci said. “But it's different this time, Dânoz himself got involved. I’m trying to keep my hope, Fewn, but I’m worried. I’m really worried.”

  “Me too,” Fewn said, resting her head on Lilaci’s shoulder. It reminded her of how she’d rest her head on her old, dead friend Gogenanth’s shoulder back when she was young. She looked up at the stars and bright, blinding white moon, and she felt the tears well up in her eyes. She shut them, and dipped her head, letting the tears fall to her lap.

  “It’s going to be OK,” Fewn said. “You know Lilaci, we’ve been through a lot together, and no matter what happens—I just want you to know that even though I was a bastard to you throughout the years, I now know that I always looked up to you. You were always so strong, and if there’s someone who can get us through this, it's you. I know it. So, just stay strong. We need you, now more than ever.”

  “I just feel that it’s never enough,” Lilaci cried. “Even with all of my training, maybe I’m not strong enough to protect her. I don’t want to give up hope, but maybe there’s someone out there who won’t let her down.”

  “You know it has to be you,” Fewn said. “There’s a connection between you two, we can all feel it. I bet she’s looking up at these same stars, asking for you to come to her again. You are strong enough, it’s just been a rough day. We will find a way across. I know we will.”

  “Aye,” Burr said. “We have to. We can’t leave her to the will of him.”

  “I hate to remind everyone,” Fewn said, “but Veranor is the only thing between Kera and the gods, and with how well he knows these lands . . . He’s her only hope right now. Even with a miracle on our side, there's no way we could catch up with him if he was taking her to Erodoran. We have to hope that there is still good in him, and that he truly chose her over Dânoz.”

  “That’s still a reach for me,” Burr said. “I don’t know if man can change that drastically, that quickly.”

  “Like I said, we have to hope.” Fewn lifted her head from Lilaci’s shoulder and looked at Roren. “What are you thinking? You haven’t spoken hardly at all today. What do you feel?”

  He sighed, staring hard into the light of the fire. “What do I feel? I feel like I’m dying. My life’s mission is over. My bones ache from my heart breaking. I let her down, and now she’s being led to the palace? How do I feel? I may as well throw myself over the side of the gorge.” He wiped the tears from his glossy eyes. “Better that than go back without her.”

  There was a heavy silence then. The four of them sat listening to the cracking and popping of the fire, watching its hazy glow float up into the air.

  “No,” Lilaci finally said. “Death is not an option. I don’t know if we’ll be able to make it across, but we don’t do her any justice sitting here in despair. We’d do better to get a good night’s rest and wake up renewed and strong for her tomorrow. I will hope in Veranor, I know him better than most, and if there’s one thing I can say for certain about him—it’s that he is steadfast in his vision. When he is dedicated to something, his whole being is wrapped around it like thread around a spool.”

  “Until he turned on the gods,” Burr said. “What sort of dedication was that?”

  “That was different,” Fewn said. “Kera’s not going to betray him like the gods betrayed him.”

  “Oh, is that so?” Burr said, his voice growing more bitter. “What if she sends her pet dragon after him, and he lives? We’ve seen how he reacts when pain and death are staring him in the face, he attacks. The last time he saw danger, he took the girl!”

  “That’s because he thought what he was doing was best,” Fewn said, with her shoulders postured back. “Who knows, maybe he was right . . .”

  “What?” Roren asked, lifting his head from his hands, a look of disbelief lit his eyes. “How could you say that? You honestly believe what he did made her safer?” Roren stood up and pointed out over the canyon. “She’s out there right now with him, and the only thing you can say is maybe she’s better off without our protection? You forget yourself, Fewn, he was the commander of all the Scaethers! He was the one who hunted Kera, and now’s he’s got her, and you’re asking us to hope?”

  “Yes,” Fewn said with her hands outstretched and her palms showing. “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “Funny,” he scoffed. “A Scaether asking me to trust a Scaether.”

  “I’m not one of them, not anymore,” she said as she scowled at him with a harsh, raspy tone in her voice. “I’ve proven I’m not one of them, how dare you.”

  “She’s no more one of them than I am,” Lilaci said, pointing her finger at him, with her brow furrowed.

  “No, Lilaci, you are not one of them,” Roren said. “But I don’t trust her as I do you. I wonder if she’s with him. You working with him? You know about this the whole time? Was this a plan you two came up with? And now you sit here spewing lies?”

  “Easy there, Roren,” Burr said. “Anger between us won’t do anything but harm.”

  “This isn’t you,” Lilaci said. “Just breathe.” She stood up from her cross-legged position next to Fewn and walked over to his side. “This is just where we are now. It’s not anyone’s fault here. It’s all our fault. But we’ll go out again tomorrow. We can’t blame one another, we’re in this together—until the bitter end.”
He reached out and grabbed her hand then, Lilaci was startled, but didn’t pull back.

  Holding her hand in his, he looked up at her with his blue, wet eyes glowing in the firelight. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m lost. I don’t know what to do without her.”

  “Like Fewn said, we have to hope that there’s still time. She’s not asking us to trust Veranor completely, I think she’s just asking us to hope that this time, he’ll do the right thing. It’s hard for me to say, but I trust him. I trust that he won’t forsake his oath to her and betray her. Kera trusted him, and she asked that we do the same. So, that gives us time. We just need to work harder tomorrow, we have to get across. Focus on that instead. Turn your pain into determination, and we’ll be reunited again.”

  Roren, seeming caught in an overwhelming gaze at Lilaci as she spoke to him, nodded and choked down his tears. “You’re right. We’ve got to stay strong for her.”

  Lilaci smiled, holding his hand tight, giving him strength.

  “I’m not a Scaether anymore,” Fewn said, breaking the silence. “I just want to clear the air about that.”

  Burr burst into a loud laugh. “We know, Fewn. We know.”

  “I’m not joking,” she said. “What do you find so funny?”

  Lilaci smiled again, and laughed, but tried to cover it up with a hand over her mouth.

  “What?” Fewn said, and Roren laughed lightly. “You just accused me of being one of them, and I’m letting you all know I’m not one. What is worth laughing about that?”

  “I’m sorry,” Roren said, concealing his laughter. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was wrong.”

  “Then stop laughing,” she said. “All of you, stop now!”

  Burr laughed. “There’s just something funny about when you get defensive. That little girl inside really comes out. Of course you aren’t a Scaether, remember you helped us kill some of them?”

  “You betrayed Dânoz and the other gods,” Roren said. “—And Veranor before that? I’m pretty certain you couldn’t be a Scaether even if you wished.”