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The Lost Gods
Book Three: Stone Rose
Nine gods ruled the world. The Dragons of the Three Storms. Sacred Zhar Ptitka. The Basilisk. The Faerie Queen and
Guardians. Holy Licht.
Piedre worships the Basilisk, god of death. Though lost when the gods fell, the Basilisk lives on in the royal family, reborn
every few generations as the Basilisk Prince, whose eyes can kill with a single glance…
Hair the color of slate, skin like marble, deadly eyes hidden from sight, the beautiful and terrible Basilisk.
~The Book of the Dead
Prologue
The tavern was overcrowded with people, choking him with the stench of sweating flesh, cheap perfume, and cheaper
alcohol. He sipped his ale in distaste and watched as more people crowded inside, making an already intolerable place
sheer torture.
Someone stepped close to his table, looming over him with an air of purpose. He didn't look up immediately, instead took
his time finishing his watered-down drink. When he finally decided to pay attention to the figure patiently standing beside
him, he faltered, caught himself gawking like a country boy visiting the city for the first time - and he'd not been that for
more years than he liked to count. "You're Cortez?"
"Is that a problem?"
He finally recovered, shaking himself and administering a stern, silent reprimand. Still…this did not match what he'd been
told. "Not what I was expecting."
"You're a fool for having expectations of a stranger," Cortez said coolly. "Let's talk somewhere else."
Nodding, the man threw some coins down and they made their way out of the tavern and into the crisp autumn night. He
pulled a thin cigarette from a battered tin case and lit it carefully in the torch by the front door before they slunk off down the
street.
High above a fat moon shone down with unusual brilliance; bright enough the harvesters could see to finish working their
fields. Here in the city, however, the light was broken by buildings and lamps, lending an eerie feeling to the atmosphere.
Cortez finally stopped behind an abandoned store - the sign hanging over the door said it had once been a hat shop. "So
what can I do for you?"
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"You'll do anything?"
"I'm no assassin. Nor do I torture. Nothing of that sort. But otherwise? Depends on the price," Cortez responded, voice still
cool.
The man chuckled softly. Sour smoke from his cheap cigarette filled the space between them, tasting especially foul against
the chill autumn air. Winter was not far off. Above them the moonlight was suddenly devoured by clouds, throwing
everything into darkness. Everything was still, relatively silent - just late enough for everyone to be in the taverns but not yet
stumbling home. "Oh, you'll like the price," the man said, and whispered a number.
Cortez gave no reaction. "What's the job?"
Still keeping his voice whisper-soft, the words only just audible to Cortez, the man explained the job he wanted done, the
glowing end of his cigarette moving rapidly in the dark as his hands moved with his words.
"That explains the price," Cortez said dryly when he finished. "Tell me what I need to know."
The man finished his cigarette and stamped it out in the dirt. He reached into his coat and pulled out a leather pouch. It
clinked as he handed it over. He withdrew another, smaller, pouch. "Fifteen percent for the down payment. All the
information we were able to gather. Where to meet us."
"Why not do the job yourselves?" Cortez asked, voice somewhere between contempt and amusement.
"We're paying you to do it," the man hissed. "That's all you need to know. Lastly - you've got two months, understand? If
you screw up…"
"I won't," Cortez said sharply, and tucked the pouches away. "Pleasure doing business. See you in two months - with the
rest of my money."
The man chuckled again, as if he were having a grand joke at everyone else's expense. "In two months, aye." Turning on
his heel, the man vanished back the way they'd come.
Sighing softly, Cortez followed after him but back on the street turned the opposite way. "Fidel is going to kill me."
First fell the Storm Dragons, betrayed by one they trusted, their power broken, Sealed away.
In the opportunity created by the raging storms, the people of Pozhar overthrew Zhar Ptitka and vowed that never again
would they need a god.
Across the chaotic seas the people of Piedre trembled in fear, huddled together in their homes while the world shook
beneath them and storms raged above them, certain that their god had finally let loose the full fury of his terrible powers but
unable to understand why.
Many days passed, the people growing more fearful and panicked as it seemed the destruction would continue on forever.
Then, one day, it simply stopped. The skies cleared, the oceans calmed, the land stilled.
Creeping from their shelters, the people ventured out into the world that was at once both familiar and strange. The
landscape had changed - where there had been green was only stone, and where had been water was only earth, what
once had been barren rock was now fertile land.
Gradually the people of Piedre realized that their god was nowhere to be found. Priests said his presence had vanished…
that it seemed their god was dead.
Why, the people wondered, would their god rain destruction down upon them only to die himself?
For many days they searched in vain for some clue as to their god's demise. On the verge of giving up, they at last lighted
upon a secluded temple, one they had never seen before, hidden high and deep in the mountains. There, to their horror,
the people did indeed find the body of their god - still and unmoving, unchanged, as though he were carved from stone…
His deadly eyes uncovered, a shattered mirror beside him, the people soon realized their fearsome Basilisk had killed
himself.
The priests, upon seeing this, declared their god was not the cause of the destruction - indeed, it was clear he had
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sacrificed himself to save them. Still others said the Basilisk was indeed the enemy, and that someone else must have
tricked him into gazing upon his own terrible reflection.
For days the arguments continued unabated, but at last the priests insisted that good or bad - a god was a god and should
so be honored. If he had saved them, then of course he should be honored. If he had turned against them, then perhaps
the honor would soothe the remnants of his anger.
To this, all agreed, and so they made preparations to bury their fallen god with full honor, filling the temple with all manner
of tribute, placing him carefully in the center of the room upon an altar.
Placed into his hands was the only other object found in the empty room, lying between the dead Basilisk and the shattered
mirror - a single, perfect rose, carved from some strange stone. It brought tears to the eyes of those who gazed upon on it,
and all agreed it was the most beautiful thing to ever exist. With great reluctance they left it with the Basilisk, fearful of what
might happen should they take it.
Their god buried, the people departed to rebuild their homes and lives. Over time the temple was forgotten, its location lost,
its existence turned to legend…
Many generations later, a child was born into the royal family. He had pale grey hair, alabaster skin, and eyes that seemed
to stop a person in their tracks. Then one day, not long after the child's fourteenth birthday, he looked into a servant's eyes
and the man immediately fell dead to the floor. Two more men died before anyone realized what was happening and had
the young boy's eyes bound.
Every few generations a Basilisk Prince is born into the royal family, mortal reincarnations of the Basilisk of Piedre, awaiting
the day when he might once more reclaim his power as the god of stone, the god of death and destruction.
Part One
Death is a period of rest, not an end.
~The Basilisk
Chapter One
They blamed the death on him.
It didn't matter that his grandmother had been seventy-eight, frail and worn from a hard-lived court life. Nor did it count for
anything that she'd wanted to die, was tired of coughing into her delicate lace handkerchiefs, was tired of not being able to
even eat her favorite foods.
No. All that mattered was that Culebra was the last to see her alive. He was the one she had chosen to spend her last
moments with, therefore he must be the reason she was dead. If not for him she would still be alive, cackling and speaking
loudly of all her own, old scandals. If not for him, she would have lived to seventy-nine. To a hundred.
There were no whispers, not yet. Even the most obnoxious in the assembled would not whisper while the priest read the
funeral rites. Culebra could feel the stares, though. Cold, curious gazes crawled across his skin like poisonous insects.
His fault they would whisper later. They were all his fault. Just like his parents. Just like Granito and the others.
In the air, the smell of roses was sharp. He vaguely remembered them from when he was a little boy, his eyes still
uncovered. They were a deep, rich red. Like fresh-spilled blood, Granito had once said. The sort that came from a deep
wound, not a shallow flesh wound that only spilled bright, garish blood.
He hated the smell. Roses were the flower of death in Piedre.
Music began to play, a sad and solemn tune his grandmother would have hated, as the priest finished speaking. Now the
whispers started. Culebra could picture the way their mouths would move behind gloved hands and black-lace fans.
Incense mingled sharply with the scent of roses, bitter and acrid - funeral incense. Beneath it all he could smell the death.
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The corpse of his grandmother, despite the way the body had been dressed. He could smell those decomposing in the
Great Cemetery behind the Cathedral. He could smell it looming on someone several rows back, a little to the left. A
woman, he thought. It was also on the priest, distant and faint, like just catching a whiff of what the cooks were baking in
the wind.
Last night he had smelled it on his grandmother, stronger than ever. Like soured milk. She'd been the only one he'd ever
told about the ability to smell death…the only one who had not once held his curse against him. Isabella the Bold had loved
her grandson as much as her daughter. She'd asked him if he could smell it on her, and had smiled when he'd said yes.
He had known she would die, but he hadn't killed her.
The whispers said otherwise, but they always had.
Culebra wrinkled his nose as a lesser priest walked by with the incense. Too much. The sharp, bitter smell stung his nose,
and would have burned his eyes were they not so tightly bound in bandages and silk. Black silk, to match his robes. He
remembered vaguely what he looked like, pale skin and gray hair. Black probably made him look even more frightening,
and so unlike his countrymen it would be depressing if he was not already so used to it.
A hand touched his, gently, cautiously. Culebra pulled his hand away, shaking his head. The hand withdrew.
Corinos, asking if he was all right. He wasn't, but he would be anyway.
He wanted the funeral to be over. Isabella - she had never allowed her grandsons to call her 'grandmother' - hadn't wanted
this sort of service. She detested the pomp and circumstance, the ostentatiousness. "Flat boring. Never once did I spend a
single moment of my life doing boring. I won't spend a single moment of my death doing it either. Blasted priests, they'll
shove me in a box and make me be boring. Culebra, my pet, you see to it I have some fun. Hear me? Isabella the Bold will
not become Isabella the Boring Corpse.
Thinking of her words almost brought a smile to his face, but if he smiled now the whispers would turn into exclamations.
Culebra forced himself to remain politely expressionless. He would visit Isabella later, in the night, and send her off properly.
No roses. No incense. No boring rites. No obnoxious chants.
A sudden scream split the air, shattering the chatting of the priests, the quiet of the temple.
"It almost bit me!" A woman shrieked hysterically. "I almost died!"
Culebra stiffened in his seat as he realized what was going on. It would seem that one of his darlings had escaped…
He stood up slowly, and could feel as all eyes turned toward him. Slowly, carefully, he made his way down the row in which
he sat and into the center aisle. Who had shrieked? He knew that tone. Ah. Lady Elisabeth. The twit. "Lady, one moment
and I will see to the matter."
"Corinos," Culebra said softly, and allowed his bodyguard to lead him down the center aisle to the row where Lady Elisabeth
and several others had been sitting before they scrambled out in a near-panic. He ignored the scents of perfume, sweat,
and fear that washed over him. He hated crowds. There were simply too many things that could go wrong.
Halfway down the pew, he stopped and knelt, hands reaching out to touch the body that brushed against his ankles.
Gingerly he lifted up the surprisingly heavy snake, stroking its scales, letting it wrap around him. It brushed against his ear,
his hair, before finally settling around him like an exotic wrap. It was a heavy but not unwelcome weight. Now Culebra did
smile, petting the smooth, slick scales.
This snake he didn't know. A new one, how exciting. He wondered what kind.
Slowly he turned and made his way once more to the center aisle. "I apologize for the disturbance," he said in a low voice to
the head priest. "I will take him away. Please continue the service without me." Bowing his head, he heard the swish of
fabric, the rustle of movement, as people bowed to him. Turning away, he began walking in the direction of the main
entrance.
He tensed as he felt a hand land gently at the small of his back. "I no longer require your assistance," Culebra said levelly,
only just keeping frost from his voice.
He felt Corinos shrug in the way the hand on his back shifted slightly. "I beg pardon, Highness, but it began to rain during
the service and I would not have you stumbling through mud and puddles."
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Culebra grit his teeth and gave a stiff nod. He swore he could smell Corinos's quiet satisfaction, as the hand on his back
settled more firmly. Culebra could feel the heat of it even through the layers and layers of his heavy black robes.
"Describe my new beauty?" he said to change the subject, distract himself from the warm touch.
Corinos chuckled softly, and Culebra told himself sternly not to admire it, not to be warmed by it. He missed that sound so…
"She is quite beautiful, Highness. Dark green and yellow scales."
"Green and yellow? That is not native to Piedre…" Culebra frowned in thought, fingers going to stroke and pet his new
snake, which seemed almost to nuzzle into his touch. He barely noticed as Corinos gently guided him along the central
courtyard and into the palace. "It could not have come in on a ship. Do you think?"
"It would not be the first time," Corinos said, and Culebra could hear the smile in his voice.
Always patient. Always kind. Corinos knew him better than anyone. Understood him. Knew why he acted the way he did.
Culebra wanted nothing more than to accept all that Corinos had more than once offered him. Only once had he come
close to giving in.
He couldn't give in. He was cursed. Granito had died because of him. That Corinos did not hold it against him only made
Culebra love him more. Made it that much harder to say no.
He knew from the smell - clear, bright, free of the foul smells that permeated the rest of the palace - that they had arrived at
his sanctuary. He jerked away from the hand still resting at the small of his back. "Thank you, Corinos."
"You are welcome, Highness. I will wait for you."
"That won't be necessary. I can call for you. Return to the service." Culebra turned and slowly pushed open the door into
his sanctuary.
Inside he was greeted by the smell of fresh water, plants, and sun-warmed rock. He had never seen it, but he knew from
touch that the entire sanctuary was made of glass. In the warm months, the sun shone through and kept everything as
warm as his darlings preferred. The multitude of plants, water, and rocks gave them both warm and cool places to recline.
So quiet. Nothing but the splash of water and the rustle of plants met his ears, though if he listened close he could tell when
his snakes moved.
He knelt and let his newest companion slither down his arm, then stood and walked toward what he knew to be almost
exactly the center of the vast sanctuary. Exactly how many snakes he had, he wasn't certain. Hundreds. Nearly all of them
venomous. Not a single one had ever tried to bite him. Nor would they.
More than once they had been quite willing to bite for him. A great many nobles and visiting dignitaries had no idea how
very close they had come to death, for daring to upset the Basilisk Prince.
His people might fear, even hate him - but he would always have his darlings.
As he reached the center of the sanctuary, Culebra slowly bent down and slid onto a large boulder. It was old, worn down
by water and time, moved to the palace decades ago by the last Basilisk Prince, curved perfectly to make a place for him to
lay.
He stood back up, briefly, to shuck off all but his thin, linen under robe. He heard one of his shoes splash faintly into the
water of a nearby pool and moved to retrieve it, laying it atop his discarded clothing before finally stretching out on his stone
bed.
In mere seconds snakes gathered, all lengths and sizes. Some curled up on his legs, others along his side. Two wrapped
up together on his belly, three more wound around his neck and shoulders. Still others twined about his arms.
More than once a servant had dared to open the only door leading in or out of the sanctuary, only to shriek in panic to see
him covered in snakes. Over time, the panic had faded away to resignation. The fear never did - no one, not even Corinos,
would venture into the sanctuary of snakes.
It was the only place where he was not feared or hated. Here, he was loved and could love freely. His snakes had nothing
to fear from him. They knew him, knew from whom he was descended and loved him for it.
Culebra reached up to pet the one which rested with its head on his right cheek, his left pressed against the sun-warmed
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stone. He had intended to stay only a moment, to see that the new one was well-situated…but it was so warm and quiet…
He woke much later, when he could feel that moonlight rather than sunlight shone down upon him. The snakes shifted,
moved way, as he slowly stood up. "Sorry, my beauties. I must go. I'll return to you again soon."
Not bothering to even try to redress himself, Culebra bundled up his clothes and hastily crossed to the door. Pulling it open,
he stepped through - and caught too late the scent, crashing right into the hard, muscled chest of his bodyguard. "I told you
not to wait," he said. He tried to sound firm, annoyed, but all he felt was contrite - he'd known Corinos would ignore him and
wait.
"You should not be walking about so, Highness. It is far too cool out."
"I'm fine," Culebra said, but he could hear and feel the way Corinos moved, the swish of fabric as Corinos stripped out of
his own robe and draped it over Culebra's shoulders. "I have my own robes right here, Corinos."
"They are soaking wet, Highness. You should not leave them on the ground, your pets ruin them every time."
Culebra did not protest as a hand settled at the small of his back and began to guide him away from the sanctuary. "They
are simply eager to see me."
A soft chuckle. "Tell them their affection is best shown by not ruining your clothes."
"At least I don't go completely naked," Culebra said without thinking. He winced as his own words struck him, the hand at
his back tensing, the fingers digging a moment. "I should not have said that."
Corinos sounded sad as he replied. "You should not say no, Highness. That is the only thing which falls from your mouth
that displeases me." His voice was like dark sugar, the thick, soft stuff that was sugar mixed with molasses. His favorite
breakfast was buns covered with melted dark sugar, not least of all because they had always made him think of the man
beside him.
Now he couldn't stand them. They tasted bitter, sour. Something that had once been sweet, but was now past its prime. "No
is what I said, no is what I mean."
"You will not kill me, Cul."
Culebra abruptly halted, turned, and shoved hard - and it only angered him more that he was only able to shove Corinos
away because Corinos permitted it. "Do not say such things to me, bodyguard. You cross your bounds. I will find my own
way to my rooms. You are dismissed for the evening."
Furious, more furious at the trembling in his hands, Culebra turned and stormed away, counting steps from pure habit,
turning as necessary, hands landing upon his bedroom door right before his anger drove him to keep moving and crash
right into it. He slid inside, and locked the door behind him.
It wouldn't keep Corinos out, if he felt like entering - his bodyguard knew more than a few little tricks - but it would make it
clear that Culebra was still angry.
He was nearly to the closet when he heard the familiar sound of Corinos picking the lock. Never mind the bastard had a set
of keys to every room of the palace in which Culebra spent time…he just picked them to prove Culebra could not and would
not stop him.
If he didn't love the man so much, Culebra would sic a snake on him. As it stood, he was still awfully tempted. He turned
and folded his arms across his chest, and waited.
"Highness," Corinos greeted calmly. His feet were almost soundless as he padded across the room. He smelled of leather
and steel, a faint, lingering hint of funeral incense that, on him, did not smell bad at all.
Culebra recoiled as he drew too close for comfort. "I believe I told you, bodyguard, that you were dismissed."
"I thought you would like to go see your grandmother, Highness, now that the rest of the palace is asleep and will not upset
you."
Scales and teeth, he hated that this man knew him so well. "I can go myself."
"It is raining quite heavily, Highness."
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Which meant he'd be disoriented, and that meant he would need Corinos's help. "Very well," he said ungraciously.
He felt and heard Corinos move, and then he was being undressed. Corinos's hands were assured but gentle.
Culebra shivered as he stood nude in the middle of his room, hugging himself as he heard Corinos move to the wardrobe.
Then he was back, and helping Culebra slide into soft, warm linen and fine wool.
"Fall has been temperate," Corinos said idly, "which means winter will be harsh."
Nodding, Culebra slid into the shoes that were held for him, one hand resting on Corinos's shoulder for balance. "Perhaps
there will be snow for my birthday."
"Undoubtedly, Highness."
The thought of snow tricked a smile from his face. He loved snow - cold but so soft. The way it caught in his hair, melted on
his cheeks.
So very different from the water it began as…Culebra shifted his thoughts before they could turn down a dark path.
The water in his sanctuary was one thing. Even rivers did not bother him. Never again, though, would he venture upon the
sea…
Snow. He clung to that thought as Corinos draped a rain cloak over his shoulders.
Given that his greatest moment of weakness had been in the snow, he should hate it. As hard as tried, however, he could
not. He cut the thought off. "Come," he said sharply, and strode toward the door and out of his room.
Corinos caught up a second later, that cursed hand immediately moving to the small of Culebra's back. Arguing was a
waste of effort. Culebra let his bodyguard have his way for the time being.
Eventually the man would give up. Realize he was wasting this time. That he should, in fact, hate the man who was
responsible for the death of his adored older brother.
If not for Culebra, Granito would still be alive. He would still be wreaking havoc in the palace, flirting with servants and ladies
alike, flouting rules cheerfully alongside the Dowager Queen while the King, Culebra's older brother, bellowed for his royal
guard and grandmother to behave.
Granito had died protecting him from raging, ravenous mermaids.
Culebra hated himself. Why didn't Corinos?
"Here we are, Highness," Corinos said softly.
He could smell it - death was a scent that would never elude him. Crypts always smelled the same, no matter how often
they were cleaned, how well they were maintained. Nothing mattered. They always smelled of age and rot, of dust and
mold. Of lost, forgotten things.
"What does it look like?" he asked softly, reaching out to trace the letters carved into the marble pedestal upon which his
grandmother's coffin rested. Her name was carved, and the dates of birth and death. A poem, a pretty, flowery stanza that
she would have loathed.
He could see her mouth twist in disgust, a sneer shaping her lips - then she would suddenly burst into laughter and a poem
of her own, something hideously inappropriate that would make all the young girls blush, the young boys look nervously at
the young girls, and even a few of the jaded adults would flush with guilt - or pleasure.
The Dowager Queen had ruled well and firmly, until she handed it over to her own son - and sadly to her grandson, when
the King and Queen had died in their sleep from the strange illness that had swept the country that year. In all those years,
even through the sadness, she knew how to dredge up smiles and cries of outrage and loved every minute of it.
Culebra had always been envious of her ability to live so loudly, so colorfully.
"It's rather more simple than I would have expected his Majesty to choose," Corinos said thoughtfully. He moved closer,
briefly blocking the heat of the torch he'd set in a sconce upon their entrance to the royal tomb, then knelt beside Culebra.
"White marble, the letters are simply carved, not gilded as he threatened." A soft chuckle. "The coffin is dark rosewood, very
simple."
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"I bet she arranged it all right under his nose," Culebra said, unable to resist a soft laugh of his own. "That's why the
ceremony was so pretentious - Pruebas was having his revenge."
"Undoubtedly," Corinos agreed.
Culebra let his fingers slide away from the cold marble, and they brushed briefly against Corinos. He ignored it, and brought
his hands together, bowing his head to pray silently. Be warm while you rest, Grandmother. Isabella. When you wake, the
sun will be shining. More formal prayer complete, Culebra allowed his thoughts to slide to the more personal. I'll miss you.
Thank you for everything. I wish I could fulfill your last promise, Isabella. I cannot. I knew my parents would die. I knew
Granito would die. I told you that shortly you would die. All around me I sense death. I am leaving, grandmother. I am sorry."
"I am ready," he said. "We can go." Briefly he thought to protest the way Corinos helped him - he was more than capable of
standing up on his own, but telling it to his grandmother made everything real, clear. All too soon, he would never feel
Corinos's touch again. Would never smell him, or sense when he was smirking.
He was leaving. Arranging it had taken months, and even now far too many things could go wrong. Whatever happened,
however, no one was stopping him. - he was tired of it. Of everything.
Knowing people were going to die, and sometimes even knowing precisely how long they had to live. How did his ancestors
bear it? Nor could he take the hateful whispers, that everything was his fault. That everyone he touched or grew close to
was doomed to die before their time. More than once he had heard them say it was a miracle that his brother was still alive.
Culebra hated them all. Did they think he enjoyed this existence? That he liked knowing that all he had to do to kill
everyone and everything in sight was rip off the silk and cotton bound tightly around his eyes?
He was only human, for all that he was cursed with a terrible power.
Only a month or so more, and all should fall into place. He would finally be free of this place once and for all. He would not
have to wait as people died around him. Would not have to await the day when he finally killed himself or let someone kill
him.
He would not have to wake up one day and realize that the scent of death clung to Corinos.
So lost in thought was he, that they were back in his room before he realized it. He ordered Corinos away, but as usual was
ignored, as Corinos went about dressing him for bed.
"Sleep, Highness," Corinos said gently, and all but shoved him into bed, tugging the blankets up high.
More drained from the day, the funeral, than he liked to admit even to himself, Culebra curled up in his blankets and pillows,
chuckling softly at the ponderous weight that shifted and moved beside him on the massive bed.
Ruisenor was the only snake who bore a name. Culebra had never known another like her. She was enormous - at least
fifteen feet long, as wide as his hand was long. He had met her when he was only a child, back when he did not have to
cover his eyes…mere months before his gaze started to freeze people in their tracks, leave them with splitting headaches.
She was black - true black, the kind that almost looked blue in certain light. Sinuous, elegant, beautiful and deadly. He
seldom saw her during the day, only in the early morning and late at night, but if he needed her, Ruisenor was there.
He felt himself drifting off, even his darkest thoughts not able to win against the cozy fire, warm bed, the snake beside
him…and Corinos, whom he could hear sit down beside him, back to the bed, head just lying against the mattress.
The stupid man would stay there all night, just because he knew Culebra was still upset about Isabella. Bastard bodyguard,
couldn't he see he'd be better off without having to babysit a blind prince? He'd do better, be happier, if he'd just go
somewhere else!
That's why Culebra was leaving. He was tired of sensing death, of the whispers…but really it was Corinos. He wanted
Corinos to be well and truly happy. He did not want to see the man he loved begin to hate him as everyone else did.
Except Corinos was stupid and stubborn and wouldn't go away like Culebra ordered him. Well, he'd finally figured out how
to fix the problem. In a month, Culebra would vanish and Corinos would finally be free.
Chapter Two
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Corinos waited until Culebra's breath evened out, then stood and moved to sit down beside him on the bed.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, foolish prince.
Corinos was going to throttle him. Then beat him senseless. Then he was going to tie him down and show him in explicit
detail just how much Corinos was never going to stop loving him.
Or let him go.
Did Culebra really think he didn't know what the prince was up to? He'd be insulted if he wasn't so livid.
The missives had come only that morning, and Corinos had all but bolted for the sanctuary - where Culebra always spent
his mornings - to wring his neck then and there.
He raked a hand through his hair and stifled a sigh.
All day he'd debated whether or not to tell Culebra he was aware of his scheme to run away. In the end, with the funeral
and the rumors that of course started flying, Corinos had decided to keep his knowledge a secret.
Let the month pass. Let nothing happen. Then he'd either beat Culebra senseless or actually go through with that whole
tying down thing…
Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, Corinos forced his thoughts to behave and looked down at the sleeping prince. Against
his will, his hand strayed up to stroke the fine lines of Culebra's fine cheek bones, brush soft strands of gray hair from the
dark silk that covered his eyes.
They would have to change the bandages in the morning. He should have done it tonight, but Culebra had looked
exhausted. That he'd slept straight through the remainder of the service and the farewell dinner…Culebra was usually good
about tending his duties.
Not of late, but that was probably because his depression was running deeper than usual…and also his plans of running
away.
He wondered how long Culebra would refuse to speak to him, when he realized that his bodyguard had been aware of his
plans the entire time. Hopefully not more than week - that had been torturous.
It was times like this Corinos missed his brother more than ever. Granito could make anyone smile, could ease away any
sorrow. No one could remain depressed around his older brother - Granito didn't know the meaning of the word depressed.
For years it had made him jealous. That had ended in the Dowager Queen's apple orchard - him with a broken nose, his
brother a black eye, and all misunderstandings resolved.
They'd told Culebra they'd gotten into it with some apple thieves. Every since…he'd been trying to convince Culebra that the
prince was being stupid.
So far, he'd gotten one kiss and a great deal of frustration for his efforts.
Granito had said he had more patience than even a god. However, even gods eventually ran out of patience - and Corinos
was nearly at the limit if his.
There had to be a faster way to convince a stubborn, depressed prince that giving in to the bodyguard that loved him mind,
body, and soul would solve a lot of both their problems.
Every minute of every day Corinos rather thought that the Basilisk Prince was a poor title - Stupid, Stubborn was far more
fitting.
Stupid, stubborn, beautiful, wonderful, and so weighed down with his own thoughts that Corinos wanted nothing more than
to spend the rest of his life soothing that pain away. If only Culebra would let him…
He shook his head. Sleep was what he needed, but he didn't trust Culebra not to wake and go wandering at some point in
the night. Which just wouldn't do, and thinking about it returned him to that which mattered most.
Keeping Culebra safe.
More than a few groups would like to have the Basilisk Prince at their disposal. Reports had been flying in lately of
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increased activity from groups that had too long been dormant.
The Brotherhood of the Black Rose had been seen within the royal city, asking questions they shouldn't be asking, stirring
up trouble with them.
Everyone had thought the Brotherhood of the White Rose dead - yet more than a few reports had been sent in, dispelling
that belief quite firmly, at least in Corinos's mind.
So far he had managed to keep the reports to a precious few, not wanting to alarm the King or Prince until he and the
King's men were certain the two organizations were truly going to become a threat. The Roses rose and fell, but seldom did
they rise to dangerous levels.
Except that a Black Rose had somehow convinced Culebra that he could spirit him away to the mountains. Corinos had
gone cold reading those reports. Then he'd wanted to kill a certain prince.
Now he had to worry about the Black Rose. They seldom turned into real trouble, but when they did - history was painted
with the blood they'd spilled.
The Brotherhoods dated back to the days when, according to legend - and who could call it false with Culebra walking
around - the people had buried the dead Basilisk, and placed in his hands a single rose that had been lying beside the
body.
The people had argued. Some had said the god was responsible for the destruction. Others said he had saved his people.
From those who believed the Basilisk had turned on his own children arose the Brotherhood of the Black Rose. Whenever a
Basilisk Prince was born, they were never far away. Often they did what amounted to nothing.
Three Basilisk Princes had died at their hands.
The Brotherhood of the White Rose arose from those who stood in defense of the fallen Basilisk. They fought against the
Black Rose. At one point in time they had been a legitimate faith - but time, feuding, and the far more bloodthirsty Black
Rose had destroyed them. Or so had been believed until recently.
He'd sent out a few trusted soldiers to investigate the matter more thoroughly. They should be reporting back at the end of
the week. Corinos hoped it was nothing more than rumors, ruffians using the Roses simply for the reputation.
If the Black Roses were fully active…
His thoughts broke off as Culebra shifted restlessly beside him, breaking the silence with tortured half-sobs. A nightmare.
Culebra had them frequently, ever since a return journey from Pozhar almost three years ago.
Scales and teeth, Corinos didn't know how the prince endured it. He felt sick thinking about it. Until that moment, mermaids
had only been part of ancient Kundouin myth…then sailors and travelers had started relating chilling rumors, terrifying
stories…those that survived.
Corinos glowered in the dark, as thoughts of the mermaids invariably made him think of the nobles who had all but attacked
Culebra upon his return. No survivors, no other witnesses. Only their blind, cursed prince to say that an entire ship full of
people had been killed by mermaids - everyone except the prince.
No one else could be found to say the story was true, of course - they had been killed. However, Culebra said that Prince
Nankyokukai of Kundou had saved him, taken him to Pozhar, where Piedre had sent a new ship to see him home.
Except that only months after its arrival in Pozhar, Prince Nankyokukai's ship had been lost at sea. It had vanished
completely. Some said it had to do with the days-long storm that had seemed to cover the entire world. The faithful and
devoted had declared it a sign of the return of the Three Storm Dragons of Kundou.
Only a year and a half ago, Pozhar too had suddenly turned around its opinion on the divine, and declared their Sacred
Firebird was not, after all, going to destroy them. Queen Sonya declared he was returned to them, and that the rest of the
Sacred Prophecy would some day come to pass.
All that meant to Corinos was that there was no one to tell the suspicious fools of Piedre that their prince had indeed been
attacked by mermaids. He needed no such witnesses, but he would enjoy shoving it in the faces of those obnoxious fools.
Beside him, the prince's cries suddenly worsened, and he thrashed on the bed, arms flying out, as if he was lost and trying
to find his way. Corinos caught the arms and pressed them gently down, leaning his weight over Culebra until he stilled. He
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bent his head to speak softly in the prince's ear. "Culebra, it's all right. I promise."
Making a faint, whimpering sound, the sleeping prince turned toward his voice, breath soft, smelling of sweet wine as it
washed over him. Corinos sat up before he could do something stupid and painful. In all the years he'd loved the prince,
only once had Culebra let slip any sign he felt the same.
Stupid, stubborn princes who thought they were doing the right thing.
Still, he did have one kiss. Corinos was more than willing to consider that progress. After he told the prince his little scheme
had been found out, he would start to work harder at settling what lay between them.
Reluctantly Corinos let his hands slide away from Culebra's arm, enjoying the soft skin beneath his rough hands. Culebra
would always stand out in Piedre. His skin was perfectly, flawlessly white, hair pale gray and as fine as silk. It was a startling
thing to see in a country where everyone had olive skin, dark hair and eyes. He wondered, sometimes, what color Culebra's
eyes were beneath the bindings. Would they be dark amber like his brother's? Brown like his father's? Or would they be the
same gray as his hair?
Not that it mattered. Culebra's eyes had been covered for as long as he'd known the prince. Though he wondered about the
eyes beneath the binding, it was more natural curiosity than any real desire to know.
Something brushed by his hand, drawing him from his wandering thoughts, and in the light of the fire Corinos could just
make out the long coil of black that was separate from the surrounding darkness.
Ruisenor. If Culebra had a favorite among his hundreds of snakes, it was the great beast that slept with him every night.
Being appointed to the position of bodyguard to the Basilisk Prince of Piedre had forced him to become something of an
expert on snakes. He could tell in a moment which ones were venomous, which ones merely squeezed their victims to
death…which ones were native to which countries. He had not realized there could be so many snakes in the world. If there
was a species unaccounted for, then it was only a matter of time. Just this night, yet another one had appeared - lost in the
church while it had sought out its prince.
Culebra had told him once that he could sort of read how the snakes felt. That they seemed to know, too, when he was
happy or upset, and who was the source of either. It chilled Corinos when Culebra let it slip one night that he had only to
ask, and the snakes would employ their deadly skills to remove all those who upset him.
More than a few people in the palace were more terrified of the Prince's pets than they were of his eyesight.
Thankfully, precious few knew about Ruisenor. The snake vanished during the day - Corinos did not want to know where it
went - so the servants never saw her. He was the only one who tended and cared for the prince.
He had no idea where the gigantic snake originated. All his research told him was that no one had ever heard a blue-black
snake of such length and size. There were not even accounts of old myths or legends. The snake, as near as he could tell,
did not exist.
So long as it did not turn on the prince - something he had to concede was highly unlikely - Corinos did not particularly care.
He would also admit that should he fail to keep intruders away, there was no doubt that Ruisenor would appear to take care
of matters. A snake of that size…he did not like to think too hard on what sorts of things it could eat if it felt like it.
Though there were days he could cheerfully compose a list and hand it to her with an apology if the food wound up tasting
awful.
First on that list would be the Roses. Then all the nobles who needed to learn to keep their disrespectful, foolish mouths
shut. Some days he was sorely tempted to tack on Pruebas's name. He was a good King, but a poor brother.
His thoughts were once more broken off as Culebra began to shift again in his sleep, moving restlessly from side to side.
Corinos reached out and let his hand rest lightly on his hip, tugging him a bit closer, wishing he could hold him properly. The
prince immediately stilled, a telling sign, and Corinos took what joy from it that he could. He smiled faintly at the dark head
that moved closer to rest alongside Culebra's. "We take care of him, don't we, dark beauty? Perhaps between us, someday
we will make him see reason."
The snake shifted again, and it was probably the late hour that made it seem as though the snake nodded. Corinos smiled
faintly and reached up to gently stroke her head - it had taken him months to work up the bravery to touch the gigantic
snake. She had, in the end, seemed to say 'about time' but again he thought it must only be in his head. On the other hand,
Culebra was quite confident in expressing to him how the various snakes felt…so perhaps she was nodding.
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He let his hand slide away to once more rest lightly on Culebra's hip, feeling the warmth of the prince, silently promising to
them both that one day he would be able to comfort Culebra properly, finally rid of the wall that the prince insisted stay
between them.
*Several minutes later, Culebra stilled, settled, and Corinos knew there would be no more dreams that night. Stroking the
prince's cheek one last time, he slid back off the bed and settled on the floor, crossing his arms over his chest, sword laid
across his lap.
"Corinos, I have told you a thousand times not to sleep on the floor like that," Culebra said in his ear.
If the prince wanted revenge, then speaking to him in that low, sleep-hazed voice was certainly the way to go about it. Just
barely touching him as he sat up was also a clever idea. Stifling a sigh, Corinos stood up and stretched. He scrubbed at his
hair and face, longing for a shave. "Sleep well, Highness?"
"Better than idiots who insist on sleeping on cold floors," Culebra retorted, reaching out to pet Ruisenor as the snake
slithered off the bed and away to wherever it went during the daylight hours - which was still an hour away. Culebra was not
one to sleep for long, usually going to bed late and rising at least an hour or two before dawn. The nap he'd taken
yesterday was testament to just how upset by the Dowager Queen's death he really was.
"I slept very well, thank you, Highness."
Saying nothing, Culebra strode across his room and pulled on the long rope in the corner of his room - calling for breakfast,
a bath. He would assist Culebra, and once he was eating, set guards while he went to prepare himself for the day.
Dressing Culebra was pure torture - but one he would not give up for the world. In every way Culebra was different from his
countrymen. Pale where Piedrens were dark, slender and fine-boned where most Piedrens were of larger, stockier build. No
matter how many hours Culebra spent in the sun, he would always be as pale as marble, and no amount of exercise would
ever build his muscles beyond a wiry strength that only emphasized his slighter frame.
Yet it was that very strangeness that made him the closest to Piedre - to the god they had worshipped before the gods were
lost.
Still, it wasn't his near-divinity of which Corinos thought when he looked upon Culebra. Unlike so many others, he saw only
a young man who spiraled down into despondence a little more each day…a young man he wished would realize that
Corinos was all he needed to drive away most of that anguish.
Shaking off his thoughts, Corinos crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out a pale, blue-gray robe. Moving to Culebra, he
carefully stripped the prince of his sleeping clothes and slid the robe over his shoulders, letting his hands caress lightly as
he pulled the cord belt tight and cinched it.
"Corinos," Culebra said sharply.
Corinos ignored the reprimand. "What are your plans for the day, Highness?
Only a few years ago, Culebra had been the exotic face of Piedre to the world - a blind, pretty prince with a sharp mind, he
had traveled the world, representing his country in Kundou, Pozhar, and Verde.
Then had come the mermaids - an ancient Kundouin myth come to life in the most awful way. Culebra had held together
remarkably well, all through his second journey back across the sea - and that after having first to return to Pozhar. He had
kept calm throughout the interviews with his brother and the ministers, through the whispers at dinner…and had broken
down entirely in his room when finally he was left in peace.
He had refused to go near the ocean since. The decision had only deepened the rift between Culebra and his brother - not
that either one of them seemed to mind. There was very little love lost between them; Culebra too proud and resigned to
being disliked by everyone, Pruebas too strict and unbending - and sometimes Corinos suspected envious - to be more
understanding and gentle with his little brother.
Granito had always tried to reconcile the differences between the royal brothers, but Pruebas had disliked Granito for his
colorful, almost flamboyant ways - traits, he thought, that did not belong in a bodyguard.
Except flamboyant had been exactly what Culebra needed in someone who spent every hour of every day with him. He
needed people who laughed and flouted those rules which could be flouted. People who did not care what others thought.
Pruebas's greatest flaw was that he cared too much what people thought, and always that led back to what they thought of
his notorious brother.
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He broke off his wandering thoughts with a shake of his head, realizing Culebra had never answered him. "Highness, have
you plans for the day?"
"My beauties, of course," Culebra answered. "After that, I am having lunch with my brother. Then perhaps we might go into
town? I wanted to offer prayers for Isabella at her church."
Isabella had been fond of a small, old church tucked away in a corner of the crowded city. She had often - loudly - said it
was far more sincere than the pomposity that had built the cathedral in which yesterday's service had been held. She had
been quite close with the father who maintained it - his brother had often speculated how close, usually where Isabella could
hear and chortle secretively. Occasionally, Culebra had gone with her.
"As you wish, Highness," Corinos replied. "Have you any engagements this evening?"
"None. The council is in session, and I've no desire to attend balls and dinner parties." He could see the way Culebra
repressed a shudder. They were something he managed in the days when he had traveled, but he had never liked them.
Being blind made it difficult to navigate such things, and more than a little overwhelming. "If I am fortunate, I can enjoy a
quiet evening."
Corinos forced himself not to think about what they could - should - be doing on such a rare free night. If he succumbed to
such thoughts, he'd have a long, frustrating day in front of him.
His thoughts broke off as servants rapped at the door, and he opened it to admit them, watching carefully as they brought in
the bathtub, followed by bucket after bucket of steaming water. "Your bath is ready, Highness," he said as the servants
finished and closed the door behind them.
"I noticed," Culebra said, but without heat, the faintest twist of a smile to his lips. He set down the stone he'd been playing
with - there were several stones, and other miscellaneous objects - in a heavy porcelain bowl beside the fireplace, kept
there for their interesting textures and shapes. Culebra loved to touch them, play with them, memorize every last contour.
Corinos helped him out of his robe and into the bath, keeping his mind carefully blank as he watched Culebra slide into the
steaming water.
"You may go," Culebra said, his head bent down as he felt out his washing cloth and soap. "I am in no hurry this morning."
"Nor am I, Highness," Corinos said, and looked away from the sight of Culebra slowly and carefully washing himself. That,
however, only made his hearing more acute, and that proved far more torturous.
Sternly reminding himself of all the reasons giving in to temptation was a bad idea, Corinos strode toward the window on the
opposite side of the massive chamber and looked into the courtyard.
The royal palace was three stories high, shaped like a rectangle, the last side made up only of the palace gates. Within the
palace was a maze of long halls, interconnected chambers, hidden chambers, never mind the stairwells and smaller
hallways. Corinos could never quite tell if whomever had designed it had kept safety of the royal family in mind, or not
considered it at all. A lifetime could be spent memorizing the layout of the palace, and still several rooms would remain
undetected.
No one but a few poor servants were about. Lamps were still lit, spilling intermittent light across the pale cobblestones,
dispelling the dark of the early morning hour. Not enough of it, for Corinos's tastes. He could see far too many places where
an intruder might lurk.
Granito would have seen ever more. His brother had always been the better bodyguard. That Corinos could not find his
equal was the sole reason Culebra had only one bodyguard. Hundreds had been interviewed, but for one reason or another
Corinos found them lacking. He had been more than willing to trust Culebra to Granito, but no one else. The two of them
had been sworn as his lifelong protectors. He would not replace his brother lightly.
If he were honest, which he must always be for lies could cost lives, he was also becoming less and less willing to share.
Culebra was his. To protect. To love.
Even if Culebra was being stubborn and stupid about it.
Chapter Three
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Culebra stirred reluctantly from his snakes, giving each one that slithered away a fond caress, whispering soft goodbyes as
he stood up. He smoothed his hands down his clothes, assuring himself the jacket fell properly, that nothing was on his
breeches that should not be. He knew the pants were black, the jacket a soft gray to match his hair with black pearl buttons.
Corinos always told him what exactly he wore.
Especially when he was meeting with his brother.
Oh, the days growing up when he had contemplated putting a snake in his brother's bed.
Not a poisonous one, just one of those that looked particularly frightening to most people. So he could hear his brother
scream like a little girl.
It had, however, never been worth the repercussions - they would have tried to take the snakes away, or keep him from
them. Unbearable, especially when he was a child, because being born the Basilisk left him with even fewer friends than a
prince might have. The snakes were all he'd had until Granito and Corinos.
Forcing himself to stop stalling, Culebra gave a last snake a farewell caress and then strode to the door.
"Highness," Corinos greeted quietly, voice soothing Culebra's nerves more than he liked admitting. It always had, right from
the very beginning. A hand landed gently at the small of his back, a gesture that was unique to Corinos. Everyone else took
his arm, some more gently than others. "Your brother sent word to meet him in the sunroom."
Culebra grimaced. "Of course he did."
The sunroom had been his parents favorite place to spend time simply with each other. Once a private salon, most of the
wall and ceiling had been converted to glass panels. It caught sun nearly all day long and was still, as near as he could tell
by scent and feel, the soft brown, gold, and cream his mother had chosen.
That, however, wasn't why his brother preferred it. His brother preferred it because it was private; because no one but the
two of them ever entered it. If Pruebas lost his temper, or acted in any way less than a perfect king, no one but his loathed
brother would be witness.
Pruebas was a good king. He took care of the kingdom, kept relationships with foreign nations smooth and pleasant. The
people loved him…he was a very good king.
He was also the most obnoxious brother to ever be born. "Take me too him," Culebra said softly.
"How are your snakes?" Corinos asked as they walked.
"Well enough," Culebra replied, frowning in thought. "Restless. I cannot determine why."
"Perhaps it is the shifting weather," Corinos said. "If I recall correctly, winter is not their favorite time of year."
Culebra laughed softly, unable to help himself. Usually the castle kept the sanctuary warm enough, but one night those on
shift had run late in their duties - the cold snakes had fled to Culebra's chambers.
Servants, upon finding the menagerie there, had refused to enter his rooms for nearly a month.
He wished the snakes would flee to him more often.
"Here, Highness," Corinos said softly. He didn't need to say, really, but Corinos was nothing if not thorough.
Culebra nodded. "Thank you." He hesitated, then simply stepped forward on his own, hand landing immediately upon the
door handle.
"I will be waiting, Highness."
Ignoring the relief he felt at hearing those word, Culebra strove for impatience. "You have better things to do than stand
around a hallway, Corinos. Go do them."
Corinos said nothing, meaning he would be waiting.
Culebra resisted slamming the door shut behind him, but only because that would immediately give Pruebas something to
whine about.
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"Culebra."
"Pruebas," Culebra greeted, his voice just as stiff as his brother's. Once upon a time it had always hurt to hear that stiffness
in his brother's voice when Pruebas spoke to him. Eventually, he had just realized Pruebas didn't know how to speak to
him.
He knew how to speak to complete strangers, the nobles of his court…to everyone but his only remaining immediate family.
"What was all that at the funeral yesterday?"
"Yes, I would love some tea, thank you." Culebra moved slowly, knowing the lay of the room but never certain how carefully
the servants ensured everything was kept strictly in place. "Is that black beans and corn salad I smell?" It was one of his
favorites. Pruebas never had special meals prepared for them; he just ordered the kitchens to prepare something. Culebra
doubted the staff just happened to prepare his favorite for their lunch. They would have been a thousand times more likely
to prepare Pruebas's favorite. "What do you want?" he asked tiredly. "I can tell already that this isn't simply going to be one
of our usual terse conversations."
Pruebas sighed. "You are as suspicious as your hideous pets."
Culebra bit back the urge to defend his darlings, knowing he would be wasting his breath. Piety to the god he purportedly
embodied was, apparently, not reason enough to treat snakes kindly. He didn't understand why.
In his experience, humans were far more venomous.
A chill ran down his spine, spilling into a sick feeling in his gut.
Something about that thought frightened him. He should not think it. Such thoughts led to…Culebra swallowed and tried to
regain his equilibrium, shoving the strange thought away. "What do you want, Pruebas?"
"Your birthday," Pruebas said levelly.
He had not seen his brother since his eyes had been bound shortly after his thirteenth birthday. When he'd last seen
Pruebas, his brother had been a dark, severe boy of sixteen, more interested in learning how to be king than in dealing with
his little brother. Pruebas had been a handsome child, and he knew that had fleshed out into a handsome man. Pruebas
would never allow otherwise.
"What about it?" Culebra asked. His birthday was never as grand as Pruebas's. It was a much more formal affair, for as
much as people might fear him they could not forgot that he was the mortal reincarnation of the Basilisk.
People might disagree on whether the Basilisk had once saved his people or betrayed them, but all agreed a god should
not be disrespected. His birthdays were spent allowing the people to see him, to show their continuing respect for their god.
The Basilisk wasn't as the other gods - the chaotic Storm Dragons, the fierce Firebird, the wild Queen and Guardians….nor
even like the long lost gentle Licht. The Basilisk was stone, silent and steady. His realm was death, dying…to be under his
care was a hard thing.
So offerings and prayers were made, to show that the people might now fear him, but they still respected their god.
For all that, Culebra still enjoyed it. The food, the stupid court had to be nice to him, so many of the common people were
simply happy to have something different to do, too awed by him to be truly frightened. To them, he was just a myth come
to life - the reality of his eyesight didn't really hit them.
This year it might even snow. Usually his birthday was too early in the winter for snowfall…but oh wouldn't it be fun…
"We are going to have to cancel the ceremonies."
Culebra tensed, hands freezing on the teacup he had finally found - not where it should be, too far to the left. It would have
hurt his feelings, except he'd long ago stopped letting his brother get to him. "What do you mean, cancel? You cannot
simply cancel…"
"The final reports came in this morning, Culebra. There have been several reliable reports of increased activity within the
Black Rose. We've also had reports of the White Rose reemerging. We cannot risk your safety."
"You cannot cancel the ceremony. So many people will have already begun the journey here…and with the weather turning
cold…"
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"Messengers were sent out just a few hours ago, to begin spreading word that there will be no ceremony this year."
Culebra sat in silence. "Surely precautions could be taken…no one would want to kill me."
"You know very well that killing you isn't what anyone wants, even if the Black Rose is forever saying otherwise. You are
being stupid and selfish."
With effort, Culebra bit back his temper. "Ah, yes. I could be a weapon. Does it occur to anyone that if it came to that, I could
take care of myself? I'm blind, not stupid."
"You are the mortal incarnation of the Basilisk of Piedre."
"I'm aware of that," Culebra snapped. "If you're trying to tell me, for the millionth time, that I am failing to understand my
position, save yourself the trouble. Believe me, brother, I am well aware of it. Far too aware of it. Now you are telling me
that my one bright spot in the whole year is to be taken from me because everyone fears the Black Rose."
"You know very well why they are feared," Pruebas said, voice rising a notch. "Do you want end up like your ancestors? Is
that it? So busy sulking and moping you cannot see the reality of the situation?"
Culebra curled his hands into fists in his lap. "I know, Pruebas. Better than you might think. I am only saying that I think
perhaps you are overreacting. My birthday will not be the cause of my death." He hadn't sensed his own death yet, and he
rather thought he would. Something told him…he couldn't, however, tell his brother that. The very last thing he needed
everyone to know was that he could sense those who were shortly going to die. That had always been the best part of
traveling - away from his homeland, his strange power weakened. He had only just barely felt it, too late, before the
mermaids attacked. The ocean…deep seas were not the best place for a stone prince to be. Even with the accompanying
agonies, however, he would much rather be at home.
"Such arrogance will get you killed much faster," Pruebas said. "Anyway, I did not say this decision was debatable. It is
final."
"Why did no one speak with me first?" Culebra asked, growing angry. "I am the Basilisk Prince, the mortal reincarnation of
our most holy lord. The canceling of the ceremony should be my decision entirely; at the very least I should have had a
say."
"We think of your safety," Pruebas said impatiently. "Try to be grateful for once in your life."
"Do not speak to me that way," Culebra snapped. "You have no idea how I think or feel about anything. Grateful. You have
no idea what that word means. Is there anything else you wanted from me?" Stupid, foolish him for thinking this would
merely be a simple lunch with his brother. They met once every week or so, just so everyone could see the siblings were
getting along - that there was constant tension between them was not common knowledge.
Pruebas heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, actually. With the high threat of the Black Rose looming, and given we do not
know where the White Rose stand or what they will do - I do not think it wise for you to leave the premises until it is
believed safe for you to do so."
"So not only are you taking away the ceremony, you are taking away my freedom? Will you attempt to take away my
snakes as well? How about Corinos?"
"If your horrid pets disrupt another important ceremony, I will certainly consider taking them away. Perhaps it has escaped
your notice, brother, but those things are deadly."
Culebra smiled bitterly. "So am I. Does that make me horrid as well?"
"Do not be ridiculous," Pruebas said dismissively, but his voice held the same faint thread of fear they all did. That anyone
could kill if they were pushed far enough, or otherwise motivated, never seemed to enter their thoughts. A dog could kill as
easily as a snake. Even a small mouse could do a great deal of harm when it was fighting for its life. No one thought of that.
They just saw his covered eyes and feared.
"What else?" Culebra asked in resignation. "Shall I stay in my room?"
"Is there anywhere else you have to be?" Pruebas asked coldly.
"I do my duties!" Culebra said, hands fisting tightly in his lap. "Not once have I ever shirked my responsibilities, brother. I do
all that you ask of me."
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"Except journey as you did before."
The tension in his shoulders and back was becoming painful. It would take him hours, if not days, to work it all out. "Do not
ask that of me," he said, unable to keep the strain from his voice. "If I could do it, I would. I cannot."
"You should overcome your fears," Pruebas said, his voice calm. It was, Culebra knew, the closet his brother ever got to
being gentle. Pruebas was an ass, but he was trying to help in the only way he knew.
Unfortunately, his way failed abysmally. All Pruebas did was make it painfully obvious which of them had always lived safe
within the walls of the palace, loved and adored, and which of them had been shipped off frequently because his country
was afraid. Which one of them had endured anything but a pampered life.
It had always struck him as amusing, for if anyone should have been spoiled and pampered, Culebra always thought it
would have made more sense to tuck away the blind prince and keep him happily oblivious. Not that he wanted that, but he
wondered if perhaps doing so would have made life easier for everyone.
Not that his brother was completely pampered - no, Pruebas knew how to work hard. He was just obnoxious and
insufferable about it.
"Pruebas, we have been over this before. Do not make me bring it up again. Please…"
"I am saying only that perhaps you should consider trying again. You were good at it. You enjoyed it. Hiding away here will
not make the fear abate."
"You did not have to listen to them scream," Culebra said, voice dropping to a whisper. "You did not smell the blood, the
fear…you did not hear the mermaids. They hate those of us who live on land. I could hear it. I will not go on the ocean
again, Pruebas. That my brother continually asks it of me…"
"I want what is best for you."
"You want what is best for you," Culebra said bitterly. "Whether or not the Black Rose take me does not concern you - your
only concern is that they not do it where you might be seen in a poor light. You are going to keep me locked up in this
castle so that nothing happens to me that might reflect poorly on you. I'm a burden, so far as you are concerned. Life was
easier for you when I was kept in other countries."
Pruebas started to speak, but Culebra pressed on, raising his voice to drown his brother out. "So you have taken my
ceremony, my freedom, have threatened to take away my 'horrid' pets -are you next going to tell me that Corinos is no
longer my bodyguard?"
"By all means keep Corinos," Pruebas said.
Culebra almost smiled, to hear the frustration that slipped into Pruebas's voice. His brother had never gotten along well with
either of his bodyguards - Granito for being too flamboyant, Corinos for being too…bodyguard. Nothing kept Corinos from
doing his job…and as he too often reminded Culebra, he had very personal reasons for protecting him.
Now was not the time to get distracted by those thoughts. He'd made his decision.
Of course, not being able to leave the palace was going to make things slightly more difficult. He had been planning to meet
the man who would help him get away at Isabella's old church. They had arranged to meet to finalize everything today.
"When does my confinement begin? I had planed-"
"Today of course," Pruebas cut in. "Now, if you don't mind, I-"
"Have better things to do," Culebra interrupted in his turn. "Of course. I bid you good day, brother."
"That is not what I meant," Pruebas said sternly.
"It amounts to the same thing." How depressing. He hadn't even gotten a chance to eat.
He wasn't terribly hungry anyway.
"I will see you later," Pruebas said, sounding annoyed…and Culebra thought even weary, but he couldn't say for certain. He
understood his brother about as well as he could see him. The door closed with a click, leaving him alone in the sun room.
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He remembered vaguely when his parents had been in this room. The way his mother laughed at his father's awful jokes…
the way they argued over the various matters of court, his father's not so secret love of scandalous gossip…he and Pruebas
had not been allowed in here often, as children, and so had enjoyed their few rare visits.
Somehow, the warmth of it had died with his parents. All he felt now was a slight chill. Pushing his chair back, Culebra
turned slowly and walked in the direction of the door. His hand, when he reached out, landed on cool wood, and he slid
down until his fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the door handle.
When he opened, he stopped just outside, and held out a hand that Corinos immediately grasped. "Lunch did not go well,
Highness?"
"How could you tell?" Culebra asked. He started to protest the hand that slid around to settle at the small of his back, the
way Corinos gently pulled him closer, but in the end remained silent.
He didn't, however, relax, or let Corinos pull him too close, leaving them standing awkwardly close in the hallway. It would
be so easy, too easy, to just close the remaining space between them and let Corinos hold him…
Reminding himself that he was doing all this for Corinos, Culebra pulled away and forced himself to act as he should. "My
brother has confined me to the palace. He has also informed me that my birthday has been cancelled."
"What?" Corinos's voice turned sharp, and something in Culebra eased to hear the slight hint of anger, because some part
of him had feared that Corinos had something to do with the decisions. His bodyguard was the living definition of thorough -
he would do whatever he thought necessary to protect his charge.
"You didn't know?"
"Of course I knew of the reports, most of them come to me before they ever reach his Majesty…but I did not suggest such
measures, Culebra." That he used his name demonstrated just how stung Corinos was by the question.
Wholly without his permission, Culebra's hands reached out to soothe in apology. "I know you wouldn't. I'm just…" Utterly
miserable, but he wouldn't say that aloud. It was no one's problem but his own if he wanted to sulk over the fact that he
would not get to enjoy his birthday this year.
He'd felt like a prisoner ever since his sight was taken away. Being confined to the palace was not really so awful. He had
Corinos and his snakes, and he would figure out how to adjust his plans to run away. Until then, he could wait and do as he
was told.
Calloused fingers brushed across his cheek, and Culebra's breath caught. He pulled away, though it took effort. "Don't touch
me so, bodyguard."
"Culebra…"
"Don't," Culebra said tightly. "Just don't."
"I'm simply supposed to stand by and do nothing while you drown in misery? Why will you not let me-"
"Because it's a bad idea."
"No, it's not," Corinos said softly. "You're just too hard on yourself."
Culebra said nothing, merely turned and began striding down the hallway. He stiffened when Corinos caught up with him,
hand falling into place at the small of his back.
"Are you returning to your room, Highness?"
"Yes," Culebra said, striving to keep his tone indifferent. "My plans to go into town have been cancelled."
They fell silent as they continued walking, broken only as Culebra responded to the greetings extended as they passed
people in the hallway. No one stopped him to speak, or even lingered over their greetings, merely did exactly what was
necessary and hurried on. He wondered how long they waited until they started whispering.
Back in his room, Culebra moved immediately to the fireplace. His room was a large, long rectangle. At the furthest end was
a balcony. Right now, with the cold, both the glass doors and the heavier oak were closed and locked. Even in the heat of
summer, Corinos preferred that. Luckily, Culebra could overrule him on a few things.
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On that end of the room was a sitting area. He had no need of a writing desk or bookshelves, so it was merely filled with
lounging chairs, a deep sofa, all manner of soft, textured pillows and blankets. Many a summer night he had dozed off while
listening to the crickets, or to the music spilling in the windows from one of the myriad festivals or parties.
In the center of the room was his bed, with wardrobe and dressing table tucked into a small alcove that Corinos hated
because it would be simple for someone to hide there. His bed was large, with heavy drapes that he kept tied back unless
the nights were especially chilly. Corinos had told him everything was blue, black, and silver.
His favorite part of the room, however, was the fireplace. Set well back from it was the small table where he usually ate, and
where he kept his bowl full of things that were interesting to touch, play with. More than anything he missed being able to
read and write. He could still play music, though these days he seldom felt inclined, but otherwise the playthings in his bowl
were all that kept him from going completely stir crazy.
Closer to the fireplace were large floor pillows, an idea he'd imported from Kundou. Those were spread out over a deep,
soft fur rug that had been gifted to him in Pozhar. The snow that hit Pozhar was worse than he'd ever known anywhere else
in the world. It was endlessly amusing that the Firelands knew better than anyone what the word 'cold' meant.
As often as he dozed off by the balcony in the summer, he fell asleep beside the fire in winter. "Corinos."
"Yes, Highness?"
"Have a meal brought. Soup, I think. Tell everyone I am not to be disturbed the rest of the day. Send a note to my brother
that I will not be at dinner." He hesitated a moment, and then gave a mental shrug. "Some music would be nice, I think.
What is the weather like, Corinos?"
"Dreary. Fall is not conceding gracefully to winter. I think there will be a frost tonight. Shall I summon a musician to play for
you, Highness?"
Culebra shook his head. "I do not prefer the stiff music of the court musicians. They are too used to pleasing crowds."
Meaning they played the sort of music that was easy to listen to or ignore in favor of conversation.
"Yes, Highness," Corinos said, a smile in his voice.
"Thank you," Culebra said quietly, and turned to stare into the fire so as not to give away his own smile.
Corinos was first and foremost a bodyguard, but once upon a time he had shared the duty with Granito - though they were
both nearly always present no matter which one was technically on duty at the time. Their mother had believed firmly in her
sons learning more than the 'manly art of solving every problem with violence.' Granito had learned to carve - had, in fact,
made many of the objects which filled Culebra's bowl. Corinos had learned music, and was quite proficient with an
instrument unique to Piedre - the guitarra. He kept his instrument in Culebra's room, as he seldom bothered to play it unless
Culebra asked.
Culebra settled himself more comfortably on the rug, stretching out so that he lay with his arms and head on a pillow, his
right side toward the fire. He listened as Corinos sat down nearby - probably sitting so that he could see Culebra, the door,
and the balcony - and began to tune his instrument.
"What would you like to hear, Highness?"
"How about one of those harvest songs?"
"As you wish." Corinos played a few notes, checking the strings, getting comfortable, and then slowly fell into a steady,
rhythmic tune, ideal for singing while working. Every now and then Corinos would hum or sing along with his playing; he
wasn't a great singer, but Culebra would much rather listen to his voice than even the most cultured of the court musicians.
The heat and music tried to lull him to sleep, and he was sorely tempted to give in - then he felt a familiar slithering along
his leg, up to his back, until it stopped to coil up between his shoulder blades, head resting on one shoulder. Culebra
laughed softly. "Hello, beauty. Come to enjoy the music, too?"
Nearby, Corinos snorted softly. "From the look of her, Highness, it is not the music she is enjoying."
"Enough, Corinos, please."
Corinos sighed. "Yes, Highness." He shifted from one song into another, the second tune a winter song, slower, softer,
almost sad, a song of everything vanishing in the cold and snow.
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Something about the tune bothered him; always had. He did not like the idea of something being lost like that. Vanished. It
wasn't right. Nothing vanished. Winter hid it for a time, but spring always came. "A different one, please," he managed.
"Of course," Corinos said, shifting into another harvest song.
Culebra relaxed, letting out a soft sigh. He hated when his thoughts spun out of control. Sometimes it felt as though there
were two different minds in his head. Perhaps there was. He didn't feel like dealing with it, however.
Corinos sang softly as he played, and Culebra focused on his dark sugar voice, letting it drive away all those thoughts he
didn't want to deal with.
Chapter Four
The pounding had him up and moving before he was even awake, sword drawn and body tensed to attack whoever was
intruding.
A heartbeat later Corinos realized someone was knocking hard enough on the door to break it down. He yanked it open
and snarled at the servant - then realized the young guard was already terrified enough by whatever had driven him to
pound on Culebra's door in the dead of night. "S-sir. His Majesty demands to see his brother immediately."
"Why?" Corinos asked sharply, unable to come up with any positive reason Pruebas would demand such a thing.
"Murder," the guard replied. "A snake fatally bit Lady Marcela."
"Ridiculous." Culebra's voice was sharp and cold as he appeared beside Corinos, hair mussed from sleep, robe only loosely
pulled on. "My snakes would never kill anyone. Tell my brother I will be there as soon as I can."
Corinos did not give the guard a chance to reply, closing the door in his face and immediately going around the room to light
a few lamps, then to the wardrobe. Pulling out clothes, he strode back to where Culebra waited by the bed. "Highness, what
do you think could have happened?"
"I do not know," Culebra said grimly, "but my snakes are not responsible. Pruebas will love having this as a reason to finally
get rid of them. Let him try." He reached out and stroked Ruisenor as the snake reared up to rest her enormous head on his
shoulder. "Shhh, my beauty…all will be well for the little ones."
"She is troubled, Highness?" It would never fail to amaze him how Culebra understood snakes…how accepting he was of
that ability. Snakes had once been revered in Piedre, but that had ceased with the death of the Basilisk, when no one was
certain whether or not their god could be trusted.
He tried not to stare at the way Culebra's long, elegant fingers stroked the blue-black scales of the enormous snake. "Of
course. She…the other snakes look up to her…sort of in awe. They have never known another like her."
"Has she never told you what she is?"
"She doesn't remember, I think," Culebra said slowly, thoughtfully. "I have never been able to tell for certain." He smiled
faintly. "She approves of you, you know. She would not let you touch her otherwise. You should do so more often."
"As you wish, Highness," Corinos said, lifting one brow as the snake turned her massive head toward him. He shrugged
and reached out, his much rougher, calloused hand nowhere near as fine looking against her as Culebra's. "I don't know
why I appeal."
Culebra smiled sadly but did not reply.
Oddly enough, the sad smile cheered Corinos up. In his mind, there could only be a handful of reasons such a possessive
snake - and it was obvious Ruisenor considered Culebra to be hers - would bother to 'approve' of someone. At least, he
hoped.
He knew, on some level, but Culebra was always fighting it wasn't he? Always pushing Corinos away…
Though he wanted badly to push it, he knew to let it be. "Here, Highness. I've chosen just black breeches and a white shirt."
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"Simple is best," Culebra agreed and obediently stepped away from Ruisenor to let Corinos dress him. He sat down once
his clothes were on so that he could tug on his boots.
Corinos tugged him up once he was finished, unable to resist letting his hands linger just a moment too long - then he
grabbed the jacket he'd set aside and helped Culebra into it. "Come," he said, and settled his hand on Culebra's back to
guide the prince as they traveled quickly through the halls.
Eventually they reached Lady Marcela's room. Inside waited Pruebas and three guards.
"Culebra," Pruebas said icily.
Corinos wanted to punch him. He hated when Pruebas spoke that way - as if Culebra were to blame for everything. He
knew most of it was simply that Pruebas was as intimidated by his brother as everyone else, but with the doubly difficult
position of being both king and his brother. The three year difference and Culebra's uniqueness had kept the brothers from
growing close as children…and the gap seemed to widen every day.
He stifled a sigh and shoved the thoughts aside. Right now, there were other things to focus on.
"Pruebas," Culebra said. "What has occurred?"
"One of your wretched pets has killed Lady Marcela."
Culebra frowned. "My snakes would not do that." He suddenly knelt and extended one arm - from beneath the bed slithered
a golden-brown snake. It immediately wound up and around Culebra's arm, finally settling like a loose scarf around his
neck. "This snake did not kill her. He is not even one of mine - until now. He was taken from the woods and brought here…
they fed him a poisoned mouse to keep him sedated long enough….he was placed here."
"How do you know all that?" Pruebas demanded.
"He told me," Culebra said softly, head turned in the direction of his brother. "Snakes don't lie."
Pruebas sneered and Corinos bit back another urge to wipe it from his face. Truly, he always tried his best to bridge the gap
between the brothers. Pruebas had his good points….his bad points just frequently made the good hard to remember.
To avoid punching Pruebas, Corinos took another look at the snake twined around Culebra, confirming what he'd seen at
first glance. "Majesty, what his Highness says aside, that snake could not have bitten and killed Lady Marcela."
"Oh?" Pruebas asked, clearly not believing him.
"There are many old volumes detailing the types of snakes that live in Piedre, as once our country held them quite dear. I
have studied the volumes extensively, in order to know the creatures which his Highness loves, and am quite familiar with
them. That particular snake could not have killed her because it is not venomous."
Culebra murmured softly and the snake moved down his arm again, rearing its head and opening its mouth as Corinos
continued to speak softly.
"See its teeth? Not the fangs of those who kill with poison. Nor does it have the glands which hold the poison. This snake
strangles its prey."
Around them, the room fell silent.
"Yet there are bite marks on the neck," Pruebas said stubbornly. "Nor is there anyone but you to say this snake is not
poisonous."
"If you want to see a poisonous snake," Culebra said, matching the cold tone his brother had earlier used, "I will be more
than happy to call one for you."
Corinos moved toward the bed to examine the corpse, one eye on Culebra. "Was the room thoroughly searched?" he asked
the guards, not taking his eyes from the body.
Lady Marcela had been a beautiful woman, one of those who only grew more beautiful with age. She had a sharp wit that
she'd never been afraid to use. No husband, more lovers than anyone could count. She had admired the Dowager Queen
immensely. How sad that someone had killed her…
The bite marks were low on her right forearm…they did indeed look like a snake had attacked her…but it made no sense. It
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was stupid. Absurd. Whoever had done this clearly had not bothered to learn anything about snakes first. Foolish.
Suspicious. Corinos frowned and began a more thorough examination, shifting aside the heavy braid of her hair, examining
her dark skin, her nightdress. He threw aside the blankets and dispassionately opened the robe, ignoring the shocked,
offended gasps from the guards. "Who found her?" he asked - but didn't hear the reply as his gaze landed on the inside of
her left thigh. A tattoo.
Of a white rose in full bloom. His breath hissed out between his teeth. "She bears the mark of the Brotherhood of the White
Rose."
"What!" Pruebas said, almost bellowing. "That is not possible."
Corinos looked to the guards. "Out. Guard the door."
"Yes, sir," the guards said hastily, all but fleeing the room at his sharp tone.
"How would you know it's not possible?" Corinos asked. "Majesty?"
Pruebas rolled his eyes. "How do you think it's possible, Corinos?"
Corinos kept his expression blank. It was no concern of his who the king decided to bed…though he wondered what sort of
lover failed to notice such a detail. "The tattoo is not recent, Majesty."
"Well, she certainly didn't have it, oh…three months ago?"
"I see," Corinos said thoughtfully. "That only creates more questions. I would prefer to have answers."
"As would we all," Pruebas said with a grimace. "As to answer your earlier question - the shortest of the three guards you
just frightened from the room was invited to Marcela's room tonight. He slipped in a little while ago and found her dead, or
so he says. Given his state, I am inclined to believe him. He fetched two of his friends, and they opted to fetch me, given the
nature of the killing. I had them fetch Culebra."
Culebra had remained silent during the discussion, simply listening and cuddling the snake in his arms. "What else do you
see, Corinos?"
"The bite looks like a snakebite," Corinos said, "but I don't see how anyone could expect the deception to last long with you
in the palace. No snake of that size would ever bother attacking a full grown woman in her sleep. They'd be far more likely
to invade her room for a particularly juicy mouse…and there's no need when food aplenty is available in the sanctuary. This
murder makes no sense."
"No other signs of death?" Culebra asked softly. "There is a strange smell in the air. Faint, sickly sweet."
Corinos frowned. "I do not smell it."
"Guide me to the bed," Culebra requested, holding out a hand.
Immediately Corinos moved to take it, tugging Culebra close and guiding him to the side of the bed. He noticed the way
Pruebas recoiled when Culebra bent down over the body and breathed in deeply.
Pruebas would never be comfortable with his brother, and that ensured that no one else would be either. Did he not realize
that? No one knew the extent of the antagonism between them, but everyone knew there was something unhappy, and that
made everything worse for Culebra.
Problems for another time. "What do you smell?" he asked.
"Sickly sweet, very faint…here…" Culebra reached out carefully, but with confidence in the action he was taking. His fingers
landed on the tattoo of the white rose.
Corinos immediately reached out and snatched his hand away, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping off Culebra's fingers.
"You just touched her tattoo. It could be poisonous. We need to wash your hand."
"It won't kill me," Culebra said quietly. The certainty in his voice was chilling - he said it the same way he had once told
Corinos that his snakes would kill on Culebra's command.
"Be that as it may, Highness, I would be happier if you washed your hand."
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"As you wish," Culebra said, and Corinos stilled in surprise that Culebra would use his own words. He tucked it away to
ponder later, and led Culebra to the washstand near the bed. He dumped out the water already in the bowl and poured
fresh from what remained in the pitcher, then handed Culebra a clean towel from the shelf below. "Here, Highness."
Culebra taken care of, he returned to the bed and contemplated the tattoo. He wiped it with his handkerchief, which he then
held to his nose. There is was. A faint, sickly-sweet smell. Poison that could go through skin…he had, of course, heard of
such things. Not in relation to the Brotherhoods, however. Still, things changed over time. Was this something the White
Rose had done? A trick of the Black Rose? That seemed far more likely…though that still left far too many questions. He
heaved a frustrated sigh. "This is explaining nothing. Majesty, I would say-"
"I know what to say," Pruebas said coolly. "I will keep everything as quiet as possible; I expect you to figure out what
happened and why someone desired to frame my brother."
"Yes, Majesty," Corinos said.
"It is time to go then," Culebra said. "I know you are king, Pruebas, but that does not mean you may order my bodyguard
around. Investigating what happened to Lady Marcela risks taking him away from his first duty, which is protecting me. In
light of our conversation this afternoon, that seems an exceptionally stupid thing to do."
"Watch your tone."
"Oh, I was most careful about which tone I used," Culebra retorted. "Corinos is mine. If you want to give orders, fetch the
guard you should be dismissing for consorting with a courtier."
Pruebas's tone was condescending as he replied, "If I did that, I would have very little staff left, my naïve little brother."
"If you dismissed them, the rest would be more inclined to behave."
"Now is not the time," Corinos cut in sharply. "Highness, I think we are ready to return to your room, if that suits you."
"It suits me fine."
Corinos bowed to Pruebas, who ignored him, and guided Culebra from the room. "Thank you, Highness."
"He should not speak to you so," Culebra said. "He has thousands of guards and other staff who are fit to investigate a
murder with complete discretion. He had no business snatching away my bodyguard."
The possessiveness went a long way toward soothing Corinos's mood. "I also thank you, Highness, for helping me
determine the cause of death. I could not smell the poison until you pointed out where it lay."
Culebra shrugged. "My senses are acute, especially my sense of smell…" His voice dropped to a thin whisper. "Especially
where death is concerned."
"Highness," Corinos frowned, wondering what Culebra really wanted to say. Something was bothering him. Pressing him on
it, however, would only guarantee the prince remained silent. "Your new snake is quite lovely. Golden-brown, thin…some
sort of larger garden snake, I believe. Did you want to take him to the sanctuary?"
"No. I think I'll keep him in my room tonight." Culebra frowned. "It is my turn to thank you, Corinos, for so quickly pointing
out how ridiculous it was to think this snake killed anyone. He obviously wasn't going to listen to me."
Corinos ran his fingers in slow circles along the small of Culebra's back. "No one will take away your beauties, Highness. I
think if he tried, your brother would only find his own room flooded with them night after night until he permitted them to
return to the sanctuary."
Culebra threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing down the silent halls. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but
his chuckles still did not abate for several more minutes. "That would be a fine sight, to see snakes flooding Pruebas's
chambers. My brother would have an apoplexy. Can you imagine his face should he find Ruisenor in his bed?"
"I think we would discover just how fast his Majesty can run," Corinos said with a soft chuckle of his own. It took every last
bit of his willpower not to stop them right there in the hallway and taste that laugh, that smile. So rare, to see Culebra happy
or amused, and he liked being the one who had done it. His hand tightened unconsciously where it lay against Culebra's
back.
"So what are your thoughts?" Culebra asked as his laughter finally faded.
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"I think whoever tried to make it look as though your snakes killed her did not expect us to realize the tattoo was the cause.
It was glaringly obvious a snake did not kill her…but without your nose everyone would have seen no other cause of death,
and the snakes would have been blamed regardless. I cannot see the reasons, and that is frustrating. Not once have I ever
suspected Lady Marcela of such things. It is rare for any of the nobility to dirty their hands by getting involved with the
Brotherhoods…at least to the point that they wind up dead in their beds.
"Now I am curious as to why she was fond of Isabella…and why she slept with my brother."
Corinos grimaced. "I do not think we need to wonder, not if she truly was a White Rose." He opened the door to Culebra's
room as they reached it.
"It makes me wonder who else I know has joined leagues with the Brotherhoods."
Corinos hesitated, then sighed and closed the door, then turned to face Culebra. "The priest you've been working with to
run away was a Black Rose."
Culebra froze. "You knew."
"Of course I knew," Corinos said quietly. "I am your bodyguard. It is my duty. I love you. I would not let you run. Not from
me." He reached out to take Culebra's arms.
The prince jerked way, recoiled, retreated to his bed, sitting down hard, arms going immediately to the massive snake that
looped once around his waist. "You knew this whole time," he said, voice hard with accusation. "When were you going to tell
me? When it all came down around my ears and I was left looking like a fool? Hoping to teach me a lesson, bodyguard?"
"No," Corinos said sharply. "Do you think it made me happy to learn that you were trying to run from me? That you cared so
little about all I have ever offered that you would simply vanish in the night? Why, Culebra? Why do you constantly hide and
run from me? I know you love me."
"Stop it!" Culebra said, nearly shouting, burying his head in his hands. "I can't. You shouldn't. I have said it a million times, it
is a bad idea."
"Why?" Corinos demanded. He strode to the bed and pulled Culebra to his feet, heedless of Ruisenor, who merely
unwrapped herself from Culebra and coiled up in the bed. Corinos tightened his grip as Culebra started to struggle. "Why is
it a bad idea? Do you trust me so little? Have I not made it clear a thousand times that I love you? That nothing about you
repulses me? I have always tried to be here for you, Culebra."
"Who ever said I didn't trust you?" Culebra said bitterly.
"Culebra…" Corinos sighed and let go of his arms, sliding hands over his shoulders and down his spine, wrapping his arms
around Culebra's waist, ignoring the prince's continued protests. "I have said before you will not kill. Do not tell me you
believe the foolish curses. I have lived this long."
"Of course I don't believe in what everyone says. I know how I am and am not cursed. Let me go."
"I will not," Corinos said softly. "Not until you see reason."
"Reason?" Culebra laughed sadly, half-wildly. "I have plenty of reasons. My parents. Isabella. G-Granito. All of them."
"You did not kill them."
"I may as well have," Culebra said.
Corinos frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Let me go, Corinos, please."
It was the desperate 'please' that made him, the wrenching, desperate plea too startling for him to think to refuse. "Culebra,
what is wrong? You are not responsible for their deaths."
Culebra immediately moved away, arms wrapped around himself as if in an effort to ward off a chill. "I knew they were going
to die, though…except Granito. I didn't sense his death, not until too late. I always…smell it. Feel it. Months before it
happens."
He tried to process what Culebra was saying and could not. Surely not. No one could bear such a burden. "You…can sense
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who is going to die? When?"
"Not when. Not exactly. Just whether it is months or weeks or days away." Culebra licked his lips. "I only ever told Isabella.
She asked me…I told her yes…"
"Granito?" Corinos asked.
Culebra shook his head furiously back and forth. "When we left here - nothing. Being away from Piedre always…dampens
everything. We were in Kundou for months, and my….power…goes dormant there. So too in Pozhar. On the journey home,
I did not sense it until we woke when the mermaids attacked."
Pain lanced through Corinos as he realized just how deeply Culebra's suffering ran. "Culebra, why did you never tell me…"
"How could I?" Culebra said, backing away as he heard Corinos moved forward. "How could I tell anyone? Do you know
what it's like? To know that someone is going to die but not being able to say? Not being able to do anything? If people
knew…they would expect me to change things. I can't do it. I can't!" Culebra backed up into the door, then slid to his knees.
Corinos ached to help him up, to hold him close - but he sensed that to do it now would not help at all. "You've tried."
"No," Culebra said, and Corinos felt a sudden chill. Something about the prince's voice had suddenly changed, as quickly as
that. It was firmer. Deeper. "To tamper with lives so is to go against the decisions we made. My power is not to be abused
so. I sense death. Nothing more."
"Highness…"
"Back to Highness?" Culebra asked sadly.
It made Corinos blink, stare. The prince he knew stood before him, no sign of the strange moment present.
"Every day I wake up fearing I will smell death on you, Corinos. Do you know what that would do…"
"Culebra-"
"Leave me alone! I am going to my sanctuary. Do not disturb me." With that, Culebra yanked open his bedroom door, then
slammed it shut behind him.
Corinos let him go, for once, frowning in thought. He sat down on the edge of Culebra's bed, slowly processing all that the
argument had revealed. At least now he understood the reasons for Culebra's reticence, the way he constantly fought
against what was between them.
As usual, Culebra had been attempting to fight all his battles alone - and a burden as heavy as sensing who was shortly
going to die was something no person should have to endure.
Except that one chilling moment that Culebra seemed not to recall had made it crystal clear that Culebra was no ordinary
person. Far more than the deadly eyes of the Basilisk resided in him. He wondered if Culebra realized it.
He wondered what it meant.
More than any of that, he wondered how he was going to convince Culebra that none of it mattered to him…though it wasn't
about him, was it? Culebra had all but said he could not bear it to someday smell death on Corinos. Didn't he see, though,
that keeping his distance only made everything worse?
Let Culebra have some time to himself, amongst his snakes. He would fetch him in a few hours and they would work
everything out. Somehow. Corinos tensed as a ponderous weight wrapped around him, and then he found himself staring
into the hooded eyes of Ruisenor. "Lady…" he said cautiously, slowly lifting up a hand, tensing as a long, forked tongue
flicked out. Then Ruisenor leaned ever so slightly forward, nudging his hand, and he slid his fingers over her head, down
her shining blue-black scales. After a moment, the snake bobbed its head, then turned and slithered away from him toward
the fire, curling up on the fur rug. She looked for all the word like the gigantic shadow of some strange, unseen creature.
Corinos shook his head, tired from all that had happened that night, and grabbed his sword before moving to join Ruisenor
beside the fire. He would force himself to wait a few hours, and then go fetch Culebra. His safety was not an issue - no one
went into the sanctuary. They would not dare.
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Chapter Five
Culebra cursed himself for being stupid and weak as he stalked through the halls of the palace. Why had he broken down?
For so many years he had kept his darkest secret from everyone but Isabella. Now because of one stupid argument, he
broke down and told the one person he'd least wanted to know?
He couldn't believe Corinos had known of his plans the entire time. It made him feel a thousand times stupid. Trapped.
Well, fool him for thinking he could ever get away. He should have known better. There was no escaping what you were
born into.
Not true part of him whispered. Gave it up so there could be choices…
He shook his head in a desperate attempt to clear it of the strange, echoing thoughts. They had no place in his head.
Wasn't he enough of an outcast?
Loneliness…
With a snarl, Culebra turned his thoughts elsewhere. Scales and Teeth, there should be only one voice in his head! He
should not have to share space with a dead god. He sternly ignored the voice that tried to remind him that he was, to some
degree, the dead god in question. For reasons unknown, the reincarnation of the Basilisk continued to be born. Some said
there would come a day when the true Basilisk would finally return…Culebra wished he would hurry up and do it and stop
whispering in his head. His own voice was already more than he could stand.
The air in the hallways was chilly. He sorely regretted stripping out of his jacket - though at the time he'd had no idea he
would be leaving again. Thankfully the sanctuary would be nice and warm…and well away from everyone and everything
that hurt. Culebra counted steps and turned, reaching out his fingers to touch - yes, the candelabra that should be there.
Only a few more turns and hallways.
He tried to ignore the silence that surrounded him, trying and failing to convince himself that he wasn't waiting to hear the
sound of a familiar tread, a familiar jangling of sword and belt. He most certainly wasn't waiting for a certain warm hand to
land upon the small of his back. The very last person he wanted to see right now was Corinos, who no doubt was horrified
at what Culebra had just told him. Forty paces to the end of the hall and his hand fell upon the handle of his sanctuary.
Breathing a soft sigh of relief, Culebra opened the door - there was no reason to lock it - and stepped inside.
Immediately his head was flooded with noise, his snakes more vocal and excited than he had ever heard them. He gasped
as he sorted out what they were telling him. Snakes didn't communicate as people did; they conveyed thoughts more as
smells, impressions, for they could not see as most creatures. It always took him a moment to sort out what they were trying
to say. When he finally realized it, he checked thrice more and still could not believe it. "There is someone here."
A voice laughed, and Culebra drew a sharp breath.
He'd never heard a sound like it. The voice was…rough, almost broken sounding. It was as if something had ruined the
stranger's ability to speak properly. Cautiously Culebra moved forward, reaching automatically to pet all the snakes that
twined up and around him, half-listening as they cautioned him on where not to step. "Who are you? How is it you come to
be here? Why are you here?"
"You are early, Highness," the stranger said, and Culebra was more convinced than ever that something had happened to
almost completely ruin the speaker's ability to use his voice. "I did not expect you until morning; that is when I was told you
always visit."
"It's been a long night," Culebra said slowly. He came to a halt not far from the voice, realizing its owner must be sitting on
his rock. "You're in my seat."
A soft chuckle. "My apologies, Highness." Movement, the scuff of leather on rock, the jangle of a sword belt, boots in grass
and then a firm, leather-clad hand grasped Culebra's elbow and helped him sit.
It was interesting, refreshing, the confidence and assurance with which the speaker acted. He didn't hesitate, or ask if
Culebra needed help - simply gave it without thought. Also without being annoying, condescending. He was simply matter of
fact. "Comfortable, Highness?" the stranger asked, and Culebra could hear the teasing note in it.
"You may sit with me, though I sense I should have long ago summoned guards."
"You probably should have, but at this hour there are none even remotely close to this place." The stranger sat down beside
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him, and Culebra could feel the heat pouring off him. So many smells clung to him, it was hard to sort them out…cigarettes,
sweet cigar, horse…the outdoors in general.
Culebra nodded in agreement, not bothering to say that if he wanted the stranger dead, all he had to do was indicate as
much to his snakes. "How is it you can sit so comfortably in here? No one ever comes in here. They fear what the snakes
might do."
"True predators only kill when there is a need. I am not at all appetizing, and I've caused them no harm. Nor have I harmed
you. They've no reason to attack me. Simple as that."
"So few understand that," Culebra murmured, running his fingers along the half dozen snakes that had curled about him,
with still more close by. "I have tried to explain that, but they never listen…"
The stranger laughed again. "That is a pity. You have a fine collection here. So many lovely creatures. Some of these even
I have not seen, and my travels have been extensive. I saw one that had orange and red markings, somewhere in Verde. I
could not tell you if it was a true snake or one of the blasted Highlanders, but I do know I did not like the look of its teeth."
Culebra's lips twitched. "I believe I have one of those. You should be doubly grateful that it has no interest in human prey,
for it prefers to stun its food and eat it while the heart still beats."
"I am doubly grateful, then, as you say. What of that bright green snake in your lap?"
"Do not startle it," Culebra murmured, his fingers easily finding the snake in question, knowing it from the other one in his
lap. "They strike quick, and the poison kills quicker still."
That rough, near-broken voice laughed again. "A fine collection of assassins you've got here, Highness. I am glad you have
not yet chosen to sic them upon me, which I sense you could."
"Who are you?" Culebra asked. "What do you want?"
"I'm…a jack of all trades, you could say. I think mercenary is the popular term. I have been quite handsomely paid to kidnap
you, Highness, and deliver you to my current employer."
Culebra nodded, feeling a calm fall over him. "Who paid you?"
A laugh. "That would be telling, Highness. Anyway, I do not know. I took the money and agreed to the job."
"I always thought a kidnapping would be more…"
"Violent? Messy? Highness, messy and violent would not get me very far. Besides, my investigations have led me to believe
you didn't want to be here, anyway. That plays to my favor."
Culebra frowned. "I can't go yet. Not like this…Corinos…" He didn't want to leave while there was still the argument
between them. Before his plans had come crashing down around him, he had planned to leave on a positive note. He
wanted Corinos's last memories of him to be positive. He didn't want Corinos to think he'd run off while there was still
unhappiness between them.
"Your bodyguard?" The stranger said. "I'd rather not involve him, Highness. He would force me to violence, I feel certain,
and I would really be happier to avoid that. I've heard a great deal about the fierce wolf that guards the Basilisk Prince. I do
not think I would win…but I do not think he would win, either, Highness. Though of course your snakes would get me well
before I could get him…but I think that my employers would just send others after you. I do not think your snakes will catch
them all."
He didn't want Corinos hurt. Not because of him. He'd tried his whole life to spare Corinos what pain he could. Even when
the stupid man didn't realize it. He'd already cost Corinos his brother… "You really are a merc," he said. "I don't want
anyone hurt." He paused. "I've never met a mercenary before, but I sense that very few of them are anything like you."
"People rarely know what to do with me," the stranger agreed lightly. "What brings you here at this hour, Highness? I did not
expect you until morning."
Culebra frowned and restlessly petted his snakes, nuzzling into the one curled around his neck. "The night is filled with
unhappiness. I came here seeking solace. Corinos…" He shook his head, furious that he was explaining things to a
stranger - to his kidnapper. "If you are going to kidnap me, grant me one boon."
"Depends on the boon, Highness."
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"Make it clear I was kidnapped."
There was a silence, and Culebra could tell his words had startled the man. "Very well, Highness. Just know that if your
bodyguard comes after us, I will have to take appropriate measures. It would be better for him if you appeared simply to
have run away." He stood up and then a hand wrapped around Culebra's arm. The snakes slithered away, suddenly
anxious. Culebra silently soothed them. He stood as his kidnapper tugged him up - but tripped on a fleeing snake and
stumbled up against him instead.
He froze as shock coursed through his body. Hastily he drew back, feeling his cheeks heat as he pulled his hands away
from where they'd landed on his kidnapper's chest. "Y-you're a woman!"
"I will forgive you, Highness, for not already realizing. Men with all their senses available - though in my experience men
have very little sense at all - do not immediately realize I am female. To give them credit, only my chest gives it away most
days. I…have led a colorful life. It has left its mark upon me." A wry laugh. "All over me."
Culebra could feel his cheeks burning. "I did not mean to…"
The kidnapper laughed again, and Culebra went completely still, shocked beyond belief as she ruffled Culebra's hair. "No
harm done, Highness. I assure you that you are not the first to take a tumble into my bosom. At least you did it by accident."
She ruffled his hair again.
"Stop that!" Culebra said, pulling away.
"Yes, Highness," the kidnapper said, clearly amused. "Fidel hates it when I do that, too."
"Who is Fidel?"
"My partner. He's waiting for us just inside the forest with some rather fine horses."
Culebra grimaced. "Horses."
A soft chuckle. "You will be riding with me. Fidel has our supplies."
"Where are we going?"
"That would be telling. I will tell you it is some distance away, and not an area even I frequent. You are not really dressed
for travel…lucky for you I did not think you would visit your sanctuary dressed for a long journey."
Culebra almost laughed, and was horrified with himself. He was being kidnapped, nothing should be amusing. Nor should
he feel so comfortable with a woman who so casually spoke of kidnapping a royal prince, so lightly of using violence should
Corinos get in the way…who he had mistaken for a man. "Such a thoughtful kidnapper," he replied, trying to sound caustic,
wincing as he realized he only sounded amused.
"Merely efficient," the kidnapper replied. "I don't think I'd get my money if I delivered you frozen."
"You won't tell me anything about why this is being done?"
"To be honest, Highness, I don't know myself. My job was to kidnap you and meet the ones that want you at a certain
location. I don't ask more questions than is strictly necessary. Too much information is as deadly in my line of work as too
little. Now here." She stepped close and Culebra heard the swoosh of heavy fabric cutting through the air before a heavy,
wool cloak was draped over his shoulders and fastened about his throat. A deep hood was tugged up over his head, and
then leather gloves were pressed into his hand.
"Why are you being so…congenial?" Culebra asked.
He had the impression she shrugged. "I find it goes further, when there's opportunity to employ it. We both know I don't
need to be; I would have taken you by force if necessary. I'd prefer we keep things…congenial."
"I don't want anyone hurt," Culebra said. "I'll go along with you if it keeps the peace…but know that if you do anything to hurt
me, I have my own ways of protecting myself."
A firm hand settled on his arm and began to guide him away from the rock, toward the back of the sanctuary. "I know,
Highness," she said, sounding almost gentle. "While you are in my keeping, no harm will come to you if it's within my power
to prevent. This is only a job to me. Whatever you choose to do after I've delivered you is wholly up to you. I will neither
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help nor hinder. As I said before, it is patently obvious that had you wanted me dead, I would not be having this
conversation. Your beauties clearly adore you, and would do anything for you. I can see it is only because of you that I am
still standing."
"Yes," Culebra said softly. "Let us hope you have not stirred Ruisenor. She only listens to me when she feels like it. I could
not say with confidence that I would be able to keep her from killing you."
The hand on his arm tightened, and then his kidnapper laughed softly. "I think I would like to meet this Ruisenor, Highness.
A strong-minded woman always holds well with me, even when she wants me dead. Wait here a moment." She let go of his
arm, and Culebra listened as she fumbled with something - the wall, he realized. She was doing something to the glass. He
heard the clink and scrape as she set glass to rest against glass, and then the cold air of the coming winter was rushing in,
biting hard. "My snakes," he said. "The cold."
"All will be well, Highness," his kidnapper soothed. "I kill nothing unless I absolutely must." Taking his hand, she led him
through whatever opening she had cut in the class, and he listened, shivering, as she did something to the glass once they
were outside.
"What did you do?" he asked. "How did you get in and out?"
"The glass is just large panes set into wooden frames. I teamed up with a group of men in Pozhar once, working a job for
someone, and they taught me a couple of tricks involving getting past glass without making a huge mess." She laughed
softly. "That was a fine trip, that one." He listened as she stood and walked away, moving to what sounded like…bushes,
and then he heard as she strapped things into place, settled them on her person.
"All right, ready to go. The half-moon is high and bright in the sky, we have good horses and maybe even food waiting for
us, and there was not a single hitch in the plan." His kidnapper sounded…cheerful. "This job is accomplished several hours
ahead of schedule, and we will be well away before anyone is the wiser." She took his arm and began to lead him away -
then abruptly stopped. "Ah, one more thing. Highness, is there anything beneath that strip of silk covering your eyes?"
"Bandages," Culebra replied. "Do not remove them."
"No worries there," she assured. "I want the bit of silk, though. So they know you've been kidnapped."
Culebra nodded slowly and reached up to carefully untie the silk that covered the tightly wound bandages hiding his eyes.
He handed it over.
"Excellent," his kidnapper said softly, and Culebra listened as she did…something. Then he heard the snap as a bow string
was released, a muted thunk as it landed close by in the grass. "There," his kidnapper said, no small satisfaction in her
voice. "That will let them know that I took you away. Be flattered, Highness, it is not often I leave a calling card." Once more
she took his arm and began to slowly lead him away from the castle. "Careful, Highness. There are rocks and such, and I
will not be able to see them all."
"Thank you," Culebra murmured. They walked in silence, occasional curses breaking the still of the night as he tripped or
stumbled. His cheeks heated with humiliation, but there was no help for it - he did not know the lay of the land, and no one
could guide him half so well as Corinos.
Corinos…Culebra's gut twisted as he thought about how upset his bodyguard would be. He did not doubt for a moment that
Corinos would come after him, would somehow find him, but that would not stop him from being upset. He would all but kill
himself for 'failing' to protect his prince.
There was no reason to feel that way, of course. Of all places, Culebra should have been safe in his sanctuary. Scales and
Teeth, it was where he was supposed to flee if everything went horribly wrong somehow. Corinos…
All he'd ever wanted was to spare him further pain. Corinos deserved better, even if he was too stupid to figure that out.
Now he would worry himself to death, push himself too hard, trying to find Culebra.
It made him sick, to think about how hard Corinos would push himself. Corinos loved him, he knew that all the way to his
bones, and would therefore stop at nothing - and the whole while would be blaming himself. Culebra wanted nothing more
than to reassure him somehow, and he couldn't, and that made everything worse.
Was this how it would have felt running away? This sick twist in his stomach? The heavy ache in his chest? Surely that
would have felt different, because he'd planned on doing it for Corinos. It was his choice. This was against his will. If he
didn't go, there was no telling who else might be sent to kidnap him. Eventually, his snakes would not strike fast enough…
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He thought being free of the castle and the burdens it came with would feel lightening. Instead, all he felt was heavy and
tired. He wished he'd never left his room…never left Corinos. Too late now.
So until his situation changed, he would have to make the best of things. "What is your name, by the way? I know your
partner is Fidel…"
A soft, rough laugh. That broken voice was endlessly fascinating. It was like…smoke and shattered glass. She also smelled
of smoke, as he had only slightly noticed earlier; he could smell both the sharp, pungent scent of a cigarette and the softer,
more appealing smell of a sweet cigar. The scents of grass, leather, and horse mingled with the smoke. Was that how all
mercenaries smelled? "How rude of me. I apologize, Highness. My name is Cortez."
Chapter Six
"Tell me why I shouldn't have you beheaded, Corinos."
Corinos bowed his head low. "There is no reason, Majesty. My head is forfeit. I failed to fulfill the one duty to which I was
sworn." His fingers dug deep into the carpet of the royal throne room. "My life is yours to do with as you see fit. I ask only
that you allow me to retrieve his Highness first. His loss was my mistake, and I would like to fix it."
Gone. He still could not believe it. Just two hours ago he had gone to the sanctuary to retrieve Culebra, so certain they
would finally resolve the problems that kept them apart…only to find him vanished. Not a single clue as to how it had
happened, save for the arrow which pinned a strip of silk to the ground just outside the sanctuary. From Culebra's eyes.
"Tell me again what happened, Corinos."
Corinos nodded and slowly recounted all that had transpired. "His Highness was understandably upset after the events of
last night, and that led to an argument between us. His Highness decided he wanted to be alone in his sanctuary, and
forbade me to follow him there. I thought to give him time to calm down, and so waited a few hours before going to retrieve
him. This has happened before in the past, and there were guards enough in the hallways to protect him on his way to the
sanctuary."
"You are to guard him at all times," Pruebas said coldly. "That means you remain by his side no matter what. You let him go
because of an argument? Sloppy, bodyguard, very sloppy. Your father was one of the best; we had been led to believe his
sons were trained to his level of skill. I do not care whether my brother is in a snit or not, you are supposed to stay with
him."
Corinos let the implied insults wash over him. Pruebas understood nothing, and so his recriminations meant nothing. "I am
also to follow his orders," Corinos said slowly, eyes fastened on the carpet. "He has always been safe within his sanctuary,
Majesty. Not even you, his brother, will venture into it. What little evidence we have gathered indicates he was taken from
within his sanctuary and away into the forest. There are signs that a campsite was made a mile or so into the woods,
obviously waiting for the return of the kidnappers."
Pruebas's lip curled. "So they were obviously lying in wait. They knew he would be there, though you claim he only traveled
there so late because of an argument - and an argument about which you are being remarkably vague."
"Majesty, I will not discuss private matters. The argument is for Culebra to relate or not. I cannot recount it without revealing
information he would not want shared. As to them knowing…Culebra visits his sanctuary every morning, usually for a few
hours. It is my belief that they intended to snatch him then. He rises early, which means there would have been plenty of
dark under which they could have snuck away."
"The only flaw with your reasoning, Corinos, is that if they had done it then, my brother would have called for help."
"No, Majesty," Corinos said softly. "I do not believe he would have." Culebra insisted on being stupid and stubborn about
everything. Given a choice, he invariably chose the most difficult route, usually for obscure and foolish - if well meant -
reasons.
"You are his bodyguard. Why would he not call out to you for help?" Pruebas narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "I should have
gotten rid of you years ago, I think. I never approved of you or your foolish brother."
Corinos tried to summon patience, truly he did, but after spending all night miserable only to find his entire world gone, he
was not in any way in the mood for dealing delicately with Pruebas. Especially after hearing his brother insulted. That was
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more than he could take. "He would always call for me, Majesty. His Highness trusts me implicitly." He loves me. "I gather
your Majesty has never bothered to notice the despondency which wears constantly at your brother."
"Despondency?" Pruebas asked. He rolled his eyes. "You exaggerate. My brother lives a life of leisure, and there is not a
single person alive who would dare to cross him other than the Brotherhoods from which you have utterly failed to protect
him."
"Scales and teeth, Majesty!" Corinos stormed to his feet. "Are you so lost in your own world that you notice nothing that
pertains to your own brother? He is miserable, Majesty. He has no friends, his only family can barely stand his presence,
and everywhere he goes he is chased by rumors that he is a curse, that he is the reason people die. He could do nothing
more than listen as his best friend was killed and devoured by mermaids. Every single day of his life is spent enduring fear
and loathing. You who should most support him instead ignore him as much as possible. The only comfort he finds is in his
sanctuary. If someone wanted him kidnapped, he probably went along with them to spare the rest of us further trouble. He
went because he does not feel his own brother would care if he were gone or not." Corinos glared at Pruebas. "That is why
he would not have called for help."
When Pruebas said nothing, Corinos turned sharply around on his heel and strode from the throne room. He needed to
track down Culebra, not waste his time here.
"Seize him," he heard, and spun just in time to punch the closest of the guards that came after him. He drew his sword as
the other guards moved in on him. "I am going to find Culebra," he said to Pruebas, never taking his eyes from the guards.
"When I return with him, Majesty, you may do to me as you see fit. I accept full punishment for my failure. However, I will
not be kept from saving Culebra."
Pruebas shook his head. "Forget it, Corinos. You are going to be imprisoned as…"
Corinos frowned, confused as Pruebas's voice trailed off - then he watched as the faces of the guards visibly paled. Then
they dropped their swords and stumbled back, clearly desperate to get away from…whatever was behind him.
Having a sneaking suspicion he knew what - for only so many things could cause that level of panic - Corinos sheathed his
sword and turned around. "Ruisenor," he said softly, and held a hand out as the snake reared up. He stroked the slick
scales of her head. "Shall we go find our prince?"
"What in the name of all that is holy is that?" Pruebas asked, voice trembling.
Corinos barely kept back a smug expression. He had not acted so when first he'd seen the giant snake - and he had
discovered it sleeping with Culebra. Pruebas said Culebra lived a life of leisure. It was blatantly, pathetically obvious which
brother was soft and pampered. "This is Ruisenor, Majesty, the snake most dear to Culebra's heart. Isn't she beautiful?"
"She's hideous," Pruebas said. "A monster. No snake should be so large."
"She is beautiful," Corinos asserted. In the pomp and glitter of the green and silver throne room, Ruisenor looked like a
shadow come to life, blue-black scales gleaming like dark jewels. "We are leaving. I would suggest not trying to stop me,"
he said, expression hard as he stared at Pruebas. "Do you recall what I said about the snake from last night? About it
strangling its prey?"
"Vaguely," Pruebas said, clearly ready for Corinos to be gone.
"Ruisenor here is another example of a snake that strangles its prey rather than poisoning it. She is big enough, however,
and quicker than her size would make one think, that she could strangle a human with very little effort." He let the warning
hang in the air as he turned and left the throne room. That Ruisenor would probably not be able to swallow a human was
something they did not need to know. Let that stalk Pruebas's dreams in his absence. Perhaps when they returned, he
would be more inclined to be more civil, if not kinder, to Culebra. Honestly, he did not know how Granito managed to deal
with Pruebas as he had. Especially given that of the two of them, Corinos had always been the more patient.
Outside in the hallway, he ignored the gasps and strangled screams as waiting courtiers caught sight of Culebra's fearsome
companion…calling her a pet just did not fit. "Beauty, I will meet you just outside the sanctuary…somehow I think you know
where I mean."
The snake angled her head up at him, then dropped completely to the ground and slithered across the room. If she noticed
the way people screeched and panicked as she passed, she gave no indication. Corinos laughed softly, and felt every so
slight better for it, before finally turning and making his way to Culebra's room.
Once there, he wasted no time in gathering everything he would need - he had stopped maintaining his own room not long
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after Granito died. He went there only to clean up and change in the mornings, and that only to indulge Culebra's need for
alone time. Everything of importance he kept in Culebra's room, close to hand.
Everything went into either his own bag, to be slung across his chest, or a set of saddlebags he'd ordered brought to him
earlier. He took his time only to make certain he balanced the weight of them. His heavy winter gear he would not need
quite yet, though a sturdy cloak was definitely necessary. Food for several days, so he was not forced to stop and hunt…
was there anything else?
His hand went to his jacket, slipping inside to a hidden pocket. He pulled out a thin strip of shimmering, dark blue silk. It was
wrinkled now, from much handling and being stuffed into his pocket, but not too long ago it had covered the bandages
around Culebra's eyes. Corinos loved to see the prince in dark blue. It complimented his pale skin, made his hair look like
frosted silver…
With a rough sound he shoved the silk away again and threw on his cloak, then hefted his bags and strode from the room.
In minutes he was at the stables, two grooms waiting patiently with his horse - a mare specially trained for the work involved
with being a bodyguard. She would be able to make the long journey, endure the weather as it worsened, and wouldn't
suffer as quickly when she had to bear two people instead of one.
"Come on, Tenaz," he said softly, nodding to the grooms before he led her away from the stables. He petted her nose and
settled the saddlebags into place, then swung up into the saddle and turned her in the direction of the sanctuary. "We have
a prince to find, girl. Do your best for me."
He tried desperately to focus on the task at hand, but despair clawed at the back of his mind, pushing to the fore every time
he dropped his guard.
Culebra had let himself be taken away. As near as he could tell, he hadn't tried to fight the kidnappers at all. There was no
sign of a struggle - there was not even any indication of how the kidnappers had gotten in or out. They must have gone
through the palace, but he did not see how they would have gone unnoticed…then again, the number of halls and back
ways….but he was so careful about making certain they were always watched. Nor did it explain how they had gotten into
the sanctuary. No one went in there. He didn't go in there, even with Culebra.
Had their argument driven Culebra to such action? Had he been so desperate to get away, so upset Corinos had ruined his
plans that he'd taken the opportunity offered by the kidnappers? Surely he wasn't that foolish.
This was all his fault.
If only he hadn't driven Culebra away. He should have kept his mouth shut. Patience was the key when dealing with
Culebra, patience to outlast his stubbornness. Never mind that he'd let Culebra go off on his own when he should not have.
Scales and teeth, how could he have done this? Now Culebra could be anywhere, with no one to help him, guide him…the
strange smells and sounds would drive Culebra insane. Corinos closed his eyes and fought back the panicked despair that
was trying to consume him.
He would find him. He would fix things. If he died doing it, he would see Culebra returned home and made as happy as
possible. Though that would be hard to do, as Pruebas was probably more eager than ever now to take his head off.
Stupidity, obviously was catching. Instead of curing it in Culebra, he seemed to have caught it from the prince.
Shaking his head, Corinos shoved the doubts and panic away and forced himself to focus. Letting his thoughts get the best
of him would not find Culebra any faster. All right. Culebra had obviously gone peacefully. He slid from his horse to kneel on
the ground to more closely examine the trail that remained.
Either the kidnappers - kidnapper at this point, for there were only two sets of tracks in the mud and grass - were simply in a
hurry, or they were over confident, to leave such an obvious trail.
Perhaps a little of both. If his supposition that they had planned to take Culebra in the morning was correct, then they would
not have had time to cover their trail. Therefore, they had to be quite confident that they'd be able to get well away very
quickly. When Culebra appeared way ahead of schedule, their chances of escape greatly increased. So there was no
reason to cover their tracks at this point.
He looked up as movement caught his eye, and nodded in greeting to Ruisenor.
No doubt the trail went cold not far into the forest…but he would be willing to bet the kidnappers had not anticipated a giant
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snake would be tracking them. Scales and teeth, he had not anticipated Ruisenor would be helping him. "We have to find
him," he said softly, and moved to mount his horse as the snake suddenly took off slithering away across the field toward
the forest.
Far faster than he thought a snake should be able to move, but where Ruisenor was concerned the usual rules did not
seem to apply. Corinos urged his horse forward, and in mere minutes they were swallowed by the dense forest.
Several hours later, the sun setting fast, he was forced to call a halt. Ruisenor could probably continue for hours yet, and he
would gladly let her if it meant someone - something - he trusted would be close to Culebra.
He was grateful for the snake's presence all the same, as she came slithering out of the trees to find out why he had
stopped. Too tired to eat more than the dried meat and tack in his saddlebags, Corinos used the last of his energy to light a
fire and then laid out his bedroll. He rolled up in his heavy winter cloak and stared up at the sky. Clouds were gathering,
obscuring the stars, and a lifetime spent in Piedre told him they brought bad weather…in another week or two, there would
probably be snow. That meant that in a month and a half, on Culebra's birthday, there would likely be snow.
Of late, he'd been too busy to look at the sky. Once they'd done it often. With a sigh, he recalled the reason they no longer
took late night walks around the palace.
"It's crystal clear tonight, Highness. Not a single cloud anywhere in the sky. The stars look as though they go on forever."
"I can feel it. The air is crisp, sharp. Do you think there will be snow soon?" Culebra said, shivering slightly.
Frowning in concern, Corinos tugged him close and wrapped them both in his own large cloak. "You are cold. We should go
back inside."
"Inside is noisy. It's peaceful out here. I'll be all right for a bit longer." Culebra smiled faintly. "If you can protect me from
assassins and kidnappers, bodyguard, surely you can protect me from the cold."
Corinos growled at the challenge and looped his arms around Culebra's shoulders, dipping his head to brush their cheeks
together. "I would protect you from anything and everything, Culebra. You know that."
"I know," Culebra whispered, and turned his head, putting their faces so close together their breaths mingled. "You're
wasted on me, Corinos."
"No, Highness. I was meant for you," Corinos said quietly, unable to resist closing the final bit of space between them,
sliding his mouth across Culebra's, immediately enthralled at the softness of his lips, the warmth of his mouth, still flavored
with spiced wine.
Culebra hummed softly in pleasure, pressing closer, and it was all he could do not to drag the prince straight back to his
room and bring to life every last illicit thought that constantly tortured him.
"Culebra…" he murmured the prince's name softly when the kiss ended, and reached up to stroke his fingers across the silk
covering his eyes, over the far softer strands of his hair. He bent his head to steal another kiss, unable to believe that
finally-
Then Culebra jerked away, cold air rushing in between them, and Corinos could see by the set of his shoulders that the
prince had made the mistake of allowing himself to think. "We should go back inside."
"Cul-"
"It's cold," Culebra said stiffly, though Corinos could hear, practically feel, the sadness in it. "No doubt my brother is missing
me by this point. There are duties to which I must attend. Please take me back inside."
Corinos stifled a sigh and buried his crushing disappointment. Culebra would see reason eventually; surely the kiss had to
mean that. They were meant to be together, why was he the only one who seemed to realize that? Why did Culebra insist
on being so stubborn all the time? "As you wish, Highness."
Restless, the direction of his thoughts not helping in the slightest, Corinos sat up and stared gloomily at his small campfire.
He should be moving, not stopping. Holding still did not sit well with him at all…but exhaustion would not help in the end.
When he finally found Culebra, there was no telling who or what else he would be facing, and he still had to get the prince
home afterward.
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Nor could he count on Pruebas for help, except insofar as the King would keep matters as quiet as he possibly could. If
there was one thing Pruebas had a true talent for, it was discretion, if only for entirely selfish reasons.
He smiled faintly as Ruisenor settled down to sleep alongside him as she always did with Culebra. "I guess he's the reason
we get along, hmm? I am glad you have not tried to kill me for failing, though I would not blame you, or stop you - unless
you did it before I knew he was safe." Lying back down, he idly stroked Ruisenor's head as she settled it across his
stomach. "It is funny that a few days ago I was still leery of you, and now we are becoming comrades. Granito certainly
never knew what to make of you." He smiled faintly in the dark. "I am glad you approve of me, Ruisenor. Too bad that will
not convince our idiotic, dense prince to let me love him. Though it's just as well, I suppose, given that upon our return
Pruebas will probably wield the ax himself…"
A sudden thought chilled him. Pruebas had as much said he was going to behead Corinos for his failure to protect the
Basilisk Prince. Did that mean that once he caught up with Culebra the prince would know he was going to die?
If that were true…
Not that it really changed his mission. He had to save Culebra. It wasn't about a bodyguard saving his prince. Culebra was
his heart and soul; he had been from the first moment he'd first laid eyes on the melancholy prince. He was all that
mattered…but it would tear Culebra apart to sense that Corinos was going to die. It was that very thing which had led to this
entire disaster.
What a mess. All of it because he had been unable to keep his mouth shut. Why had he not waited? He should have. That
would teach him that his patience could ever use improving. Had his father not said a thousand times or more that patience
was key? Hasty and sloppy wound up in people dead. Obviously the lesson had not taken as well as Corinos had thought.
He had no choice, though. No one else would save the prince, except a snake that a good hunter or two could fell with only
minimal difficulty.
Still…had Culebra been right all along? Was their being together more intimately a bad idea? Was he only causing
everyone, Culebra especially, more pain with his selfishness? Should he let the prince go?
No. He couldn't - wouldn't - believe it. That kiss hadn't been a bad idea - it was the only good one Culebra had ever had,
where they were concerned. Everything about it had screamed that it was right, that it was meant to be. They were meant to
be.
It was only stupid, stubborn Culebra who insisted on seeing it as a bad idea. If he started falling into the prince's way of
thinking, then he may as well give up trying to find him and let Culebra run away.
Which was exactly what the prince was doing, even if he called it kidnapping. The moment Culebra was safe, Corinos was
going to throttle him, then kiss him, then drag him home and tie him down until he saw reason - or at least had no energy
left for protesting.
He really wished his mind would settle enough to let him sleep. Reaching beneath his cloak, into his jacket, Corinos
withdrew the strip of dark blue silk. He pressed it to his lips, smelling ever so faintly the scent of the prince which still clung
to it.
Where was Culebra now? Was he all right? Unharmed? Were they feeding him properly? Ensuring that he did not trip or
fall? Did any of those soon-to-be dead kidnappers truly understand what they were doing?
"If I ask you very nicely, Ruisenor, would you strangle Culebra a bit after we're done disposing of his kidnappers?"
Ruisenor lifted her head the slightest bit, and in the light of the moon, he could see her open her massive jaws - then close
them just as quickly.
His lips curved in a smile. He had a sneaking suspicion Ruisenor had just laughed.
High above in the sky, the moon was only a couple of days from being full. It shone down bright, cold light.
With a sigh, Corinos sat up and began to put out the fire. "I'm not going to sleep, Ruisenor. If you're up for it, I say we keep
going. There's enough light to see by…and you wouldn't need it anyway."
The snake seemed to understand him, though he could not explain why, and moved obediently as he stood up and packed
his things. Mounting his horse, Corinos looked down and reached out to stroke Ruisenor's head as the snake reared up for
precisely that reason.
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Corinos froze, and blinked hard at the ground beyond the snake. Stared hard and wondered if perhaps he was as fit to
travel as he'd first supposed.
He could see his own shadow on the moonlit-grass…but his shadow hand stroked nothing. Where Ruisenor's shadow
should fall, there was only grass and moonlight. The giant snake cast no shadow.
Deciding he must be seeing things, some strange trick of the moonlight, Corinos quietly gave the commands to Tenaz and
led the way from the field. In mere seconds, Ruisenor was out in front of them, her dark, glossy scales shining in the
moonlight.
Part Two
It is not the end that should be feared. Be more concerned with how it ends.
~The Basilisk
Chapter Seven
Cortez sat up with a yawn and winced as she threw back her cloak. Cold. Scales and teeth, she hated working jobs like this
in the winter. Why couldn't anyone ever pay her to do something that involved lots of sitting by a warm fire with a good bowl
of stew and a hot ale?
Snorting softly, she bundled her cloak tight and went to stoke the fire, resisting the urge to kick Fidel awake as she passed
him. Let him sleep a bit longer.
Yawning again, Cortez got the fire going and then started some coffee. A luxury, and they should probably be moving
faster, but she didn't think there was any cause for concern. They had a day's head start and she knew the lay of the land
as well as the animals.
Speaking of animals, she'd have to try to catch a rabbit or three before they all went to ground for the winter. Most of them
would already have their white winter coats, making them easy to find in the brush.
The smell of the coffee shook off the last of the sleep clinging to her, and Cortez took a closer look at their surroundings.
Another day and a half and they'd hit the mountains, and with the moon full, there would be plenty of light by which to travel
at night. Another week and they could deliver his Highness. Two weeks after that, they'd have enough money to hop a ship
and go spend winter in Kundou.
She loved Piedre, she really did - had every intention of dying here, letting her body join the land in which she'd been
raised. There was a lot to be said, however, for a country that only knew of snow from stories of foreign nations. When
Pozhar and Piedre were buried in white, most of Kundou strolled along the beach in nothing more than heavy robes and
boots instead of sandals.
Pouring coffee into her tin cup, Cortez stared thoughtfully across the fire at the man who lay so still when he slept it was
borderline creepy.
That he was presently covered by at least a dozen snakes did not lesson the creepy factor in any way. Snakes didn't bother
her, but in all her travels she had never encountered anyone who slept with the things.
It was rather funny, though, how jumpy they made Fidel.
Cortez shifted her gaze to stare fondly at her partner of going on seven years now. Always with a pang of guilt, a dash of
longing, but always the deep fondness. No one had ever gotten her quite like Fidel.
She couldn't really blame anyone - it only took a mirror to see why she probably wouldn't get her either. Oddly enough,
though, it wasn't the scars that most bothered people.
Oh, they got plenty of attention of their own. There was one that cut along her right eye that had very nearly taken the eye
itself. A nice long set of claw marks on her left from a fight with a stupid tiger in Verde - merciful gods, she hated those
stupid Highlanders - a deep knife wound across her right cheek. The two across her forehead had required stitching. That
had been fun. As in not. Even more covered her body; just about every manner of wound that could be thought up, she'd
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acquired at some point. The burn marks were particularly nasty - especially the last one that had ruined her throat.
However, it wasn't the scars that really seemed to get to people. It was her hair - cut so short that just about everyone
thought she was a man until she removed her bulky jacket and they realized they'd made a slight error.
What was she supposed to do, though? Keep it long so someone could grab it in a fight? That had been scar number one.
Didn't feel like repeating that. Off the hair went.
Finishing her coffee, Cortez refilled her cup and then stood up to wake Fidel. "Up, up," she said firmly, gently kicking the
bundle under which her partner lurked. "Lazy, lazy." She looked away before she accidentally started staring - Fidel was
never better looking than when he first woke up, tousled and scruffy. After this many days of hard travel, neither of them
smelled great, but he still looked good. He had dark, curly hair, the sort she'd wanted badly as a young girl. Her own, if she
let it grow, was lighter and board-straight.
If his parents had not been killed practically before his eyes, Fidel would have become a clerk or something similar, working
quite cheerfully with numbers and letters, ink and paper - he was far too smart to waste his life as a merc…but anguish and
revenge demanded everything from the people that chose to follow them. His scholar's body was now toned, the gentleness
carved down to hard, chiseled lines. He had few scars, only one across his left shoulder and another across his abdomen,
but in some ways those two were worse than her many. She'd chosen the life. For Fidel, it had seemed the only choice.
His eyes were dark brown, the near-black of a true Piedren. Her own, if looked at closely, were actually a very deep blue-
green…the only real trace of her mother's Kundouin blood.
"I know very well you stayed in bed a bit too long yourself, so there," Fidel said, throwing back his cloak and shuddering as
the cold air washed over him. "Scales and teeth, is winter over yet?"
Cortez laughed. "Winter has not yet begun, my friend. Here, coffee."
"Wonderful," Fidel said by way of thanks, accepting the steaming cup she held out and gulping down the hot liquid in
several quick gulps. "Shall we wake his Highness?"
"No need," Culebra said softly, slowly sitting up, snakes slithering and spilling from him. "I do not know how you sleep day
after day in this cold." The ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "The next time I am kidnapped, I believe I will demand
they bring my bed along."
Cortez laughed and filled a spare cup, then moved around the fire and pressed it into Culebra's hand. "Here you are,
Highness."
"Thank you," Culebra murmured.
He really was pretty, which shouldn't surprise her - except it did. The only rumors ever heard about the Basilisk Prince of
Piedre all pertained to his solemnity, his somberness…and his eyes of course. Everyone who had ever so much as talked
to someone who knew someone who knew someone who had glimpsed the prince at his birthday spoke of his tightly
wrapped eyes, and how they stood frozen whenever that head turned in their direction.
Cortez rather thought it was his prettiness that probably stopped people in their tracks, rather than some imagined effect of
his eyes through what had to be at least four layers of heavy linen.
"Drink quickly; we'll have to travel harder than ever to make up for stopping. One person travels a lot faster than three, even
if I know this area better than anyone."
Culebra nodded and obediently drank quickly. Poor kid. He was so obviously used to being shoved here and there. She
hoped whatever the people paying her wanted him for, it wasn't too awful.
Shoving away pangs of guilt - she'd made her choices long ago - Cortez set to work packing up their little camp, tossing
orders at Fidel, who grumbled good naturedly as he complied. Several minutes later they were ready to go, and Cortez
helped Culebra mount her horse before she swung up behind him. Settling an arm around his waist, she signaled the horse
and they were off into the woods as darkness turned to hazy early morning gray around them.
"Could I ask you something?" Culebra said several minutes later, voice filled with hesitation.
"No promise I'll answer, Highness, but go ahead."
"How are you so comfortable with me? Most people, handling a blind person, would do so quite awkwardly. Even your friend
often fumbles…"
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"Ah," Cortez said softly. "My mother started going blind when I was twelve summers or so. Two years after that, her vision
was gone completely. I learned fast how to take care of her."
Culebra nodded and subsided into silence.
Cortez felt something move along her arm and tensed - then realized what it was. "Highness, if you don't mind my asking a
question?"
"No promise I'll answer," Culebra said, laughter in his voice.
"Explain the snakes?" Cortez asked.
"Was that a question or a polite demand?" Culebra asked. "Is she bothering you? I can tell her to leave."
Cortez shook her head, and then rolled her eyes at herself. "Not bothering. I'm just curious as to why they are always
around you."
"They are my friends," Culebra said softly. "They see me as…something of a father or big brother…but also someone whom
they protect in turn. I am a shadow of the One who created them."
"Fascinating," Cortez said, meaning it.
Strange how that simple explanation suddenly made real to her just what exactly Prince Culebra was - the mortal
reincarnation of a fallen god.
That had never meant anything before, not really. It was…too much. Easier to nod, accept, but never really understand. She
knew of the lost gods as well as anyone, and knew all the stories of how they had been returning, how things seemed
different now. None of that really struck her, except in a distant way.
To hear Prince Culebra speak so casually of the snakes loving him because he was the shadow of a god…to see evidence
of that…and of course the bandages. If she didn't watch it, those bandages would stir her curiosity and drive her mad. "Are
your eyes truly deadly, then?"
"Yes," Culebra said. His voice was calm, steady…but there was a chill there that shook even her. "I woke one morning and
greeted the girl who used to bring my coffee…she froze in her tracks and could not move for almost a month. My eyes were
bound immediately."
The mercenary in her could not help but note how useful a trick something like that would be. To kill merely by looking…the
rest of her chilled at such a thing, and she wasn't easily frightened.
It made her wonder what her employer wanted with him. Prince Culebra was, of course, worth a pretty ransom. If she kept
him and ransomed him herself, she could retire and live the rest of her life in the heart of Kundou.
That sort of thing was never worth the trouble though, even with a ransom as fine as Prince Culebra's would be. She
remembered the smelly, sour man who had hired her…she didn't think ransom was the game here. The slimy bastard had
screamed 'dancing monkey for some rich lord' and no rich lord would waste his time - or risk capture - for mere money. No,
there were more effective black market ways to earn quick coin.
No, she had a sneaking suspicion this had to do with things she'd left behind years ago. Cortez swore she could feel the
mark burning, on the inside of her right thigh. More than once she'd almost just cut the thing away herself; one more scar in
a hundred wouldn't make a difference.
Fidel kept her from doing it - not that he knew, of course. No, he never would. He was the whole reason she'd gotten out of
that part of her life. Every single day, the black rose she'd let them tattoo into her skin reminded her that Fidel could only be
her partner in crime.
She never should have joined that stupid cult - but that was an old recrimination, an old regret. No point in dwelling upon it
now.
Except she wondered if she'd be seeing old 'friends' again when the journey ended. It was a worry she'd shoved to the back
of her mind until now, focused only on the money the job could bring, on how to go about kidnapping Prince Culebra.
The rest of her attention had been focused on the fact that she'd have to walk into a room full of snakes - and hadn't she
played that nice and cool - and then on getting away.
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Now, as the reality of all that Prince Culebra was struck her, so too did the reality of who would want him and why.
Well, she knew who, anyway. Not necessarily the why. Her greatest problem with the Black Rose was the same problem
she had with every group - all they wanted was power, authority.
Why everyone wanted to be the one another group would come along and knock down was beyond her. She wanted a nice
home, a few friends…Fidel…
Honestly. The Black Rose had spent most of their time annihilating threats, securing their position before making their final
move - this one, she supposed. Her information that the prince was trying to run away had come from a former black rose
like herself. There were not many of them.
If the Black Rose was behind this, she doubted they realized just who exactly their nasty little goon had hired to play fetch.
They would want nothing to do with her, but 'Cortez' had nothing to do with 'Fuerza' - she'd made certain of that.
How deeply was she digging herself into trouble this time?
That would also explain why Fidel had been unusually cooperative in going along with the plan. Normally, schemes like this,
he berated her for a week straight at least. She had wondered at his brief two day yelling spree.
She slid a look at her partner, who ran a bit ahead of them, his horse not weighted down by two people. Later they would
switch. For now, however, she got to admire just how fine Fidel looked on a horse…that backside.
When she'd first 'met' Fidel, he had been little more than a kid - she hadn't been much better, really - and would have been
the cutest thing ever if she hadn't just helped the Black Rose kill his parents.
They'd met again, years later, when they'd teamed up for an assignment. It wasn't until three assignments later, when they'd
grown comfortable with each other, that he'd told her how he'd gotten into the mercenary business. Then she'd realized who
he was.
She should have told him the truth. She couldn't. Fidel was the first person she'd met that seemed to understand her. Nor
did he mind her less than feminine appearance - scales and teeth, more than a few would say her less than human
appearance. Not that she worried much about how she looked anymore, there wasn't much she could do about it, but it was
nice that someone actually looked favorably upon her.
It was, of course, entirely fitting with her life that the one man who wanted her was the one she couldn't, in good conscience
- and she did have one, at least a little bit - ever approach. Just as well, probably. She was still hoping Fidel would be smart
enough to get out of this life, while he still could.
She really hoped she was wrong about who was paying her to kidnap Culebra. If not…she feared Fidel might do something
stupid. Really stupid. Fatally stupid.
Fidel suddenly stopped, his horse rearing up as he pulled hard at the reins.
"What's wrong?" Cortez asked as she drew up alongside him.
"Nothing at all," Fidel said calmly. "Idea just struck me suddenly. Road splits up ahead."
"Yes…we're going left. North to Aldea Azul, then up the Azul mountains."
Fidel rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know. I thought I'd go the other way, toward Aldea Molino. Even as fast as we've been moving,
Cor, it's a miracle he hasn't caught us." He slid his dark eyes pensively to Culebra. "If there's anyone following us at all."
Culebra merely smiled and nuzzled the snake that brushed against his cheek. "Corinos is following. He would sooner die
than let anything happen to me."
"Devoted bodyguard, eh?" Fidel asked, clearly amused.
"He loves me," Culebra said softly.
"What's your big plan?" Cortez asked, getting them back to what they should be discussing. It was almost painful, the
confidence with which Prince Culebra said that. She wished…
Fidel blinked at her, obviously confused, then shook his head. "Oh. I thought I'd go into Alino Molino, get some more
supplies for the mountain - but if he's managed to follow our trail so far, then maybe I can confuse him a bit. It would make
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sense, to go into town. It's not like he knows we're going up Azul. If he's following. One person travels a great deal faster
than three. Even with our head start, he should have caught us by now."
"Not necessarily," Cortez said patiently. "We don't know when this Corinos set out, or if he has others with him - we know
nothing, Fidel, and so we must assume nothing."
"Fine, have it your way," Fidel said, holding up his hands. "I am going down into Morinos. I'll do what I can. I'll meet up with
you."
Cortez quirked a brow at him, but said nothing. "Don't get into too much trouble. I can't save you if I'm stuck in the woods."
"Yes, Madre," Fidel said tolerantly.
"Not funny," Cortez said, swinging a light punch at him, clipping his shoulder and making Fidel laugh. "I'm not that old, you
rock head."
Fidel threw his head back and laughed, then winked at her. "No, you're not - and for your age and temperament, Cortez,
you look pretty good." Before Cortez could reply, Fidel was gone, racing off down into the valley below them and away
toward the horizon, where smoke could just be seen curling up toward the sky.
"Idiot," Cortez muttered. "Looks like it's just you and I, Highness."
"Your friend chases death," Culebra said softly.
Cortez froze. "What does that mean?" she asked sharply.
"I…I'm not certain," Culebra said slowly. "He…he does not smell of death but…it clings to him all the same. As though he
follows it…or perhaps it follows him…" Culebra hunched his shoulders, almost as if trying to hide himself. Cortez had never
felt a body so knotted with tension as the one in front of her.
His words chilled her…and confused her. "You can…smell death?"
Culebra said nothing.
No. That was not playing fair. Cortez tightened her arm around his waist. "Highness, you cannot simply say something like
that and then say nothing."
"I am the Basilisk Prince of Piedre," Culebra pointed out calmly. "I can do whatever I want."
"You are my hostage. You do as I say."
"Or else what?" Culebra asked, and Cortez could feel the belly of a snake as it slid across her arm.
"The pretty prince plays dirty," Cortez said, and laughed briefly. "Tell me what you meant, Highness. Your words are
disconcerting. I never heard rumors that you could predict death."
Culebra laughed sadly. "Given that the last time I told someone that secret, I wound up getting kidnapped, you would think I
would learn to keep my mouth shut." He sighed. "It is just as I said - death clings to him, but it is not coming from him. I
know what it feels like, smells like, when someone is going to die. He does not carry that scent. Death surrounds him all the
same."
"Fidel's parents were murdered over a decade ago." When she'd been twenty-three. Fidel had been only fifteen. "He's been
looking for their killers ever since." She sighed and clicked her tongue to the horse, turning it to the left as they raced off
down into the valley.
"No good ever came from revenge."
The words were said as gently as Prince Culebra said everything else, low and calm - but there was an underlying strength
to them. A wisdom that she didn't think the prince would have.
Cortez wished she'd been the one to go into town; a nice, strong ale sounded like the best idea she'd had in a long while. "It
is, Highness, on that I agree whole-heartedly. Do you think that would stop your Corinos, whom you say loves you, if you
were to die?"
"Nothing would stop him," Culebra said.
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"I half hope he catches up to us, Highness, I would like to meet this bodyguard who loves you."
"If you hurt him," Culebra said, that strange edge creeping back into his voice, "Nothing will stop me."
Cortez chuckled. "No, Highness, I would imagine not. I have seen a snake strike before. Some of them, they move faster
than the eye can follow. Is it true that some of them eat their prey alive?"
"The one with me now does so…the venom in her fangs paralyzes but does not kill. She likes them that way."
Despite herself, Cortez shuddered. She had taken her share of lives, for various reasons - though never for payment - but it
had never brought her joy. There were men she'd met, who enjoyed it. She did not frighten easily, but those men had
chilled her. There were still worse things she had heard of men doing, and enjoying…but to hear someone as beautiful and
delicate-looking as Prince Culebra say so calmly that the snake he held so gently…slept with every night…enjoyed eating
her food while it was still alive… "At least the snake is honest about it."
She could feel Culebra laugh. "That is very true. Still, snakes only kill to eat. I have never known a snake who killed for the
joy of killing. This one hunts to eat, and she takes pleasure in the dining."
That was certainly one way of looking at it that Cortez had not considered. "I am glad I'm too much of a mouthful for her."
Culebra laughed. "She prefers rats, and I think she once caught a squirrel. That is all her venom is meant to hurt. You
would be annoyed slightly, but nothing more."
"Then I guess I shall have to fear a different snake, should I kill your beloved Corinos."
"It would not be the snake that killed you." Culebra's voice this time was not the calm tone of the prince, nor the one filled
with strength, wisdom. This time…it was as hard and unrelenting as stone.
What would it be like, Cortez wondered, to die from a mere glance. Would it hurt? Would she feel anything? It would
certainly be unique. "I will remember, Highness."
Chapter Eight
Corinos wanted very badly to fall over dead for at least a week straight.
Not, however, until he had wrung a certain neck and tied down a certain prince and paid back every last second of
frustration and aggravation accrued over the past several days. Years.
With interest.
Lots and lots of interest.
By the time he was finished, they'd both be dead for a week straight.
Corinos snarled and shoved away the thoughts that were not helping whatsoever.
Whoever had Culebra knew what they were doing - unfortunately. Even Ruisenor seemed to have trouble finding their trail.
The rain that had begun yesterday ruined what little hope they had of regaining their trail.
It was frustrating in the extreme not to be able to converse with his partner. Oh, he and Ruisenor managed, but it wasn't the
same. He couldn't even bring himself to snap or yell at her, just because she couldn't yell back.
That she could probably squeeze him to death also helped keep his mouth shut.
Irritably, Corinos drew his horse up to the stable of the only inn the town seemed to boast. As small as it was, he was
impressed it even had one. Perhaps it was just close enough to the border with Verde to require it…it was also only a few
days from the Azul mountains. Scales and teeth, he hoped Culebra was not somewhere in that cursed mountain range.
Shoving a coin into the hand of the bedraggled boy who appeared to take his horse, Corinos stomped into the inn and into
the saddest dining room he'd ever seen. He shuddered to think of Culebra in places like this, what he must be eating and
drinking. The prince was used to travel, but not like this. Such things as this would make him miserable - the awful smells,
the unclean feel of the place…the crush of people, and all of it where he wouldn't be able to run away.
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Corinos hunched his shoulders against the despair clawing at him. He had to find Culebra, and worrying himself to death
would not help. Ruisenor had found the trail every other time; she would find it again when the rain abated. Until then, he
would rest where he wouldn't drown and make himself sick - because that would not help him find the prince any faster.
He fell into the first relatively clean seat he saw, carefully not taking too close a look at the table. The table had one other
occupant, across from him and down one, and Corinos spared him only enough attention to determine the man could
handle himself but was no threat. He got a brief nod, returned it, then searched out a barmaid and signaled her for a drink.
"Careful," the man said with a chuckle. "The ale tastes like piss. It makes me wonder."
Corinos grimaced. "Thanks." He pulled out two silver when the girl reached his table. "Bring me something worth drinking. A
glass - make certain it's a clean one."
"Yessir," the girl replied, eyes going wide at both the silver and his commanding tone, then turned and all but bolted for the
kitchens.
"That'll get you knifed around here, stranger. If they see silver, they'll think you're hiding gold."
"Let them try," Corinos said. "I could use a fight." Gold. Ha. He had a royal signet. Flashing that would get him more than
simple gold.
"Here in Morinos, you'll get one." The man nodded to a group of three men in the far corner. "Flash your silver their way,
you'll get one. The one with the beard, though, he'll go for your back."
Corinos threw his head back and laughed. "Friends of yours?" he asked.
The man snorted. "If by friend, you mean they've tried to knife me and wound up out cold? Yes. They tried it twice. I don't
think they'll try it a third."
Corinos glanced at the men in the corner again - two were larger than he, and the other had Granito's compact, sturdy
build. He turned back to the man at his table - much slighter, though too muscled to be truly slender. Something about the
man did not fit with his rough image - if Corinos had to guess, he would say the man was a sword for hire. They always had
that look about them. Yet something about this man did not fit that, though he could not place what. "What did you do to
make them pay attention to you?"
"They insulted my partner. She tends to laugh such things off, but I did not take kindly to it. The second time was just
because I left them in the mud the first."
Corinos laughed. "Perhaps you are the one I should be worried about, stranger."
"Fidel is the name, and you've no cause to worry from me." Fidel extended his hand.
"Rino," Corinos replied. "You seem too refined for this place."
"I go where the money takes me, yeah? Besides, this is a good place to pick up things, if you know what I mean."
Information. Swords to hire. An odd place for it, except that the Verde border was only three days away. He wondered how
many of the room's occupants were ferrets or owls or whatever. Curiosity drove him to look around the room again, but he
saw no one with the tell-tale pale features and pointed ears.
"I could say the same of you," Fidel said idly.
Corinos considered the question and the speaker. "Hunting," he said at last.
"Dangerous business that."
"But profitable," Corinos said.
"Very true."
They fell silent as the barmaid returned with a dusty bottle of something dark-amber in color and a glass. "Bring another,"
Corinos said, and flipped her another silver. "Be quick."
Obediently, the girl returned almost immediately with another glass. Neither of the two was what he'd ever describe as
terribly clean, but they could have been much worse. He filled them both and passed one to Fidel.
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"Obliged."
Corinos shrugged the words away and took a sip from his own glass. Whiskey. Far from the best he'd had, but at least it
wasn't questionable swill. It took care of the chill that clung to him, and eased some of the tension from his muscles. "This
weather is wretched."
"It does rather make travel difficult. I should be leaving tonight to rejoin my partner; she will not be pleased when I show up
a day late." Fidel laughed. "She will be even more displeased that I had a roof and dry floor, while she is struggling outside."
"If I were you," Corinos said with a laugh of his own, "I would perhaps take the long way back to her."
Fidel flashed a grin over the rim of his glass. "Tempting, I assure you. Cor has a mean left hook. The right - you do not
wake up for a good hour or three, my friend. Sadly, I know this from experience."
Corinos winced. "Nothing is worse than a woman who learned how to throw a punch. My mother? We were never late for
dinner, I will tell you that."
"My mother was much the same," Fidel said, and Corinos saw a shadow pass over his face. "Still, my father would do
anything for her." The shadow deepened for a moment, then it was replaced with a smile. "Obviously I have his taste in
women, to be with one who has shown me her right hook more than once."
Chuckling, Corinos refilled both their glasses. "Maybe it's the right hook you like, if you keep getting her to do it."
"Maybe," Fidel said with another smile. "What about you, my fine new friend. Hunting, you said. Hunting a right hook of your
own?"
"Oh, I already have someone. He's just being stupid and stubborn about it."
Fidel nodded sagely. "My right hook, she is much the same. They all come around eventually. So I tell myself."
Corinos smiled faintly, and it was…comforting, somehow, the way Fidel returned it. Like a…kinship, almost. Impossible, but
still. Perhaps in another time or place, they could have been friends. He lifted his glass to his companion and finished the
contents in one deep swallow. "I wonder if I dare find a bed in this place."
"There's an old woman at the edge of town who lets me rent the space above her stable, no questions asked. You are
welcome to share."
Corinos hesitated a moment, then wondered what his problem was - a bed over a stable was by far the best lodgings he'd
had since he'd started this journey. If Fidel wound up being a problem, he could handle it. "I will gladly accept that offer.
Anything is better than the lice-ridden ticking that must infest this place."
"I try not to think too hard about it," Fidel said. "Unless you've reason to linger, I say we go while the rain has abated
slightly."
"Sounds good," Corinos said. He shoved back his chair and followed Fidel from the room, back out into the wet night.
Thankfully, as Fidel had said, the rainfall had slowed to a drizzle. I'll have to come back for my horse."
"I as well," Fidel said. "This way." He cut abruptly between two houses, the narrow passage dumping them onto a smaller
street. Fidel moved quickly, lightly, and Corinos could see he that for all the strength he clearly possessed, Fidel's main
asset was his speed. He bet the man had several knives tucked away, and was more proficient with those than the sword
he wore - though the ease with which he carried the sword spoke of skill aplenty.
Corinos followed silently, attention divided between Fidel and their surroundings. No one seemed to be following them. That
was good. Several minutes later they reached the edge of the little town, where stood an old but sturdy cottage. Fidel
rapped briefly three times on the front door, then twice more, then he motioned for Corinos to follow him to a little stable out
behind the cottage. "Her husband was fond of his horses, so he built this little stable."
It was fairly well sized considering the small cottage - four horses easy, and plenty of room above. Corinos took it all in as
he followed Fidel up the ladder. The stable smelled like any other stable - hay, dust, horse, mingled with the scent of rain
and wet earth. Not entirely unpleasant, though he sorely missed sitting beside Culebra as he slept, smelling only the clean
prince, fresh linen and the crackling fire.
He cut the thoughts off, determined to get some sleep for once and not be kept awake by worry and longing. He would find
Culebra. They would settle matters. All would be well. That was the plan, and he would see it through to its completion.
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Yawning, Corinos laid his cloak out over a support beam, then laid his sword next to where he would sleep. A couple
minutes searching resulted in a couple of horse blankets, one of which he threw to Fidel.
Arranging the hay as best he could, Corinos reached out to assure himself his sword was near to hand, then waited for
Fidel to blow out the lantern and settle down before he finally allowed his eyes to close.
He woke to movement that seemed out of place, and reached soundlessly for his sword. Beside him he could just see the
shadow of Fidel, moving with equal care.
Below them, the strange noises resolved themselves into voices hissing at each other in a poor attempt at whispering.
Fidel slid closer to him, movements perfectly soundless - or near enough with the noise below - and breathed quietly in his
ear. "Round three, I think. Though if they are here for your silver and gold, my friend, I guess it counts as round one. I will
take care of them."
"I will help," Corinos said. He pulled his sword free and slowly stood up - and as a head appeared in front of him, visible
only because his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he reached out and kicked the idiot back.
There was a loud crash as man and ladder fell to the stable floor. Something made a sickening crack, and it was followed
by a quickly muffled cry of pain. Corinos wasted no time, but jumped down from the upper level, hoping his memory of the
stable held up - and landed in the second stall from the left. Even as he heard Fidel land in the next stall over, he was
moving, rushing out into the stable proper, catching one man by the back of his shirt as he tried to flee, throwing him into a
wall, then punching him hard in the gut.
The would-be attacker slid to the ground with a groan and went still. Corinos kicked him hard for good measure.
Silence fell around them, and he turned to see Fidel had caught the last one by the open stable door.
"They're not very good at this," Corinos commented.
Fidel flashed a grin. "They are stupid, and so think everyone else must be just as stupid. As I said, they saw your silver and
thought it must mean you had gold - and by showing it, you proved yourself stupid. They make that mistake a lot."
"I am surprised they're left alive to keep at it."
"No one wants to bother with such idiots. If I kill, it should be for a good reason. If I killed every annoyance…" Fidel
grimaced. "Though, if we want to sleep again, we will have to do something with them first."
Corinos sighed. He felt more rested after the few hours he'd had than he had since leaving the palace, but a few more
hours would be nice. Ah, well. He was rescuing a prince. No time for extra sleep. "I should probably just be on my way, now
that it appears the rain has abated. I thank you, though, for the rest and assistance." Irritably, Corinos reached out and
kicked the unconscious man at his feet in the side.
"Which way are you headed?"
"Up the Azul, I think." Corinos sighed, all his exhaustion suddenly coming back. "It depends on where my prey has gone.
The rain ruined the trail I was following."
"I am headed that way myself, actually," Fidel said, tilting his head in thought. "My dear right hook is meeting me at our
usual spot near the top of the mountain."
Corinos laughed. "A right hook is what you might get, for leaving her to suffer through the rain while you had a nice, dry,
stable."
"My friend, the first thing a man learns when dealing with a woman is when to tell her the truth, when to not say anything,
and when to lie - at least, if he is a smart man. I like to think I am a smart man, at least relatively." Fidel grinned. "She'll
probably find me out anyway, Cor is good like that, but I will try to save my skin."
Laughing again, Corinos lifted the ladder off the man who had tumbled down with it and set it upright again. Scaling it, he
quickly retrieved their things from up above. "Then I guess we should be going. It sounds as though for a little while, at
least, we are going the same way. I…would be glad of the company."
"As would I," Fidel said with a smile. "We are strangers you and I, but I sense we could be friends."
"I sense the same," Corinos said, wishing it was possible. It wasn't, but he would enjoy the company while it lasted. And, he
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would have Culebra at the end of all this. That was worth everything, even a chance for friendship. "Let's go."
Fidel nodded and led the way back to the stables. Corinos flipped the stable boy a few coppers, then mounted his horse
and led the way out of town, going up across the valley and toward the path he knew cut through the mountains.
It wasn't an area he'd actually visited, but his father had known the area well and had told his sons as much as he possibly
could. Corinos had memorized everything. He'd also left Ruisenor around here somewhere, but there was no point in
looking for her. She would find him when she felt like it.
Of course, without her he had no idea where he should be going.
"So which direction are you headed?"
Corinos frowned. "I will have to do some searching, unfortunately…" He sighed and tried to put his thoughts in order. They
could be anywhere. He had no reason to believe, whatsoever, that Culebra's kidnappers were taking him up the Azul.
However, there wasn't much else in this direction. The opposite direction led only toward Verde, or deeper into the woods
until you hit the edge of the Azul Mountains and eventually the coast.
Then again, there was nothing in the Azul Mountains except a few small, scattered villages. Who could say for certain,
though? If he knew what the kidnappers were about, he would not be standing around waiting for a giant snake to show him
where to go.
"Merciful gods!" Fidel cried out. Corinos whipped his head up and around just in time to see Ruisenor drop down upon Fidel
from above, twining around him, knocking him from his horse. If she was bothered by the impact with the ground, she did
not show it.
"Ruisenor!" Corinos dismounted and bolted over to them. "What are you doing, you confounded…" his words died as
realization struck him. Ruisenor had never attacked anyone. She never would, he knew that, unless… "Let him go,
Ruisenor."
The snake looked up at him, then slowly unwound her body from around Fidel, who begun gasping and choking for breath.
Corinos grabbed Fidel by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. "Where is his Highness?"
"W-What?" Fidel asked, blinking at him.
Corinos shook him hard. "Where is Prince Culebra!"
Fidel's eyes widened. "How-how did you know?"
"I am Corinos, royal bodyguard to his Highness. You will tell me where he is or I will let the snake finish what she started."
For answer, Fidel merely kicked out, knocking Corinos momentarily off balance. Swearing, Corinos recovered and threw
himself at Fidel, who had been running for his horse. They wrestled on the ground, neither quite able to get to his sword,
settling for fists and feet.
Finally Corinos got the upper hand, and pinned Fidel down, pulling a dagger and holding it to his throat. Blood from his own
split lip dripped down on Fidel's throat and torn shirt. "You will take me to his Highness, or I will tell Ruisenor to eat you
alive."
"I will die before I give up my partner. I'm not stupid, bodyguard, I know you will kill us both, though it was nothing personal
and we have not hurt your prince."
Corinos frowned, suddenly torn. He had planned to kill anyone who had so much as touched Culebra…but this man was not
what he'd been expecting. There was little point in taking back that he had more than once thought they could be friends,
that they had both said as much.
Scales and teeth, why could nothing ever be simple? It made him tired. Angry.
"I do not kill unless I have to," he said finally. "Take me to my prince, and I will let you both live."
Fidel glowered. "Why should I believe you, given that you have a blade pressed to my throat?"
Corinos grunted, hesitated, then heaved a mental sigh and went with his gut feeling - he didn't like it, but he'd go with it for
now. He pulled back and sheathed his dagger, then hauled them both to their feet. "Take me to my prince, Fidel, and I will
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let you both go. If you try to run, or if you try to keep me from him, I will kill you. Otherwise, you have nothing to fear from
me…because maybe, otherwise, we could have been friends."
Fidel eyed him cautiously, then his mouth twisted in a sad, bitter smile. "Because maybe, otherwise, we could have been
friends. I never liked the plan anyway. It was only because I thought doing so would lead us to the Roses that I agreed to
help Cortez do it. Come, I will take you to your prince…do not let that snake near me. Scales and teeth, that is no snake - it
is a nightmare."
"She will not hurt you now," Corinos said with a laugh. "Not unless you try to trick us. She will know."
"I will not trick you," Fidel said, and mounted his horse, then turned and with a motion to follow, led them away into the
forest.
Chapter Nine
"Awww! Not more rain! For the love of the gods!" Cortez fell into muttering curses, continuing on for several minutes. "I was
just starting to dry out, too," she finished, tone mournful. She sighed.
"Perhaps we will find shelter this time," Culebra said, not managing to convince even himself.
Cortez snorted. "Ha! I do not know the Azul very well, but I know it well enough to know there's no such thing as shelter
outside of the villages and a few cabins we're better steering well clear of. A pity, for a nice bed there is little I would not be
willing to do."
"Letting me go home?" Culebra asked.
"Sorely tempted, Highness, but no," Cortez replied with a laugh.
Culebra laughed with her, unable to help himself. He had not felt this comfortable with someone - minus of course their few
'business' related conversations - since he had last spoken with Nankyokukai. Thinking of his lost, likely dead friend brought
a pang of sadness and Culebra ruthlessly shoved the thoughts away before they could get the best of him.
All around them rain fell in a steady downpour. Luckily the trees caught the worst of it, but there were still far too much of
the heavy, chilly drops beating down upon them. From time to time drops managed to fall just right, missing his cloak, jacket
and shirt, to slide along his neck and down his back. Shivering, Culebra curled in on himself as much as possible, pressing
back against Cortez in search of whatever warmth he could get. The steadying arm around his waist tightened, and he knew
she was expressing sympathy.
"I would kill for a good fire and something hot to drink right now," Cortez said with a sigh. "If Fidel does not bring us a bottle
of something strong and warming, I will take it out of his flesh."
Culebra laughed. "I am certain Fidel has sense enough to know not to come back empty handed."
"You might be surprised," Cortez murmured. "Scales and teeth!" She howled suddenly, and Culebra could tell by her
squirming that rain had slid under her clothes too. As soaked as they were, it was much worse when the rain connected
directly with skin. "We're going to make ourselves sick if we stay out in this much longer."
"Yes," Culebra agreed, already beginning to feel the vague stuffiness that came with getting sick - something that usually
only happened when he played overlong in the snow. Thank whomever watched over hapless reincarnated gods that it was
not yet snowing - he loved the stuff, but only when he had a warm room to which he could retreat afterward.
They subsided into silence, enduring their mutual misery, traveling through the rain, eyes searching in vain for any sort of
shelter. Minutes passed, and Culebra could feel his stuffiness begin to shift into a headache. Behind him, Cortez sneezed
hard enough to jar them both. He listened to her mutter curses, and heaved a sigh of his own.
If not for the cold, he would probably doze off from the sheer monotony of the downpour. He truly would give anything right
now for---
What was that?
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Culebra frowned as the weird…prickling sensation passed through him again. A cold spike of…something lanced down his
neck and spine. He looked up abruptly and stared around the dark, wet forest. Pointed to the right. "There," he said softly,
but urgently. "Go that way."
"What?" Cortez asked, though she halted her horse. "Why?
"I don't know," Culebra said, unable to help the frustration that colored his voice. "We need to go that way, however.
Please!"
Cortez turned her horse the way he pointed. "Lead the way, Highness. Anything is better than this rain. Could I ask what
brought this on?"
"A…a weird feeling," Culebra said, feeling stupid.
"I have heard of worse reasons, and those didn't come from a god." Cortez clicked softly to her horse, encouraging the
mare through the dense forest. "Direct me, Highness."
Quietly Culebra did so, hesitating only occasionally as he struggled to figure out where exactly they were supposed to be
going. He waited, tense, when Cortez stopped with a sudden catching of her breath.
"Scales and teeth…" Cortez said softly, and Culebra was stunned by the sheer awe in her voice.
"What is it?" he asked, unable to bear both the tone of her voice and the strange sensation that made him feel as though he
would soon burst into flame. "Cortez, what is it?"
Cortez suddenly slid off the horse, feet making a squishing sound in the wet grass. Then she reached up and helped him
down, holding him about the shoulders until Culebra gently pushed away, assuring her of his balance. She kept a firm grip
on his arm as she led them away from the horse. "Careful, Highness. I almost did not see it myself - right in front of us,
about six paces or so, is a small pond. It's so covered in moss and debris that I could barely tell it from the surrounding
land. This way."
"Now before us is…a temple. I have only ever heard of them in Piedre. I have been to the ones in Kundou that honor the
Three Storms. In Pozhar they have the great cathedrals…but this…this is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. To
honor…I guess you, at some point."
The awe was still there in her voice, and Cortez wished bitterly he could see the reason for it. "Describe it for me?" he
asked quietly, feeling nothing but the rain, the cold, and the strange, tingling heat that seemed to be burning him slowly from
within.
"It's beautiful," Cortez repeated. "Carved from…marble, I guess, though I've never seen marble like this. Perfectly gray,
like…frozen smoke." She snorted. "Hear me trying to sound elegant. Ha! There are carvings in it, of snakes, people…I think
maybe they tell stories, but I don't know them off hand. The steps are just rough enough to prevent slipping…the doorway is
dark, completely open. I can't see what's inside from here. Shall we go in?"
Culebra smiled. "Would you rather stay out here in the rain?"
"Definitely not," Cortez replied, and gripped his arm more firmly as she guided him toward the temple. "It seems as though
it's a part of the forest…carved into the side of the mountain. Never have I seen its like. Is this truly one of the lost temples
of the Basilisk?"
"Yes," Culebra said softly, the certainty of it thrumming through him, more potent than the strongest Verde wine. Not once,
during all the ceremonies, had he felt an energy like this.
He gasped as his feet landed on solid stone, the strange, pulsing energy in him burning white-hot.
Cortez froze beside him. "Highness? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Culebra managed, and pulled out of her grasp, moving forward on his own.
Images poured like water through his mind, showing him things he knew he'd never seen - the temple, what it looked like,
how it had once looked. Other things filled him - smells, tastes, textures, all of them with the feel of memory though he knew
they couldn't be.
"I have never heard of this place…but I guess it isn't exactly where anyone could get to it."
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"Once, people came from miles around. The road was wide, lined with stone pillars to hold lanterns…" Culebra stopped and
held his hands out, and they landed precisely where he knew they would - upon a set of double doors. The thick, heavy
wood felt as though it were new. Something in him whispered that it always would - the magic that had made them would
not be undone by something so simple as time. He traced his fingers over the intricate carvings; images of the gods - he
could feel the scales of a dragon, twisting through a cloud. The feathers of the Firebird. The delicate wings of the Faerie
Queen. The glass-like smoothness of the light of Licht.
Cortez came up beside him, her body heat warming, voice soothing, drawing Culebra away from things that would leave
him trembling in fear if he allowed it. "They're locked," Cortez said, disappointment in her voice.
Culebra shook his head, and let his hands wander the detailed mural carved into the massive doors. He landed, finally,
upon what he knew was a rosebush and…there.
A soft snick shattered the stillness of the outer chamber, and with a groaning, echoing sound the doors slowly moved
inward.
Rather than dust, mildew, all those awful smells which should be assaulting them - Culebra could smell only roses. Dark,
sweet red, brighter yellow, softer white. His lips curled, but he pressed onward.
"How did you…never mind." He had the impression Cortez was shaking her head, and almost smiled, but he was rather
disturbing himself.
Something brushed along his ankles, cool and smooth, and Culebra's tension eased a bit to know his friends were close. He
wandered further into the temple, trusting to the strange memories invading his head.
The room in which they now stood was long and wide. It was here people would have prayed, made offerings, gathered
simply to talk. Travelers would have sought shelter here, along with the homeless. Further in the back, he somehow knew,
were dozens of small rooms to house priests and whatever wanderers needed shelter. Offerings made by his people went
toward providing the temple residents with what they required.
It was only a moment later Culebra realized what he'd thought - his people.
A shiver ran down his spine. He…he was just a blind prince, now. Not a god. Merely a piece of one.
"This place is amazing," Cortez breathed from somewhere to his left.
"The Temple of Oblivar," Culebra said quietly, crossing slowly to the far end of the room and stepping up onto the altar dais.
He laid his hands down on the smooth marble alter, feeling cold stone and cool silk. Black silk, he surmised, for the coming
cold weather. "There should be rooms in the back, where we can rest."
"Rooms? Beds? Oh, the gods are merciful." He heard Cortez's boots ring on the stone floor, squishing occasionally where
they were soaked with water. "This place looks as though it were built yesterday…"
Culebra let his fingers slide across the silk lying upon the altar, feeling that strange sense of having someone other than
himself in his head. "The Temple of Oblivar is a temple of remembrance. It exists so that those who die will not be forgotten.
Even when the temple itself passes from memory, it stands to remember all those whose names were brought here and
offered in my name."
"I see," Cortez said. "You really are a god, aren't you?"
"Nothing but a memory," Culebra said softly, and let his fingers slide away from the silk. He stepped around the altar and to
the little door beyond it, sensitive fingers immediately finding the tiny catch that opened it - no keys were necessary here, or
in any of his temples. One need only be able to tell where to press, but that was harder than it at first seemed.
The scent of roses washed over them, stronger than ever, as they passed from the main sanctuary into the network of
hallways and rooms behind it.
"This place is enormous," Cortez said. "It must have taken decades to carve everything so deeply into the mountain. All
these pictures, carved into the stone…that would take even longer."
Culebra smiled. "Once, before the gods were lost, magic was common amongst all people. When the gods were lost, most
of the magic left with them. Only the royal family of Kundou, the noble houses of Pozhar, and the Beasts of Verde retained
any magic. These rooms, these walls…" He reached out and ran his hand along the deep, intricate carvings that covered
the walls from ceiling to floor, tracing his fingertips lightly over an image of a great bonfire. "They were made by magic, as
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well as hard labor. It took years of work, but not as many as you might think."
"It's rather eerie, how you know all this."
"Yes…" Culebra whispered, and let his hand fall away. He brushed past Cortez as he continued down the hall, stopping all
the way at the end and pressing his fingers to the hidden button that opened it with a soft snick. The memories invading his
mind told him this would be the best of the rooms, and as he stepped inside he could feel cool stone floor become warm,
deep rug. "Is it possible to be two people at once?"
Cortez laughed, and it was a surprisingly sad sound. "Oh, yes. It is most definitely possible."
"Why do you say that?" Culebra asked, moving further into the room, stripping out of his wet cloak. He dropped down to his
knees on the floor as it turned to cold tile rather than rug, and reached out a hand to feel the grate of a fireplace. He heard
and felt Cortez kneel beside him. His fingers brushed along wood still in the grate, and while part of him had expected it,
another part of him reeled that even something like this remained untouched by time.
"I've got the stuff to light," Cortez said.
Culebra moved back and let her light the fire, ruthlessly ignoring the voice that whispered nothing but a few words would
have been necessary to light the fire. By the grace of my brother Zhar Ptitka. Once, he would not have needed even that.
He shivered and hugged himself.
"Get out of those wet things," Cortez said. "There's bound to be some dry clothes around here. Ah, there's a wardrobe." She
laughed. "I wonder if there's a penalty for impersonating a priest."
Culebra smiled. "I think I have the right to say that you will not be punished."
"I suppose so," Cortez said, laughing harder.
Should it be so easy to laugh with someone who had kidnapped him? Who more than once had said that should Corinos
interfere, he would be dealt with? In a few days Cortez would hand him over to the men who'd hired her and accept
substantial payment. They would never see each other again. That thought should not upset him. He should not be able to
laugh so easily with Cortez when people he'd known all his life could not draw even a smile from him.
Culebra stood and began to disrobe, shunting his thoughts aside for later. Always, it seemed, he had unhappy things to
ponder. He shivered as his skin met air, and stood beside the crackling fire Cortez had made, letting it warm him. He ran a
hand through his hair, feeling the soft, wet strands, and wondered just how much of a mess he looked. His face was still
smooth; for whatever reason, he'd never been troubled with facial hair.
He tried not to think about Corinos, how nice it would be to sink into a bath and listen to Corinos speak, hear him move
restlessly about the room. He definitely would not think about how much he'd always wished he could ask Corinos to join
him.
Though…with every passing day, his reasons for always rejecting Corinos became harder and harder to recall. Lately, all
that played in his head was their argument and the one moment of weakness in the snow.
When he finally saw Corinos again, he was probably going to do something very stupid.
The weight of soft, heavy fabric dropping across his shoulders stirred Culebra from his thoughts, and he slowly pulled on
what he realized was an old robe. Careful exploring, and a few fleeting memories, showed him where small, hidden hooks
fastened it shut down the center. Ordinarily, he knew, there would be much more to the ensemble - but this was more than
enough for now.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Highness," Cortez said, and the laughter in her smoke and glass voice made Culebra
nervous for some reason. "But I can see there is much to you this Corinos would find appealing."
Culebra felt his cheeks heat as her implications sank in. He struggled for something to say, but could only stand and blush.
Cortez laughed again, but even in his embarrassment he could tell it was playful, kind. "I am only teasing you, Highness. It
is rare I get to see such a pretty man."
"What do you look like?" Culebra asked, suddenly curious, and desperate to get away from the subject of his own
appearance. The last time he'd seen himself, he'd been an awkward thirteen year old boy with ugly pale skin and equally
ugly gray hair and eyes. He'd hated looking like a foreigner in his own home.
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The happy laughter faded. "Ah, I am nothing to look upon, Highness. My appearance is as attractive as my voice."
"Like smoke and shattered glass," Culebra said as he moved slowly toward her, reaching out a hand. His fingers landed on
hair, and he tilted his head curiously. "Your hair…it's short. It's as short as mine. I've never known a woman to have hair
like that."
"Long hair isn't practical in my line of work," Cortez said. "My first real fight, I was only fourteen. Man at least twice that
grabbed my hair, which was quite long and nearly slit my throat. I twisted so that he instead only succeeded in nearly taking
my eye." A rough, calloused hand took his own and pressed it to the too-smooth skin of an old scar. "I keep it short now."
Culebra slowly explored the rest of her face, feeling so many scars they took his breath away. "How did you survive so
much damage? Surely this sort of thing should kill a person."
"You might be surprised how much pain a body can endure. People constantly underestimate their own abilities to cope with
pain and injury. I've got even nastier ones beneath the clothes," the laughter returned to her voice, "but I don't think you
want to be exploring those Highness, though I promise I wouldn't take offense."
"Stop that!" Culebra said, cheeks burning anew and he hastily withdrew. "My impression was that you were fond of Fidel."
"I love Fidel dearly," Cortez said. "I just like teasing you. I rarely keep company with anyone so easily flustered. The men I'm
around can barely be civil most of the time."
Culebra felt out a chair and slowly sat down, wishing there was food around but too tired to seek out where he knew it
would be if there was any to be had. "Perhaps you should find different people to spend time with."
"Highness, I look every inch the criminal I am. The only company I'm fit for is the sort that doesn't have enough shame left
to blush. Polite company would take one look at me and have me arrested."
"You could just take me home," Culebra said. "I'd give you a place…" He stopped, and then smiled slowly. "I bet after
Corinos calmed down, he would be the first to suggest you become my second bodyguard…" His smile vanished, replaced
by a grimace. "It is, however, a confining life. Presumptuous of me to assume anyone used to freedom would want it."
A rough hand covered his own, and chapped lips pressed a kiss to his cheek. "No, Highness. I think that's the nicest thing
anyone has ever said to me. Certainly it's the best offer I've ever had. I wish it were possible, because with every passing
day I wish we were not kidnapper and kidnapped. I thought perhaps it was only me."
"No," Culebra said. "It is not. Does that mean you will accept my offer?"
"I wish, Highness. Unfortunately, there are many reasons I cannot - for one, I do not think anyone else would let you."
"Only I and Corinos have the right to say yea or nay. Even my brother cannot reject the choice we make."
"All other problems aside, Highness - there is the matter of the deal I've struck. If my payment is coming from whom I
suspect, they will not simply allow me to turn around and take you home. My life would be forfeit, which is fine, but they
would hurt others as well. I do not know why, now, they have taken such actions - but they would not have taken them
lightly. They will not hesitate to do what it takes to see their plans through."
Culebra sighed. "Which Rose is after me?"
"I suspect the Black. The White Rose have been struggling for years. Very nearly did they reach full strength when the
Black Rose ferreted out where their leaders were hiding and sent a team of assassins to kill them…" She heaved a long,
heavy sigh. "I never understood it, not really. I am nearly forty and still I do not understand."
"Nor I," Culebra said. "One group thinks the god I am a piece of tried to destroy his children. The other feels the Basilisk
saved them. Yet neither group seems terribly interested in me - merely in killing each other, as near as I can tell. They have
not harmed the Basilisk Prince for several decades now."
Cortez snorted. "I do not know about the White Rose, but I know very well the Black hope someday to take control of the
country. Always, the White Rose and the government have managed to keep them in check. Perhaps now they feel they
can make that final move…"
"Hmm…they clearly do not know my brother well," Culebra said. "I wonder if the rumors of gods returning to the world is
what has spurred them." He curled his hand into the one still resting on his. "Are the rumors true? Some part of me says
yes. Especially now that I am here in this temple…"
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He felt Cortez shiver. "It is strange, Highness. Sometimes, you are nothing more than a quiet, melancholy young man. Other
times, you seem very much a god."
"I am nothing but a mortal," Culebra said, feeling that strange mix of emotions, the sense that there was more than one
person within him. "To assume than I am anything more is a mistake, and one that could cost lives."
The hand on his withdrew, and Culebra tensed as it ruffled his damp hair. "Stop that!"
"There you are, nothing but a mortal. Boys get so mad when their hair is mussed - yet they constantly muss it themselves. I
do not suppose, Highness, that you know where we might find food around here?"
Culebra nodded and stood up. "Back down the hall, to that first intersection after leaving the sanctuary. If we take a left,
then kitchens are the sixth door on the right."
"I will fetch it - if there is anything to fetch. Why don't you hang up our wet things, Highness? I can see several hooks on the
mantel for precisely that purpose. This is a fine room. The black and silver rug, I have never seen its equal. Nor have I ever
seen such a bed. Priests had all this?"
"Priests, no. This room was not meant for priests, though their rooms are nearly as fine. This room…" He could picture it.
The black marble fireplace, the black and silver rug, and all along the wall would be tapestries of the other gods. All the
wood was dark, nearly black itself. The bedclothes were shades of gray, from dark to light. He had always preferred the
simplest shades, rather than excessive color. Red and blue and yellow were too garish for a god who ruled the most
solemn aspects of the world. "This room belonged to the Basilisk, when he visited. No priest ever entered here."
Once, another god did.
The strange, whispering thought made him cold, made him afraid. Culebra shuddered and curled in on himself, wishing for
everything to suddenly go away. Vanish. Stop. End. "None shall abuse my power," he whispered softly.
"Are you all right?" Cortez asked, and then strong arms settled heavily on his shoulders, and Culebra shuddered in relief as
the grip brought him out of the dark memories trying to drag him down.
"I'm fine," Culebra said. "Just…bad memories, I think. There will be food in the kitchens. I will hang up our clothes."
Slowly the hands slid from his shoulders. "All right," Cortez said. "But no more looking as though you are going to…" She
hesitated. "My mother looked like that once. The next day she killed herself."
"It was just a bad memory," Culebra assured her. "Nothing more."
"I'll be back shortly," Cortez said.
Culebra nodded and slowly began to move around the room, retrieving their discarded wet clothes and hanging them from
the small, sturdy hooks attached the mantelpiece.
I did it once, the voice inside him whispered. If I must, I will do it again. No one will abuse my power.
Chapter Ten
Fidel sneezed, so hard his entire body shook with the force of it.
"This rain will kill all of us," Corinos said tiredly. "When this is over, I am never going outside again."
"At least it is not cold enough to freeze," Fidel said, though he didn't sound particularly cheered by his own words. "Merciful
gods, I am glad it is not snow."
Corinos grunted in agreement. On one hand, snow would make it much, much easier to follow a trail - however he did not
even want to think about how treacherous the mountain became in a snowfall. So far they were still in the lower portions,
going backward and forth, weaving their way through the dense, black forest. Soon, though, they would have to abandon
the horses and begin a far more difficult climb.
Hopefully, they would meet up with Culebra and this Cortez before that point was reached. His blood went cold at the
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thought of Culebra being made to climb up the mountain. Surely the people who wanted Culebra were not that stupid.
Scales and teeth, he hoped not.
Fidel sneezed again, sending water cascading everywhere, then sneezed rapidly three more times.
Corinos could feel a cough of his own coming on. He would be lucky indeed if the abysmal weather did not render him too
sick to function.
Desperately he tried to quash all thoughts of being sick. The last time he had succumbed to illness, his brother had gone
alone with Culebra on one of his trips. Granito was dead now. He would never be able to separate the two. He could not,
would not, get sick. Not now, when Culebra needed him.
Above them was nothing but clouds and a gray, hazy indication that somewhere above those clouds was the sun. It was
cold, wet, and could not possibly get any more miserable. Why now, of all times, did the Storm Dragons of Kundou choose
to dump such awful weather upon them?
He tried to think positively - as Fidel had said, it was not cold enough to freeze, and it was not snow. Somehow, the
thoughts were not as comforting as they should be. Heaving a sigh, Corinos attempted to settle more comfortably in his
saddle, but quickly gave it up. He was wet, cold, tired, worried. Even breathing seemed too cumbersome a task right now.
"That thing is truly terrifying," Fidel said.
Corinos laughed. "She is not terrifying at all. Ruisenor is kinder than most people I know."
"That is the sort of thing that stalks nightmares. People wake up screaming from nightmares which contain such things."
"Ruisenor is just a large snake. She would never hurt anyone - unless they hurt Culebra. Otherwise, I suspect she is far
more interested in nice, plump animals."
Fidel did not look convinced, eyes locked warily on the long, dark shape that slithered alongside them like the shadow of an
unseen animal. "I have never even heard of a snake like that. Where did you find her?"
Corinos shrugged. "She found his Highness, actually. We have no idea where she comes from, though we've looked in
every conceivable place and asked everyone we've met who might know. We know only that she is not native to Piedre.
She has never hurt anyone or anything; her only crime, according to his Highness, is stealing most of his covers by laying
upon them at night. She also likes to hog the space in front of the fireplace."
"I see," Fidel said, and laughed briefly. "Still, I do not ever want to have a gigantic snake drop down on me like - well, no
snake, really, but especially not a giant one. I cannot wait for Cortez to see, she will be fascinated."
So easy, Corinos thought sadly. So easy to forget he was supposed to hate this man. He should be wanting to kill him.
Fidel had helped kidnap Culebra, was the reason they were both rapidly making themselves sick by pushing on in the
miserable weather. "Fascinated? I do not think I've ever met a woman who found snakes fascinating. Even my mother
preferred not to be any closer to them than necessary."
Fidel snorted. "Cortez doesn't scare easy - scales and teeth, she went right into that sanctuary place to take his Highness.
A giant nightmare of a snake? She'll probably fall in love." The slightest bit of pain slipped into his words as he said them,
and Corinos was reminded of another reason they had so quickly seemed to strike a chord with each other.
"Assuming Ruisenor does not go after her for harming his Highness."
"I don't think so," Fidel said. "I think Cor likes the prince. She's been real nice to him, and they talk all the time."
Corinos's attention fell away from the rain and honed in on the faint note of jealousy in Fidel's voice. "They…get along?"
"Yes," Fidel said. "Like…almost like old friends. She has not laughed or smiled that much in a long time. I don't think he
usually does either, though I could not say for certain of course."
"Prince Culebra has never been much for levity," Corinos said quietly. "Usually only my brother could manage to lighten his
mood. Who is this Cortez?"
Fidel shrugged. "As a general rule, we do not talk about ourselves much. I know that she is actually only half-Piedren. Her
father, she once told me, was a sailor from Piedre who met her mother while he was in port in Kundou. When he never
came back for her, as promised, Cortez's mother journeyed here to find him. Cortez said they never did. When she was
young, her mother started to go blind. When Cortez was about…sixteen? Seventeen? Her mother killed herself. Since about
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fourteen, she has been involved in mercenary work of some sort." He chuckled briefly. "She has a temper and a nasty right
hook. If there is a weapon created that she cannot use, it is only because she's not yet had fifteen minutes to learn it. Her
temper has left her with several marks. Most would call her ugly."
"You do not think so?"
"I think she is beautiful."
"Most would say I should be leery of a man whose glance is enough to kill," Corinos replied.
Fidel snorted. "Cortez has never punched you. Trust me, my friend, the deadly eyesight is much more sane."
Laughter escaped before Corinos could stop it. Why? Why did it feel as though they had known each other for years and
years? Why did it seem so natural, the way Fidel said 'my friend'? Corinos wished desperately that he was home, with
Culebra, and that none of this had ever happened.
"Look there," Fidel said, breaking into his thoughts.
Corinos looked up, following his pointing hand, and saw the clearing not too far ahead. He frowned, as what was in the
clearing registered.
Bodies. Several of them. Scattered about, showing every sign of having lost a very nasty fight. From the look of them, they'd
been dead less than a day. He dismounted and drew his sword as they reached the camp. Five men, two women, all of
them brutally killed - and it looked as though someone had examined each body after the fight and made certain they were
all dead.
"What happened here?" Fidel asked. "I mean, why? So far out here?" He knelt down beside a man whose gut had taken a
sword, his throat probably slit shortly after. "They have the look of experience to them. Killing them, especially in this thick
forest, could have been no easy feat."
Corinos grunted in agreement and kept his sword ready as he knelt beside another corpse - another man, a nasty gash
through his back telling how he had died. Whoever had killed these people had done so with…relish. Almost as if it were
personal. Corinos frowned and began to examine the body, turning it over to see if the front would reveal more than the
back.
Revelation hit him hard, immediately, and he tore away what remained of the corpse's blood-soaked shirt and leathers to
get a full view of what he'd glimpsed.
Yes. Inked into his abdomen was a rose in full bloom - and black as pitch. "They were Black Roses."
"What?" Fidel looked up at him, surprised, then tore away the clothes of the corpse he knelt before, hissing as he found a
telltale tattoo on the man's thigh. He immediately stood and moved to another corpse, going to each and every one until he
found tattoos on each. "I do not believe it. They are all of the Black Rose…who would be killing them so brutally?"
Corinos shook his head. "I do not know. This is not the style of the White Rose…though if anyone had cause to kill them in
such a fashion, it would certainly be their rival Brotherhood."
"No…the Brotherhood of the White Rose does not use such methods." Fidel's face clouded, and Corinos narrowed his eyes
at the way Fidel's fingers strayed briefly to his right thigh. "The White Rose firmly believe that the Basilisk died to save
Piedre. He was a god who ensured death and destruction did not consume the world. Mindless violence, pointless
destruction…these things the Basilisk hated above all else. The Brotherhood of the White Rose firmly believes in peace,
and would not kill or otherwise harm unless there was no other way to resolve a problem." His face twisted with bitterness
and anger. "Even murder, the loss of something precious, is not cause enough to reciprocate in kind."
Standing, Corinos stalked over to Fidel and grabbed him by the arm, his other hand digging into Fidel's thigh. "Who are
you?"
"Only Fidel, nothing more," Fidel said, glaring, struggling. "My parents were head of the Brotherhood of the White Rose, and
the Black Rose murdered them. I saw it with my own eyes."
Corinos let him go. "They did not kill you as well?"
"They didn't see me, except for one, and I do not know why he stayed silent."
"So you are a White Rose?"
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Fidel shook his head. "No. It is true I still bear the mark, but my parents forced it upon me. I want no part of the
Brotherhoods. They are poisonous, unnecessary. It was their zealotry that got my parents killed. I want revenge, because I
loved them, but I do not want to go back into that world." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Mercy of the gods, I only ever
wanted the simple life of a clerk."
"You are a remarkably good mercenary for someone who wanted only to be a bookkeeper."
"We do what we must. My parents did not deserve to die. The White Rose is foolish, but it is not violent. There was no
reason to kill them."
Corinos grunted. "There was no reason you could see. The Black Rose probably thought they had plenty of reason. Zealots
are, after all, zealots."
Fidel shifted impatiently and moved away. "As you say. Still, they were my parents. I did not agree with them, but I loved
them. My entire world was ruined that night."
"So you zealously hunt down their killers?" Corinos asked softly, sheathing his sword.
Fidel's eyes snapped to his, and Corinos stared implacably back. "You know nothing about it."
"Nothing about wanting revenge? You think I do not know?" Corinos replied. "The man I love came home in pieces, all but
broken because he could only listen as mermaids attacked the ship he was on. The man I love had to tell me that he heard
as my brother died, killed by creatures that probably ate him. I know all about wanting to kill, Fidel, but I cannot fight an
ocean. Wasting energy on it would have helped no one, least of all my prince. I let it go."
Fidel said nothing, merely turned away and began to explore the camp for clues as to the attackers.
Corinos sighed and set to work doing the same, but an hour later they had several corpses neatly laid out and no clues as
to who had killed them or why - though the fact they were all Black Rose seemed enough to answer that question, at least
in part.
If there was one thing Piedre knew better than anyone, it was death. Always they had followed the Basilisk, and even now
when he was all but gone, the prayers and ceremonies used while he lived were still employed.
Kneeling, Corinos clasped his hands together and began one of at least a dozen prayers that would suit this situation - not a
group of zealots murdered in a forest by rogues unknown…but men killed far from home, where no one would ever know.
Beside him, Fidel joined in the prayer, and as one finished they blended it into another, eventually into a third, fourth, and
finally fifth, in a manner that never failed to impress anyone who saw a Piedren give funeral rites. Precious few ceremonies
were as intricate - ostentatious - as Isabella's had been.
"We need to move on," Corinos said when the prayers concluded. He swiped wet strands of hair from his face and stood,
brushing futilely at the mud now caking the top of his high boots. He pulled his sodden wool cloak more tightly around him
and mounted his horse. "How far are we from the meeting point?"
"Two days. Less if we hurry," Fidel said, mounting his own and turning them away from the grisly row of corpses. "The way
only gets more treacherous, however, so we dare not go too fast."
Corinos nodded. "Out of curiosity, how was anyone planning to take Culebra up the mountain? I assume that is the ultimate
goal, though I have no idea why."
Fidel shrugged. "I do not know the reasons they wanted his Highness, only that they are paying us enough gold we could
retire, as Cortez says, in the heart of Kundou and never work again."
"That's a lot of gold," Corinos said quietly, warnings going off in his head. The capital of Kundou was the most expensive
city in the world. Kundou was an island nation, and relied heavily on its import and export business to prosper. Whatever the
heart desired, it was said, could be found in the ports of Kundou. If this Cortez he was growing curious to meet was making
noises, even in jest, about retiring there…
Who had that kind of money? To pay off two mercs for a simple kidnapping job? His mind reeled, to think of what a group
with such funding could do. It made him cold with fear.
"Disturbing thought, isn't it?" Fidel said grimly, and by his expression Corinos knew Fidel had made the same realizations. "I
never liked it, Cortez knew I wouldn't - but the whole thing to me screams of Black Rose. It may be my last chance…"
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Corinos glared at him. "You are putting an innocent - his royal Highness - in danger because you cannot learn to let go of
what happened to your parents? I should beat you."
"Go ahead," Fidel said bitterly. "It is not as though we are true friends, is it?" He turned his head away, staring straight
ahead.
Unhappiness settled like a dead weight in Corinos's gut, and a sour silence settled over the both of them. It shouldn't bother
him. After he retrieved Culebra, they would go home and never see the pair of mercs again. Everything would return to
normal, hopefully with the exception that it would be him rather than Ruisenor in Culebra's bed.
That reminded him that he had not seen her for a while - not once while they were examining the corpses. Corinos looked
around, grateful for the distraction from his tangled thoughts about Fidel, and saw no sign of her. "Have you seen Ruisenor?
"
"No," Fidel said, not looking at Corinos. "But you've said before that she comes and goes as she pleases."
Corinos nodded. "Yes. Perhaps I am just on edge from the campsite."
"That could very well be, my-" Fidel cut himself off so hard Corinos could hear his teeth click together. Fidel's face was the
very image of gloomy, and Corinos knew his was the same. "There is no good reason we should be thinking of each other
as friends."
"No, there is not," Corinos said slowly. "We should not be getting along at all."
"Yet we keep trying."
Corinos sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. His entire body ached with exhaustion, tension, and a thousand worries
that would not be resolved soon enough for his liking. What would Granito do in such a situation? He sighed again as the
answer came to him - and he'd known it all along, but Granito was the one who always said only Culebra was more
stubborn. "I say we quit trying."
Fidel slumped slightly in his saddle, and Corinos could see that dejection mingled with the anger in his expression.
"It only makes things worse," Corinos continued. "Better to just be friends, and help each other, until circumstances force us
to be otherwise." He smiled at the stunned - happy - look Fidel shot him.
Then Fidel grinned, and looked years younger, and Corinos was struck again by how both mercenary and completely not
the man could look. "As you say, my friend - is there not a saying like that, somewhere in all the old teachings?"
"I think there are several such sayings," Corinos replied. "Right now, however, I do not feel like recalling them. I am far more
interested in being warm, dry, and fed."
Fidel laughed. "Yes, all of those sound far finer than even the gold I would have liked to get from our employers."
"Would have liked to get?" Corinos asked.
Fidel rolled his eyes. "Obviously, my friend, if you are taking him back then we will not be getting our money. Reneging on
our deal, we will be lucky to escape the country with our skin intact."
Corinos frowned, annoyed with himself for not realizing this - but then, at one point in time, he had fully intended to kill
Culebra's kidnappers himself. Then he'd told Fidel he would let them be so long as he could take Culebra back.
Now…now everything was different. For better or worse, he had just declared Fidel his friend. Assuming Cortez did not do
something regrettable, there was no reason for their animosity to resume…strange everything had seemed so complicated a
moment ago, and now it all seemed so simple. Except for the part where Fidel's life was now in danger. "I will help you."
"There is no reason for you to do that, my friend. I seem to recall we are only here, making ourselves sick in this cursed
rain, because Cortez and I relieved you of your prince."
Corinos nodded. "It takes the wind but a moment to shift."
"I wish the wind would shift the rain away from us," Fidel said, making them both laugh.
The laughter died as Ruisenor appeared in front of them, and Corinos could tell she was agitated by something. "Something
is wrong. She's upset."
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Fidel's brows went up. "I do not like to think about what could upset a gigantic nightmare snake."
"Neither do I," Corinos agreed, urging his horse forward all the same as Ruisenor turned and led them off the rough path
they'd been following. As he followed, he began to notice things he did not like.
Signs of people racing haphazardly through the forest - there was too much rain and mist for the path they'd been on to
show the signs, but off in the thicker parts of the forest, some signs were still there. Broken branches, marks in the mud
where the rain wasn't quite able to penetrate the dense canopy above…he reached out and snagged a bit of fabric that
looked as though it had been torn from a cloak while its owner fled.
For he sensed that was what had occurred - he could not tell how many, but safe to say at least two people had been
racing through the forest. One being chased, the other the chaser. Only desperation would drive either to run so recklessly
through the trees, when one wrong turn could knock them off their horses, and either the hit or the fall could kill.
He pulled up short as they came to a place where the trees thinned slightly - and where two bodies lay across the forest
floor. Corinos dismounted and strode to the nearest, an older woman whose throat had been slashed open. Her face was
twisted in a grimace of fear and pain. Frowning deeply, more confused than ever, he searched her body and quickly found
the black rose inked into her ankle.
"This one too," Fidel said from where he knelt over the other corpse. "Perhaps they were part of the camp? Managed to get
away?"
Corinos shook his head, thinking. "I suppose - but wouldn't it make more sense to run down the mountain? The forest would
have thinned out, and they would have stood a better chance of getting away. To go deeper into the forest…it was virtually
a guarantee that they would be killed."
"Perhaps they were trying to warn someone."
"That could very well be. Why all the way up here? The Azul are of no interest, unless you live in one of the little villages
and they would not venture into this part of it. Nothing but forest for miles around, and far too easy to become lost."
"Also easy to hide things," Fidel said, and stood up. "Where did that snake go now?"
Corinos frowned as he realized that Ruisenor had disappeared again. Then he saw her, just barely, several yards away.
"There," he said, standing and pointing even as he started moving.
Ruisenor was little more than a coiled shadow in the gloomy forest, twisting and twining around herself as she moved
agitatedly about the little clearing, finally coiling up as they arrived.
Fidel's breath hissed out between his teeth. "I recognize this man," he said.
"Who is he?" Corinos asked, kneeling to examine the short, stocky man who had obviously died of his wounds - deep cuts
in his sides, across his chest, down one leg. Any of them alone would have been survivable, but cumulative they were fatal
without immediate treatment.
"I have not seen him in many years," Fidel said, crouching down beside Corinos. "The last time I saw him was my parents'
funeral. He is a member of the White Rose…one of the higher ranking members, in fact. What is he doing all the way out
here?"
Corinos examined the dead man and the sword which lay nearby. "It looks to me as though he killed the two back there,
which means he was likely involved in the deaths at the campsite. So does that mean the two Brotherhoods are out here
trying to kill each other?" He bent back to examining the man, digging through his clothes and the small bag on his belt for
any indication of what was going on in the Azul Mountains.
He found only an empty flask, several coppers, a few silver…and a gold signet ring. Corinos frowned as he examined the
crest stamped into the fine gold. An owl and moon…something in the back of his mind stirred. There were so many noble
houses, and more besides traveling between four countries, he had trouble remembering them all…but this one was native.
He was certain of it.
The answer came to him in a flash, and Corinos drew a sharp breath. "Lady Marcela," he said.
"What?"
Corinos shook his head, tried to gather his thoughts. "The crest on this ring belongs to Lady Marcela's family. She was killed
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the night you two kidnapped Culebra. I had thought it must somehow be related, but with one thing and another, I always
forgot to ask you about it. She had a tattoo of a white rose on her thigh. Someone tried to frame Culebra and his snakes for
the murder…"
Fidel stared at him, looking as baffled as Corinos felt. "The White Rose want nothing to do with nobility. They see the noble
houses as a cause for the rampant violence and such they say is everywhere. Such divisions do not lead to the peace the
Basilisk's death was meant to achieve. They would never induct a member of the nobility. Why would this man, here in the
middle of nowhere, have a ring belonging to a woman that ordinarily the White Rose would want nothing to do with?"
"When I figure it out, I will be certain to let you know," Corinos said, and stood up. "Come, we must hurry. Whatever is going
on, my friend, I sense that we are very close to being too late to prevent it. I also do not feel safe in this forest - rather, I feel
even less safe than I did before."
"Agreed," Fidel said, and they all but ran back to their horses, turning them carefully in the dense forest before going as
quickly as they could back toward the rough path, led by the glimmering shadow that was Ruisenor.
Corinos closed his eyes against the fear that was threatening to consume him. His blood felt a hundred times colder than
the rain that continued to torment them. Culebra, he thought, nearly trembling with fear for his prince though he didn't know
why he should be so scared. Be careful.
Chapter Eleven
"I have never felt so disinclined to leave a place," Cortez said with a long sigh as she finished packing the saddlebags. "I
wish I could show this place to Fidel; he would like it."
Culebra nodded, attention more on the temple he stood before than on her words.
Cortez smiled and closed the bags, then strode over and took him gently by the arm. "Come, Highness, we had best be on
our way. Fidel will lay eggs if we are not waiting for him at the appointed time and place."
"I would be duly impressed if Fidel managed to do that," Culebra said with a smile, allowing himself to be led away from the
temple.
She wondered what it was like for Culebra, to be at a place where once the god he was supposed to be the mortal
reincarnation of had been worshipped. It had been fascinating, even frightening to some degree, to see him be both the
quiet prince she knew and the…god, she supposed, that he was or had been.
"The rain has finally stopped," Culebra said. "It smells as though the clouds have finally moved on."
Cortez looked up. "Hard to tell for certain, as it's still so early in the morning, but I would say you are correct, Highness.
Perhaps some drizzling, but I think the worst is well past us now. Up you go." She helped him up into the saddle, constantly
amazed at how light the prince was, then swung up behind him. Settling an arm around Culebra's waist, she clucked to the
horse and turned to give the temple one last, long look.
Truly it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen - smoky gray marble, the tall pillars and ornate carvings. It was like…
something from a dream, set in a field that by contrast seemed too green, too bright. Stifling a sigh, Cortez let the temple
vanish from her sight as they returned to the thick forest she was slowly growing to hate.
At least, she reminded herself, it was no longer raining.
She wondered how far off course they were - but only a few minutes riding brought them back to the rough path that was
her only guide up the mountain. Had anyone but them come this way in recent years? Obviously not, and it piqued her
curiosity to know why the people paying them wanted to meet practically at the top of the Azul.
Thankfully, they would not be going quite to the top - the journey would not even be physically possible for Culebra, who
had it rough enough being forced to ride all day long.
They traveled in silence for nearly half an hour before Cortez could no longer keep her questions to herself - honestly, she
was pushing forty and had nothing but gold to show for her life. She should not be acting this way. "Do you really think it's
possible to be your bodyguard, Highness?"
"If you truly want a life of following around a blind prince and putting up with all the ugly things nobles can and will say, then
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all you have to do is wait for Corinos to calm down. Which will take awhile - Corinos is hard to anger, but once he's riled
calming him down can be even more difficult. I remember once, he and his brother came to blows in my grandmother's
orchard. The ultimate reason for the fight, I don't know, but I do know they were sporting bruises and cuts for days
afterwards."
Cortez chuckled. "It sounds better than being paid to kidnap, steal, or terrorize, Highness." She also doubted it would ever
happen, the idea was far too naïve, but the gesture was appreciated - especially under the circumstances - and the
thoughts were warming. Her, walking around a castle protecting a prince! The sort of stories her mother had once told her,
before life finally broke her. She would be content to remain alive after they took Culebra home.
She would miss him, Cortez thought with a sudden pang. It surprised her to realize how much. She would never be so
presumptuous as to pretend she had anything in common with a near-god…but in more ways than one they seemed to
have much in common. Never quite fitting in…losing people they loved…but many people suffered so, there was no reason
to think that gave her a connection to Culebra. Prince Culebra, she reminded herself.
The prince might be only just a little more than half her age, and she had worlds of experience he would, she fervently
hoped, never endure - but sometimes it felt as though they were closer in age. Perhaps it was the weariness, the bitterness,
that surrounded Culebra like a mist.
Cortez rolled her eyes at herself and forced her mind on what mattered - reach the meeting spot, explain her decisions to
Fidel, attempt to persuade him to go along with it. Which meant she needed to spend the journey today formulating her
arguments. Fidel would not give up his chance for revenge lightly, and she could not in all fairness blame him.
Though she wished badly that he would, so her secret would never come out - she could not have him, but she was selfish
enough to hope he'd never have to hate her. Oh, to take back that one night of her life…
"You are quiet today," Culebra said.
"Thinking," Cortez replied. "Not my strong point, to which my scars will attest. I am better at just going on instinct…some
would say I simply act on my temper. Probably several people."
Culebra laughed. "You have mentioned your temper before, but I cannot believe that someone who would walk into my
sanctuary is all that careless. My snakes would have sensed it and attacked you."
"Oh, just wait until someone crosses me - from what you've told me, I'll probably get into it with your Corinos, though I
promise I won't kill him."
"I know," Culebra said. "I would be more concerned for yourself, Cortez. He might not have your…colorful background, but
his father was Captain of the Guard once, and knew more about combat than anyone I've ever encountered. His sons were
his protégés, which is the reason they were appointed my bodyguards."
Cortez smiled, for once seeing a bit of Culebra's youth in the way he spoke so avidly of the man he so obviously loved and
adored. She had not heard him speak of anyone else the entire journey - only his Corinos, and his feelings for the man
were impossible to miss, no matter what he said. It made Cortez jealous. She would give anything to know someone
thought so deeply of her - for though she knew Fidel cared, she didn't doubt for a moment that eventually he would give up
the mercenary life and find someone worth settling down.
That made her wonder - did she sound like Culebra when she spoke of Fidel?
Merciful gods, she hoped not. That could cause problems. Such obvious weakness never helped their line of work. Cortez
scrubbed a hand through her short hair and sighed. "Truly, thinking is not my strongest ability."
"I have been told that I think too much."
"That I believe, Highness," Cortez said with a smile, wrapping her arm back around his waist. "You are so solemn, so quiet -
it is easy to see that your mind is constantly churning." She snickered, unable to resist the chance to tease - Culebra was
so adorably flustered and so glaringly young when he was teased. It suited him. "There is a popular cure for that, one I'm
certain your Corinos would be happy to show you - though I recommend finding a bed and not using the ground. Rocks
always find my back at the worst moments in such situations."
She could tell by the way he tensed and then squirmed that his pale face was bright red. So very endearing, to see a man
so easily embarrassed. If she didn't think it would get her killed, she'd pinch his cheek or something. Culebra was the little
brother she'd never had. For years growing up, she'd secretly wished for a brother or sister - to play with, to help her, to talk
to when her mother withered away.
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"Stop that!" Culebra hissed, twisting his head around as if to emphasize that she should stop - and yes, his cheeks were
bright red. So strange, and definitely cute, to see the dignified prince so flustered.
Cortez chuckled. "Surely, Highness, you're used to coarser talk than my few comments. I was certain you noble types knew
all about how best to use a bed." She threw her head back and laughed as those cheeks flushed darker. "Or perhaps you
prefer other surfaces…"
"Stop it!" Culebra said, nearly shouting, obviously desperate to get away from the topic.
It was patently obvious Culebra and Corinos had never gone that far. The prince, somehow, did not surprise her - but this
Corinos. She had to admire a man who had someone like Culebra in love with him and did not enjoy that fact to its fullest.
Admire…and also wonder what precisely she would be up against. A man with that sort of patience and restraint…she
shook her head and shifted her thoughts.
"Already, Highness, I miss those beds. No temple should have such comfortable beds." They'd been wickedly soft. She had
slept like a baby. Could have quite happily slept for days and days. Let Fidel run into town if he wanted, she would be quite
content with her temple.
"Now you see why I will demand my kidnappers take my bed along, the next time someone decides I need to be dragged
up a mountain."
Cortez laughed. "Maybe next time, they will decide you need to go to a nice beach."
In her arms, Culebra shuddered. "No ocean," he said in a thin, strained voice.
"….Perhaps a nice vineyard, then. I was in Verde a couple years ago, hired by someone in Piedre to 'acquire' a rare vintage
of wine for him that the owners refused to sell. Ah, that was bliss. Such fine wine in Verde, there is nothing else quite like it.
Especially when you realize the owners turn into owls, and their workers are a mix of badger, raccoon, fox, and deer. Not
what I would expect to see at a vineyard, but they say Verde makes very little sense to outsiders…"
"That is very true," Culebra said. "There is constant confusion where their Forms are concerned. They say that one day the
feuding over it all will tear the country apart."
Cortez grunted. "So long as they leave the wine."
"Interesting priorities."
"Obviously you've never had their wine."
Culebra's cheeks flushed the faintest shade of pink. "I once drank so much, so quickly, that I fell asleep right there at the
table. Corinos noticed before anyone else did, and woke me, but I have been careful of the stuff ever since."
Cortez threw her head back and laughed. "That I would like to see, Highness! We shall have to spend a night drinking, you
and I, somewhere down the road." It would never happen, of course it wouldn't - after Culebra was safely returned home,
she and Fidel would have to run for their lives. Still, like the idea of being his bodyguard, it was a warming thought, and
sometimes that was enough - usually it had to be.
"I don't drink very well, or so Corinos says."
"I suppose not, if you fall asleep so quickly, but it's always fun to try," Cortez replied with a laugh. She started to say more,
then tilted her heard. "Do you hear a waterfall?"
Culebra nodded, turning his head toward the source of the sound. "I do. I thought I heard it a little while ago, but it's not
become clear until these past few minutes."
Impressive. She could barely hear it, and he said it was clear to him. Obviously he more than made up for his lack of sight.
"My instructions were to travel northeast, up the mountain, following an old trail until I reached a waterfall…we are not due
to meet those who want you for a couple of days, yet. Hopefully, Fidel will be waiting for us first. That was the plan, should
we happen to split up. I did not expect us to come upon the waterfall so soon. Going to that temple somehow shaved hours
from our journey. I do not see how though, if anything it should have added time…"
"Perhaps we were further along than you first surmised. Maps have been wrong about distances before."
"That is true," Cortez said. "We are not far, even I can hear it clearly now." She turned her horse to the left as the path split.
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A prickle ran down her spine, and Cortez frowned. Why should she be feeling uneasy now? Instinct, however, was not to be
ignored. "Highness, hold tight to the saddle. If anything goes wrong, let the horse take you back down the mountain."
"What?" Culebra asked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, yet, but something in the air bothers me." Cortez slid down from the horse and drew her sword, then took the
reins in her free hand and began walking toward the sound of the waterfall, in a clearing she could just barely see through
the trees.
"It's too quiet," Culebra said, his own voice barely audible. "Beyond the waterfall and ourselves, I hear nothing."
Cortez grimaced as she realized he was right. She tightened her grip on her sword and lightly touched the various knives
and other tricks she kept hidden. "If something happens to me, Highness - tell your friends to see to matters."
Culebra nodded in reply.
They reached the clearing, and Cortez looked it over. Any other time, the beauty of it would have distracted her. It was
nowhere near as beautiful as the temple, but it was still remarkable in its own right. The waterfall was gigantic, but it was
respectable, spilling over the side of the mountain and into a large pond - the water must travel underground from that point,
because there was no river running through the dense forest. "Empty," she said after several minutes, unable to see any
sign that people had been in the clearing.
"No," Culebra said softly, and slid from the horse, stumbling slightly as he hit the ground. Cortez could see not one, but two
snakes now twined around him - where did they come from, that she never saw them until they were wrapped around
Culebra? One was long, thin, and the color of spring grass. The second was dark brown or black, she could not quite tell
which. "They are behind the waterfall. Waiting."
Cortez hissed at the words. "A threat?"
"I do not know," Culebra said. "The snakes say that so far, they only wait."
"Highness, you should not have gotten off the horse. If something goes wrong, I will not have time to get you back into the
saddle - and that could cost you your life."
Culebra laughed. "Hardly. I have all the help I need, hiding in the grass and trees. A snake knows better than the men
lurking behind the waterfall how not to be seen, how to strike quickly - they are made for it, after all. No one will reach me
before they are bitten, and poison does not take long to work."
"Even a second is too long in a fight."
Culebra reached a hand up to stroke the dark snake as it rubbed against his cheek. "We will be fine." His mouth twisted into
a grim smile, and somehow the bandages wrapped around his eyes only made the expression that much worse. "If the
worst should happen, I will tell them to bite me."
"No!" Cortez snapped. "That is not acceptable."
"It is not your decision to make," Culebra said sharply, and for the first time Cortez could see the prince in him. "I have lived
with the knowledge that such a thing might be necessary all my life."
Cortez shook her head furiously back and forth, then cursed herself for being stupid. "I do not care what the reason might
be, suicide is not the answer. It solves nothing. Death has its place, as painful as it might be. Killing is necessary - but I will
never believe that a person should take his own life."
"Your mother is one thing," Culebra said gently. "I am quite different. More than once in the history of our country, someone
thought to try and use the power of the Basilisk Prince to further some ambition. I will not let that happen to me."
"No," Cortez said. "I've been in plenty of situations, more than I like to count, where death would have been a mercy." She
touched a hand to her face, and the tattoo on her thigh seemed to burn. "My body, scarred and ugly, is a testament to that.
I have been all around the world, to every place a person like me can go. I still have nightmares about some of them. If I've
learned anything, Highness, it is that death should not be so readily considered an option."
"You would rather people use me to cause pain?"
"Find another way, Highness. Kill them, if you must - that is a necessary death. You are a prince of Piedre, and all that
remains of our God."
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Culebra turned toward her, mouth set in a stubborn frown. "A god who killed himself."
"Perhaps he should have found another way, as well."
Something in the air shifted as Culebra responded. "There was no other way, not then. He nearly succeeded in taking it all
away. No one will abuse my power."
Cortez shivered - but a flash of movement from the corner of her eye prevented any chance to reply. She turned to see a
group of six men and three women coming out from behind the waterfall. "Trouble's coming. Nine in total."
"Yes," Culebra said softly. "Perhaps it would be better, for now, if you simply handed me over. If they intend to take me
further up the mountain, it will be slow going. You will have plenty of time to wait for Fidel, even possibly Corinos, and then
you can follow after."
"Perhaps," Cortez said, not liking that it sounded like a good plan, albeit not a very nice one. She was good, but she could
not go up against nine people. There was no further time for discussion, however, as the group reached them.
"You're Cortez," the man in front said, and Cortez could tell from the way he stood and sounded that he was the leader,
perhaps even the one responsible for the entire affair. He…she tilted her head in thought. He wasn't Piedren. Why she
thought that, she wasn't certain. He had the skin, the dark hair…something about his eyes was off…she could not say
exactly what though.
All things considered, he was not terribly remarkable. Not really handsome, not really ugly, more like…neutral. A word flitted
through her mind, but it was gone too quickly for her to catch it. At a glance, he looked like any other Piedren, but
something about him was off.
Cortez frowned, struggling to figure it out. His eyes were strange, something about the darkness of them not right, but she
could not get close enough to see their actual color. Something else was wrong…but what? There was a detail there she
was missing, and it aggravated her that she could not spot it. Ah, well. Best not to force it. Eventually, she would hit upon it.
"I'm Cortez."
"Interesting," the man said. "I was told Cortez was a man. Our contact did not mention you were a woman."
Cortez rolled her eyes. "Your contact was not the most reliable I've ever dealt with. I fail to see what my having tits has to
do with anything. You're the ones who wanted him?"
"Yes," the man said, and finally turned his attention to Culebra, who through it all had stood silent and patient. "Your
Highness."
Culebra tilted his head up, seeming to look straight at the man despite his blindness. "What is the meaning of this?" he
asked haughtily. "I do not appreciate being dragged all over Piedre, and up this gods forsaken mountain. You will give me a
reason for it."
The man smirked. Cortez rather thought he was lucky Culebra could not see it. "My name is Jorge, Highness, and-"
"I do not recall giving any indication that I cared to know your name. I asked to be told why I am here."
Cortez blinked. So this was the Basilisk Prince of Piedre.
Jorge frowned. "I was getting to that, Highness."
"Then get to it faster."
Jorge's face clouded and he stepped forward, hand curling into a fist while his other reached out - and just as quickly he
stumbled back, flinching away from the dark red snake that had suddenly struck forward from where it had been hidden in
the folds of Culebra's cloak.
"Do not come closer," Culebra said calmly, reaching up to gently stroke the snake with his long, elegant fingers. "This
particular snake comes from the beaches of Kundou. It usually feeds on oceanic creatures. Some of the deadliest creatures
in the world live in the ocean - this snake fears none of them. Try to touch me again, as I know you very well did, and you
will find out why this snake fears nothing. I am here because I chose to be. Do not try my patience."
Silence fell thick and heavy as Jorge and his people absorbed Culebra's words. Cortez knew how they felt. Prince Culebra
was beautiful, quiet, and poised. He could not see, did not look as though he could or would ever hurt anything. Yet at least
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three snakes were now wrapped around him, and threats of pain and death fell calmly from his lips.
Prince Culebra was nothing if not a study in contrasts - kind one moment, almost cruel the next. That contrast, more than
anything, made it real to her that he was the remnants of a god of death.
"Tell me why I am here," Culebra said again.
Jorge flashed a grin that made Cortez want to punch all his teeth out. "We're going to restore you to your full glory,
Highness."
Culebra drew a sharp breath, and Cortez swore that if it had been even remotely possible for that alabaster skin to go any
whiter, it would have. "What?"
"We're going to make you a god."
Chapter Twelve
The words echoed through Culebra's head, unsettling every fiber of his being. "You can't do that," he said. "It's impossible."
Jorge laughed, and Culebra had never wanted so badly to tell his snakes to kill someone. Something about the man deeply
unsettled him - that voice was like some long-buried nightmare come to life.
There was nothing unusual about it, nothing he could pinpoint, but something deep inside him shuddered to hear it.
All he did notice was that the accent was slightly off -not enough that most people would be able to tell. But he relied
heavily on nuances of voice and speech to remember people at large gatherings. Nothing was more confusing or
overwhelming than a large dinner party where everyone knew he was blind yet expected him to get along as well as those
who could see.
This voice…it was like he had, at one point, spoken in quite a different way. Culebra would be willing to bet that the man's
Piedren accent slipped when he was angry or tired, revealing more of his true accent. He did not recognize it, though that
didn't mean anything. For every dialect and accent he knew, there were at least three he did not. Verde especially, because
it was so vast, was notorious for its number of regional dialects. Was the man from Verde?
He didn't think so. Jorge…that was a Piedren name, but it could be an alias. If he were kidnapping royalty, he wouldn't be
quick to use his real name.
"It's impossible," he repeated.
"You're wrong, Highness."
Culebra shook his head. "I know better than anyone living how impossible it is to do such a thing. My eyes, my snakes…"
his ability to sense pending death, "are all that remain of the Basilisk."
"Not true," Jorge replied. "We need only find the temple where once the Basilisk was buried."
"You think it somewhere here in the Azul?" Culebra asked, then burst into laughter. "Fools! Do you think you are the first to
search for it? The private journals of the royal family are filled with accounts of failed attempts to find the Lost Temple. It is
no more than a legend now. Men have searched from the Azul to the Great Plains to the coast and found nothing but their
lives suddenly wasted and gone."
Beside him, he could feel Cortez shift restlessly. He wondered what she saw, how much he was missing. Well, no matter -
one way or the other, he would let no one control him, misuse his power. My power will not be abused.
He heard Jorge step closer, and could feel the man's anger at the way he'd laughed - but this time Jorge wasn't dumb
enough to get within range of the snakes that twined around him. Though, a smarter man would be looking for snakes in the
grass.
There were ten.
Culebra summoned his haughty tone again, knowing precisely how infuriating people found it. He knew how the games
were played. "How do you propose to find a temple when a thousand years of searching have never produced a single clue
as to its existence?"
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Jorge laughed in that awful way of his that set Culebra's teeth on edge. "We will find it."
"Meaning that, as of this moment, you do not know where it is."
"We know it is in these mountains; what little information provided by the old legends would seem to indicate that. Piedre is
filled with mountains, but none are as uninhabited and remote as the Azul. Beyond them is nothing but the sea, Verde is to
the west, and the rest of Piedre to the south. All that aside, with you we will be able to find it."
Culebra said nothing. He was more interested in the way he could not sense death upon anyone - but it was more in the
fashion of leaving Piedre. Something was blocking his ability to predict death. What, though?
Perhaps he was simply too strained to do it. That point was hard to reach, but it had happened before…years and years
ago.
"How will I find it? As I've already said, it's been done before - and with the Basilisk Prince. Do you really think you're the
only one clever enough to have thought of that? You are a fool."
The snake at his shoulder hissed, and Culebra drew back. "Do not touch me. I have warned you."
"I merely want to give you something, Highness," Jorge said congenially.
"What?" Culebra said.
"They say this elixir heightens the senses, makes natural abilities far greater."
"Get away from me," Culebra said, stepping back, desperate to get away. Something about the elixir chilled him, frightened
him. My power will not be abused. "Stay back."
"Don't even try it!" Cortez suddenly bellowed, and Culebra recoiled as he heard swords drawn, the sound of metal clashing,
grunts of pain, and the field suddenly filled with the coppery scent of blood. "Get away! Bastards! Highness, get away!"
"Cortez!"
"Highn-" Cortez was abruptly cut off, and then moaned softly, and Culebra heard her fall to the ground. The sound of
swords returning to their sheaths made the knots of fear in his stomach twist and tighten.
"No!" Culebra shouted. "I will kill every last one of you if you do her further harm."
"Drink the elixir," Jorge said.
Culebra's words were prevented as one of the others gave a startled cry. "Jorge! Look! She-she's a Black Rose."
"What?" Jorge hissed the word, clearly surprised.
"It's here, on her thigh. We were trying to bind the wound…"
"Kill her," Jorge said flatly. "I do not keep deals with Black Rose."
"That makes no sense, though, Boss. Why would they hire one of their own to kidnap him?"
Culebra froze. "Wait…you're not the ones who paid her to kidnap me? Is that what you're saying?"
"Not so snotty now, are you, Highness? No, we're not. The men who hired her to kidnap you are currently rotting away in
the forest."
"H-how many did you kill?"
"The Black Rose was gathering here en masse. They never saw it coming; far too arrogant, that lot. Serves them right. All
told? At least a couple hundred or so. I stopped counting after that, so it could be more."
That was why, Culebra realized, stomach clenching. He couldn't sense death because the mountain was saturated with it.
"How many of you are here?"
A woman answered the question - her voice as beautiful in tone as Cortez's voice was rough, but it held none of the
kindness. "We took over one of the little villages, about two days ride from here. It had belonged to the Black Rose."
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"Yeah," another voice answered, this time a man - older, from the sounds of it. "Serves them right, always killing us. Maybe
now they'll learn we're not so easily pushed over."
Culebra shook his head, unable to believe the realizations that were flooding through him. "You…you're from the White
Rose."
"Oh, the Brotherhood of the White Rose wants nothing to do with us. We had a difference of opinion. We, my dear Basilisk
prince, are the Brotherhood of the Stone Rose, and it is our mission to revive our god."
"You're not that altruistic. I know greed and ambition when I hear them. Tell me how Cortez is! Now!"
Jorge laughed. "Do you really care so much for your kidnapper? We saw you talking, and wondered what exactly was going
on…she is fine, though as she is a Black Rose…"
"No," Culebra said. "Former. She no longer is part of that organization. If you kill her, you will regret it." At his ankles, he
could feel a snake. Some part of him always knew which snakes were with him, nearby, what they could do…and they
always heard him, obeyed him. Silently he bid the snake twining about his feet to move, be ready.
"Death does not frighten us," said another woman, her voice grating, sharp.
Culebra smirked, and pet the snake that pressed against his cheek. "Don't underestimate me."
He heard Jorge move closer, and tensed. "Drink the elixir, Highness. Do as we say, and we'll let your kidnapper go."
Culebra folded his arms and shook his head. "I will not drink poison. If you want me to help you find the temple - fine. You
will not corrupt my senses." Something…images flickered through his mind. They were faded, indistinct, like seeing
shadows in a thick fog. Culebra fought desperately to see through the fog, to grasp the shadows - but he realized suddenly
that trying too hard would doom him.
Instead, he looked away, turned his thoughts elsewhere, let the strange shadows linger in the back of his mind.
How could he bring the memories back? For he knew, as much as he hated it, that they were memories. He was all that
remained of the Basilisk, and the Basilisk within him knew something about that elixir, or something very like it.
Something terrible.
It had frightened the god of death and destruction. It had hurt him.
Culebra didn't want to know, yet he sensed he had to - whatever Jorge and his new Brotherhood were doing, it was nothing
so simple as merely restoring the Basilisk. No one did something without some selfish intent behind it; there was always a
personal reason.
Taking a deep breath, Culebra slowly turned in the direction from which he'd last heard Cortez, silently asking his snakes to
help him, guide him. "Back away," he said coldly as he felt people standing too close. Eventually, he knelt down beside a
figure lying too still on the ground. Exploring carefully, he eventually curled one hand beneath Cortez's shoulders and lifted
her into his lap, free hand moving to find a pulse. It wasn't as strong as it should be, but she wouldn't die unless left to rot in
the forest. Questing fingers found a knot on her head, a wound low on her right thigh. A snake slithered down his arm and
coiled up on Cortez's chest; he knew another crawled up from the grass to settle across her legs. "How did you get her?"
Culebra asked. "Besting Cortez in a fight…"
"We cheated, of course. No one can face that many opponents at once. A slice and a hit later, she's out of the way."
Culebra repressed a shiver at the cool, almost bored way the words were said. Had these people no compassion? "I have
no desire to help people as cruel as you," he said quietly. "So many people dead, and now you have harmed someone who
did you no wrong. Why should I believe that all you want is to restore me to my full power?"
"Death should please one such as you."
"You know nothing," Culebra said furiously. "Death is necessary to life. It keeps a balance. That is all. It is not your place to
decide who should live or die. No one has that right. To take a life is the greatest of sins. Even Zhar Ptitka will not stand for
it, and he of all the gods is the most compassionate and merciful."
Jorge merely laughed and moved toward him - stopping when the snakes around Culebra all rose up. "Your little pets won't
stop me forever."
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"Help Cortez, or I'll prove you quite wrong."
Another laugh. "Highness, if they were capable of killing me, or you were capable of letting them, you would have already
done so."
"No," Culebra said softly, turning his head up, toward the sound of Jorge's voice. "Death should not be the solution turned to
in situations like this. I would prefer to take Cortez and leave. I do not want to find the Lost Temple, I do not want to waste a
moment more speaking to you. However, I am even less willing to let Cortez die. Save her, do not make me take that elixir,
and I will go with you."
Corinos would find him, he knew it. Corinos would save him. He just had to wait, to get through all this and go along with
finding the stupid temple. Corinos would come, and then this whole nightmare journey would begin to end.
"You will never find the temple without the elixir, Highness," Jorge said, condescension slipping into his voice.
Culebra brushed his fingers across Cortez's cheek and silently recited a prayer for safety and healing. Then he set her
carefully back down on the grass and stood up. "Do not speak so to me," he said in his best royal prince voice. "I have
already found the Temple of Oblivar. Perhaps I will get lucky and find the Lost Temple."
"Yet mere minutes ago you said it was impossible," Jorge argued.
"Circumstances have changed, haven't they? I cannot let a friend die - only do not force me to take that elixir. Wherever did
you get such a thing?"
The minute he asked the question, Culebra knew the answer. Knew he'd known it all along. The whisper echoed in his
head, made him shiver, made him sorrowful and angry and afraid.
Verde
Only one
Betrayed
"Where I got it hardly matters," Jorge answered, and his boots rustled in the still-wet grass as he once more tried to move
close to the prince.
"Get away!" Culebra snapped desperately. "I will not take that foul concoction. I would sooner kill myself."
My power will not be abused.
"For now, Highness, I will let you have your way. Find the temple." Jorge left him in peace, and began barking orders to the
people with him, and with relief Culebra listened as two were ordered to tend Cortez.
"Where do we begin?" he asked Jorge.
"How did you find the Temple of Oblivar? I have not heard anyone speak of that temple, except in musty old journals. It's as
legendary as the Lost Temple."
Culebra frowned in thought, hands smoothing absently over the scales of a snake he knew to be yellow, red, and black. "I…
sensed it, once we were close enough. Perhaps a couple of miles away. It was simple to find once I first sensed it."
Jorge sighed. "So if you took the elixir, you probably would be able to sense it from several miles away."
"It's that potent?" Culebra asked, feeling sick at what something like that would do to his ability to sense death. "Please -
that would kill me. I will not take it."
"Suit yourself, Highness. When endless searching exhausts you, I think you will change your mind. We will start here, and
move out in a spiral through the mountains."
If Culebra had not already been feeling sick with dread and fear, that statement would have done it. Such exploring would
take days, weeks, months. It could very easily take years to explore the Azul mountains in enough detail to find the Lost
Temple - a temple most said didn't actually exist.
Some part of him knew it did exist, and that its location had been lost for very good reason. That part of him had known the
location would be lost over time, and had hoped for that. Culebra did not want to find out why; the whispers of memory
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already haunting him were more than he could take.
It didn't really matter though, did it? Soon, Corinos would come. If there was one thing he still believed, it was that
somehow, someway, Corinos would find him. Then Culebra fully intended to hold tightly to his bodyguard and never let go.
Thinking of Corinos brought a deep ache, one that ran deeper than even those brought on by his shadowy memories. All he
wanted right now, more than his next breath, was to feel a familiar hand on the small of his back, for Corinos's dark sugar
voice to wash over him - even though he knew the first thing Corinos would do once he found Culebra would be to shake
him hard enough his teeth would rattle.
Though that would be hard to do, as Culebra's only plan was to kiss him until they both passed out.
Hugging himself, petting his snakes, Culebra turned toward the sound of Jorge's voice. "Cortez?"
"The woman is fine, though anyone with the mark of a Black Rose deserves to die."
"You do not have the right to say that," Culebra replied coldly. "Will she be safe?"
Jorge moved closer. "We bound her wounds, and left her near the water. The rest is not our concern. You are. Now, tell me
- do you sense anything?"
"No," Culebra said. "I sense nothing from here. We had best move elsewhere." Hopefully all the movement would leave a
blazing trail. If he had to lie, he would make certain Corinos found him before he found the temple. Not that he thought he
would find it. The temple had been lost for a thousand years, and the remnants of the god within him did not want it to be
found.
Wherever the Basilisk's Lost Temple was located, it was well out of the way - where no one would stumble across it, where
even dedicated searching would not find it. How did the old story put it?
…they at last lighted upon a secluded temple, one they had never seen before, hidden high and deep in the mountains…
As easily as drawing his next breath, Culebra knew where it was - at least in theory. Where, precisely, still escaped him, but
he knew where it was roughly. Why no one would find it. Why only an entire nation of scared, confused people had found it
the first time.
Of course no one would think of it, though of course some Basilisks would have - like him, however, they probably knew on
some level that it was never meant to be found. The Basilisk had hoped for that, had planned on it.
My power will not be abused.
"You will need a horse, Highness, if we are to travel through these woods with any ease. It is impossible, especially for you,
to travel through them on foot."
"Then bring me a horse," Culebra said. "As well as someone to lead it."
"You may ride with me, Highness."
Culebra sneered. "I ride only with people I trust. So far you have slaughtered hundreds of people merely because their
opinions differed from your own, you have tried to kill my friend, and you keep attempting to drug me. I do not trust you.
Therefore, I will ride alone and someone will lead the horse."
"No one can wander through the forest on foot for the hours we will be searching."
"Then you should have thought of that before you tried to kill the one person I would have been willing to ride with - next
time, I suggest you think before you act." Culebra turned away from the direction of Jorge's voice and waited tensely as his
horse was brought to him. He hated riding; even when he could see horses had never been his favorite thing. He'd always
been much happier to be close to the earth.
"Highness," Jorge said in a deceptively calm tone. "I have been patient with you up to this point. Try to remember that I
have killed more than two hundred people, and that if I was determined I could slip past those snakes to teach you some
manners."
Culebra slowly let go of the saddle he'd grasped to try and struggle up on the horse, and turned around. "It is you who
should be wary of my patience," he replied. "You did not kill over two hundred people - you gave the order and stood back
while your followers did the killing. That is quite different. You might indeed get past the snakes that wrap around me - but
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you would never get past the one that is behind you, waiting. Nor would you get past the one that hangs above you in the
tree overhead." He could feel the voice rising up in him, that other presence that seemed to be taking over with increasing
frequency. "My children might have forgotten the god they once worshipped, but my beauties remember everything.
Remember who I embody, and that one look is all it would take to kill you - and you do not want to die that way."
Silence met his words, and Cuebra used the chance to clumsily mount the horse, feeling stupid but having very little choice
- for he would let no one help him. Thankfully, the poor horse was tolerant, and probably used to him after all the time
they'd spent together.
"I do not appreciate being spoken to in such a way," Jorge finally said, his voice colder than Culebra had yet heard it. "You
are my prisoner."
"I am your god."
"You are my tool."
Culebra knew he turned away from the way his voice changed.
"Kill the woman!" Jorge bellowed. "That will teach the prince his place. Then he will take the elixir and we will be on our way
toward reviving a true god."
Rage burned white hot through Culebra. "We struck a bargain," he said. "Do not betray me in this, or you will regret it."
Jorge said nothing.
"I said do not betray me!" Culebra shouted, temper finally shattering. Across the field his voice boomed, echoed, as if the
small clearing somehow was able to amplify it. Beneath their feet, the ground trembled ever so slightly. All around him he
heard gasps, cries that were immediately cut off.
The forest fell silent. Even the waterfall seemed, for a moment, to falter.
"W-what was that?" Asked a voice Culebra did not recognize, except as one of Jorge's group.
"Do not betray me," Culebra said, and knew somehow that he was looking directly at Jorge.
"I only want the temple, Highness."
Culebra was silent, thoughts racing. The temple was best lost, but Jorge had already come close to betraying their
agreement.
Suddenly he was tired of it. What could they do even if they found the temple? No one knew anything about reviving a god -
certainly he didn't. Beyond that, he sensed picking a temple that would be lost over time was not the only precaution the
Basilisk had taken. He would have to trust to that.
Because he knew where the temple was, now that he had decided to find it. Now that he wanted to find it, the memories
spilled into his mind with all the force of the waterfall roaring in his ears.
"The temple is beneath us," Culebra said at last. "I would be willing to bet the entrance is behind the waterfall, deeper into
the cavern there than you or your team have probably gone. The way is long, hard, and treacherous - the Basilisk did not
want it found. Know this, however…"
"Yes?" Jorge asked.
"Cross me once, hurt anyone or anything that is precious to me, and I will kill you myself."
"Yes, Highness," Jorge said, and Culebra was more curious than ever about this man who so blithely ordered hundreds
killed, so calmly accepted a threat of death.
He also wondered why this man with the strange accent wanted so badly to resurrect a god for whom he held little or no
respect.
"Who are you, Jorge?" he asked as he allowed the man to finally take his arm, guide him toward the waterfall.
Jorge laughed, a far from pleasant sound - Culebra was struck by the sadness in it, but not moved. He was beyond anything
but contempt for this man. "I am nothing but a man trying to save his home. You are my key. Always, Basilisk, you have
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been the key."
The words struck Culebra like frozen rain. He said nothing, however, as the roar of the waterfall became deafening, making
him dizzy. Then he felt the spray of water on his face, and then a wash of damp cold as they passed from the sunlight and
into the dark caves.
Part Three
For love of my children, I gave up being able to see them.
~The Basilisk
Chapter Thirteen
"If I see one more dead body, I'm going to be sick," Fidel said tiredly as they rode through the trees. "How many have we
counted so far? That last camp…" He shuddered and looked as though he was close to being sick. Thankfully, they hadn't
been eating much more than was strictly necessary.
Corinos shook his head, grateful for the sunlight. He could not bear the dark right now. Every moment he expected to be
ambushed by whoever was killing the Black Roses they kept stumbling across. They'd made so many stops that they were
at least half a day behind in meeting up with Cortez and Culebra - he could not bear it, but it seemed important to try and
figure out why the Black Roses were being slaughtered. "I stopped counting after we hit thirty. It terrifies me, Fidel, that
someone so…full of rage lurks in this forest." He would not consider the possibility that the murderers had Culebra. If he did,
the panic would finally get the better of him.
"Are we much farther from this meeting spot of yours?"
Fidel shrugged. "When you hear a waterfall, my friend, you will know we are close." He nodded his head toward Ruisenor,
who traveled several feet ahead of them. "She seemed quite eager, surely that is a good sign."
"A waterfall," Corinos repeated, and sighed. At least there was no chance they would miss that particular landmark. He had
not known there was a waterfall up here, despite all his father's stories. "I wish that meant we would have time for a bath,
but probably not." Strange that his father had never mentioned it. He's always thought his father knew Piedre better than
almost anyone.
Then again, the Azul was the second largest mountain range in the world - only the Jagged Mountains that formed the
border between Pozhar and Schatten was greater. There, it was said, no one stood a chance of ever returning. Those who
went up the Jagged Mountains were never heard of again.
Not that too many were faring any better on the Azul. Corinos wanted badly to know who would slaughter the Black Rose
so…and why there were so many Black Rose up here. Scales and teeth, had they been building themselves up in secret?
He had so many people constantly on watch for such things…
Shaking his head, Corinos put aside the problems about which he could currently do nothing. He had only one goal - find
Culebra and take him home.
Then shake him senseless. Then tie him down and make it clear he was never leaving Corinos's sight again.
A cold chill suddenly raced down his spine and Corinos froze. In front of him, Fidel did the same. Further ahead of them,
Ruisenor too had stopped.
"Corinos…why do I suddenly feel so scared?"
"I…I don't-" Corinos's words were cut off as his horse suddenly tried to rear up, screaming in fear - then Corinos was thrown
off, slamming hard into a tree before hitting the ground. Dizzily he watched his horse turn and run - then realized there were
two horses running away.
Beneath him, for only a few brief seconds, the ground seemed to…move. Shake. Tremble. It was the eeriest, strangest,
most frightening thing he'd ever felt. The ground was not supposed to move that way.
The pain and confusion were too much, and Corinos only distantly heard Fidel call his name before the darkness swallowed
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him.
When he woke again, it was to moonlight above him and a crackling fire beside him. Trees surrounded him. Corinos slowly
sat up, groaning in pain as his left shoulder and head protested the movement, and looked around. "Merciful gods, what
happened?"
Fidel shook his head, little more than a shadow beside him, face just visible in the light of the small fire he'd lit. "I do not
know, my friend. I never want to feel the earth move like that again, that much I know. Never again."
Corinos agreed whole-heartedly. "I did not know the earth could move so. Shouldn't it be impossible?"
"A question I cannot answer, though yesterday I would have called you mad or drunk to think of such a thing." Fidel stared
gloomily at the fire, then shook himself. "The only time I have ever heard of the earth acting so…"
"Yes," Corinos said grimly. All the old legends about the days when the gods were lost. The greatest of Piedre's legends
said that the earth shook and cracked, and that by the end the world was completely different than what it had been before
the gods fell.
Culebra was missing…now the earth was trembling.
Corinos fought down the fear and panic trying to swallow him. He needed to find Culebra. He had to find him. Scales and
teeth, he was Culebra's bodyguard - Culebra was his entire world. He shouldn't be sitting here bemoaning minor aches and
pains, he should be doing something.
A hand landed on his shoulder, shaking him from his turmoil, and he looked up in surprise at Fidel.
"My friend, your thoughts are not usually so plain upon your face. That I can see what you are thinking so clearly in the dark
- calm down. If it is truly his Highness who caused the trembling…I would hazard to say he is winning."
The words tricked a smile from Corinos, and he nodded. "Thank you. Yes - Culebra generally prefers not to fight. He does
not shy away from confrontations, but he does not relish them. When he is riled, however…I never envied those who
angered him. I hope he is all right."
"Cortez won't let anything bad happen to him."
Corinos quirked a brow. "She is the one who first agreed to bring him here."
"She likes him, as I've said before. If these people are so bad they force him to do things to the very ground we walk
upon…I do not think she would cooperate." Fidel grinned. "Though if anyone could shake the entire world with a temper
tantrum, it would be Cortez."
"Let us hope nothing has gone so horribly wrong we cannot fix it. Let us also hope this waterfall we need to find is not too
far away, as it would appear we are now going to be walking."
"At least the horses did not kill us in their panic," Fidel said. "They very well could have - I thought, for a moment, that yours
had managed to throw you just right."
Corinos grunted. "I think the tree damaged my shoulder a bit, but otherwise probably saved me from worse damage. How
are you?"
"I've been better," Fidel said with a ghost of a smile. "My ankle is sore, but I believe it will be well enough by morning. I have
little choice in the matter, anyway. A sad pair we will make, my friend, when we finally show up to rescue your prince."
The image of them limping in to save Culebra from his kidnappers was absurd enough that Corinos could not help but laugh
- even when the movement jarred his shoulder and caused the pain in his head to flare up again. Still, the laughter was
welcome for all that, and beside him Fidel chuckled.
"Do we have any food, or did the blasted horses take all that as well?"
"I managed to cut the straps of mine when I realized they were panicking - yours reacted a moment before mine, so I had
time. This isn't the first time I've been thrown by a frightened horse. Scales and teeth, I hope it is the last."
Corinos grunted an agreement. "So we have little food and water, no real idea where we are, and are just wounded enough
that we'd probably lose even a simple fight."
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"Do not forget there are shadows stalking Black Roses."
"Of course," Corinos said with a sigh. "Anything else?"
"Oh, I'm certain I could think of something if I really tried. How about I just not?"
"Sound good to me."
Fidel flashed another brief smile, then began to rifle through a bag that was between them. "Luckily, this bag I never trust to
horses. If that cursed horse had run off with this, I would have tracked him down and given him a real reason to run away."
He rifled through it a moment longer, then came up with two narrow metal cases. They had seen better days, but Corinos
knew that the outward abuse proved just how solid the cases were - the contents would be in perfect condition. "Now, my
friend, the important questions - cigarette? Cigar? The cigars are sweet, Cortez prefers them. I think she forgot I have an
extra set of hers."
"The cigars," Corinos said.
Fidel tossed the slightly longer of the two metal cases at him, then flipped open the one he'd kept. He pulled out a thin
cigarette, just barely touching it to the flames of the small campfire. The acrid scent of burning tobacco filled the air, but
Corinos found it comforting. He lit his own cigar in the same manner, settling back when the cigar was properly burning, the
sweeter smoke of his cigar mingling with the sharper cigarette smell.
"We are a fine pair tonight, my friend. I am glad the horse took the alcohol, or we might truly be pathetic."
Corinos laughed briefly. "Bad enough we will be showing up bruised, exhausted, and limping - and all of that done by the
horses. I do not think what remains of my dignity could endure being drunk as well."
Fidel threw his head back and laughed. "True enough. Cortez would never let me live it down if I showed up in such a state.
Though after all this is over, my friend, I reserve the right to avoid sobriety for at least a week."
"I will drink to that," Corinos said, and went back to his cigar for a moment. "I will also be stealing more of this Cortez's
cigars. These are not the kind easily available to a merc, I should think."
"Ha! Cortez never let that stop her. I forget now what she did for the cigar maker, but he always cuts her a fine deal." Fidel
finished his cigarette and pulled out another. Smoke curled above the fire, just visible in the light.
Corinos relished his own cigar, something he'd not indulged in since Granito had died and left him Culebra's sole
bodyguard. The taste of sweet tobacco lingered on his lips as he took another pull. "I feel it is going to be a very long night,
and an even longer day tomorrow."
Fidel snorted. "It has been the longest several days of my life, lately. I keep hoping I will wake up, roll my eyes at myself,
and fall back asleep to dream of nothing."
"If only," Corinos said with a sigh. "Do we even know which way to go, anymore?"
"I thought we agreed not to list any more problems for the night. Northwest. We should eventually run into a waterfall."
Corinos rolled his eyes. "Do you always go by such vague directions?"
"I ask Cortez that each and every time she gets them from people. She tells me to be quiet." Fidel shrugged. "So I be quiet.
I do not invite right hooks, my friend. Anyway, your question is a stupid one, and shows just how hard a knock to the head
you took. I do not see your nightmare snake right now, but I have no doubt she will reappear."
Laughing, Corinos finished his cigar and then slowly lay down. Beside him, Fidel did the same. Both reached out to make
certain their swords were close to hand. "I do not think I will sleep well, but I suppose an effort should be made."
"Perhaps we will have pleasant dreams."
"So long as there is no more shaking, I do not care."
Fidel laughed softly, and eventually they drifted off to sleep.
"Scales and teeth, I do not think my shoulder will ever be the same," Corinos said with a groan as he tried to flex. His face
twisted in pain. "At least it is not dislocated, merciful gods anything but that."
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Fidel made a face. "Well, I hope it recovers soon, my friend, because my ankle informs me that by the end of the day, I will
probably not be walking on it."
"We are a sad, sad pair," Corinos said with a sigh, and finished putting out the fire. Around them the forest was gray with
hazy morning light - they had wanted to leave sooner, but had been loath to travel without light. He pulled his cloak tight
and gathered up their paltry gear. "Will you be all right walking, at least for a bit?"
"I will be fine," Fidel said, grimacing. "I think mostly it needs the exercise. So long as this adventure ends in a bottle of
something strong, I will have no complaints."
Chuckling, Corinos nodded and then turned to follow Ruisenor, who had shown up shortly after they awoke. He kept tense
and alert as they moved, dreading what sort of trouble might find them when they were woefully incapable of fighting it off.
The walk was hard, and got harder as the incline gradually became more and more noticeable. More than once they had to
stop so that Fidel could rest, and eventually his shoulder too began to complain of being used as they climbed over rocks
and other obstacles. Even Ruisenor, so patient and enduring, was showing signs of tiring.
"What did we do?" Fidel asked, panting. "Pick the worst part of the mountain on which to get thrown and more or less lost? I
was much better off a merc. This rescue business I will leave to you bodyguards."
Corinos was inclined to agree. "Come. If I stop again, I do not think I will be able to start."
"Agreed," Fidel said, and though his face was twisted with pain, he accept the hand Corinos offered and managed to
scramble over the latest set of rocks blocking their path.
They traveled another hour in silence, forcing themselves to move even when it seemed as though they could not go a step
further.
Suddenly Corinos stopped. "Do you…I think perhaps I am hearing things…"
Fidel frowned, listening intently. "We could be sharing delusions, but…that sounds like a waterfall to me. Come!"
Dredging up more energy, Corinos pressed on, helping Fidel as best he could. It still took them another hour and a half
before their goal finally came into view - a waterfall spilling over the cliff, pouring into a large pond, probably to move on to
an underground river. Everywhere was greenery, moss covered stones. If not for the fact that they'd all but killed themselves
to reach it, he would have thought the clearing beautiful.
As it was, he was thoroughly annoyed and distraught at the notable lack of blind princes…only a single man, sitting glumly
on a large rock on the far edge of the pond.
"Cortez!" Fidel said eagerly, then cried out and fell hard to the ground as his ankle finally gave out. "Scales and teeth!"
"Fi-Fidel!" The man - woman, Corinos realized now - stood up and started limping toward them, and Corinos could now see
that someone had sliced her right thigh open rather nicely.
Of course, it looked as though several people had gotten rather nice strikes in. Her face alone was a study in scars - across
her forehead, cheeks, one looked as though it had come very close to ruining her right eye. The marks and burn scars on
her throat painted a pretty clear picture as to what had made her voice so harsh and coarse. Her hair - he didn't know
women cut it that short. He wondered how many scars she had that weren't visible.
She should have been ugly, horrifying - he had seen men just as scarred who he could barely stand to look at. Cortez,
however, merely looked…interesting.
Corinos realized abruptly that he was being given just as thorough an examination.
"I would say I can see why he loves you, but of course your prince would not know how you look." Cortez smiled. "It is good
to meet you at last, Corinos the bodyguard."
"Where is he?"
Cortez's face fell. "I do not know. We were talking to the men who hired me…then they attacked me, six of them at once -
my leg is in bad shape, and my head still hurts from the knock it took. Bastards. When I woke up, it was alone. I cannot tell
where they've gone; it looks as though the horses went in every possible direction."
"They probably did," Corinos said, and shared a grimace with Fidel. "I am guessing you were unconscious when the earth
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started shaking."
"Shaking?" Cortez asked, blinking - and Corinos realized suddenly her eyes were a dark, dark blue. That was not a Piedren
color. "I definitely missed that. Why do you keep staring at me?"
Fidel laughed. "Cor, who doesn't stare at you?"
"My apologies," Corinos said. "I noticed suddenly that your eyes are blue."
"She's part Kundouin," Fidel said, seemingly oblivious to the dirty look Cortez shot him. "I think that's where she gets her
temper."
Corinos dared a smile. "Yes, I can see much evidence of that temper you have mentioned before. To judge by her
expression, I am also about to see the right hook you fear so much."
"Later, Cor," Fidel pleaded. "I'm already mostly dead, and we still have a prince to find."
Cortez nodded. "Later." She turned her attention back to Corinos. "I am happy to finally meet you, though I wish the
circumstances were better."
"Next time, don't kidnap him."
"No worries there," Cortez said with a wince. "Come on, I've got a sad little campsite on the other side of the pond. I don't
suppose you have food or something?"
Fidel grimaced. "No. The shaking spooked the horses, and they took almost everything with them after trying to kill us.
We've got a bit, but not much."
"Scales and teeth," Cortez said with a sigh. "I guess that's what happened to my horse." She turned to lead the way to the
other side of the pond. Then stopped. "Merciful gods, what is that!"
Corinos smiled.
Fidel heaved a sigh. "That is Ruisenor, his Highness's pet nightmare snake."
"She's beautiful," Cortez said, and slowly approached the gigantic snake, who uncoiled and reared up to bump against her
stomach. "I have never even heard of a snake like this. What is she?"
Corinos shook his head. "No one knows, not even his Highness."
"I love her scales," Cortez said admiringly. "They're a strange cross between black pearls and black diamonds." She stroked
Ruisenor's head, and Corinos was fascinated - the snake was normally only that affectionate with Culebra.
Any animosity he might have had left for Cortez - hard enough to maintain, in light of the exhausting journey and the
unexpected friendship with Fidel - died there. Ruisenor he trusted as he trusted precious few people. If the snake adored
her, that was enough for him.
"There is something strange about her though…" Cortez frowned deeply. "I cannot tell what though, and that is the second
time I have felt as though I am missing something important!"
Corinos looked up in the clear sky - of course the weather chose now to be nice - and then back down in the field.
Everywhere, the angle of the sun threw shadows. Almost everywhere. "She doesn't have a shadow," he said. "I noticed it
shortly after we left the palace to follow you. Ruisenor doesn't have a shadow."
Cortez looked at him, clearly startled, and her eyes widened, the blue becoming more apparent. "Neither did he! Scales and
teeth, neither did he!"
"Who?" Fidel asked. "That's impossible."
"Jorge, he called himself," Cortez said. "I did not like him. He…did not look right, and something about him bothered me."
Her frown deepened. "He did not have a shadow. That is what I noticed but did not realize. How is that possible? All things
cast a shadow."
Corinos shook his head. "I do not know, but at this point it is merely one more mystery." He looked at the two of them, and
they looked as exhausted and drained as he felt. "We should rest, at least for a couple of hours. Perhaps then we will have
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the energy and ability to find food. If we go on like this, we are guaranteed to die."
Cortez nodded in agreement and led the way to her little camp. "I could not move well enough, until recently, to gather wood
to make a fire."
"I will do it," Corinos said. "Only let me rest for a bit." He set his bag down and then promptly laid down, using the bag to
pillow his head. His eyes were too heavy to keep open, but anxiety kept him from falling immediately to sleep. Instead, he
listened to the other two talk.
"Let me look at your leg, Cor. You never could bind a wound to save your life."
"I'm still alive, aren't I?" Cortez countered. "Leave me alone."
"Be quiet," Fidel said patiently, and Corinos heard them fumbling, arguing, hands smacking before the sound of fabric
tearing ended the argument.
The air changed suddenly, and Corinos opened his eyes, not liking the tension that was suddenly thick enough to cut with a
knife.
Fidel stared hard at Cortez's thigh, but his expression was far from what Corinos rather thought it should be. Then he saw
why.
A black rose in full bloom. "You're a Black Rose?" he asked.
"No," Cortez said, voice sadder than anything Corinos had heard in a long time. "When I was young. I have not been part of
them for a long, long time."
"Then why have you obviously been trying to hide it?" Fidel asked, but Corinos had the sneaking suspicion Fidel already
knew the answer - and that Cortez knew he had figured the reason out.
He also knew that whatever was about to happen, he shouldn't be there. Repressing a sigh, wondering what else could
possibly go wrong, he hefted himself back up, grabbed his bag, and went to go find firewood.
And a place to take a short nap in peace. "Come on, Ruisenor," he said as the snake slithered up to him. "We can nap
together. If anyone bothers us, you can eat them."
Chapter Fourteen
"You were there that night," Fidel said quietly.
Cortez looked at the closed expression on his face and swore her heart was breaking. Why now? Why couldn't this have
happened later, when they didn't already have so much on their shoulders?
Why couldn't it have stayed a secret?
"Yes," she finally answered.
"You were never going to tell me."
"No," Cortez replied.
Fidel curled his hand into a fist and pulled away from her, looking out over the pond and waterfall. "You don't kill, Cortez. It's
the one job you don't take. Were my parents some sort of exception?"
"I was against it. I argued until I thought they were going to beat me into silence." Cortez sighed. "If I had wanted to be
there, don't you think I would have said something when I saw you standing there? I kept my mouth shut." She looked sadly
at Fidel. "You should have gone on with your life."
Fidel's face clouded. "My life was ruined that night."
"You could have rebuilt it."
"This is my life now."
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Cortez shook her head. "This? This is not a life. A thousand times I have wished I could change the decision I had to make
when I was too young. Now? I am too old. You, though…you could still change your life, Fidel."
"You could have saved me years of searching," Fidel said, rage blazing in his eyes as he finally turned to look at her again.
"Cortez! I have spent more than a decade trying to find the people who killed my parents…and this whole time…"
"I was selfish," Cortez said. "You are the first real friend I've ever had. I did not want you to hate me." She glared at the
grass. "Besides, I have not seen any of them since that night. After they refused to listen, after I saw just what exactly it
meant to be in a cult, I left. They tried to stop me…I convinced them to let me go."
Fidel looked at her, a thousand thoughts and emotions flickering across his face. "We have been finding dead Black Rose
all along our way up the mountain."
Cortez frowned, confused by the shift in subject and the words themselves. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that we have counted at least thirty, probably more like fifty, corpses in the forest as we traveled. All of them had
the mark of the Black Rose."
"That makes no sense…we both thought it was the Black Rose paying us. Jorge and the others were clearly expecting me.
They asked for Cortez…they thought I was a man, but that is something to which I never pay any mind."
Fidel frowned and shook his head. "So perhaps not all the Black Rose are dead."
"Perhaps we do not know enough about what is going on." Cortez glared in thought, mind whirling as she tried to think what
it all meant - and where they had taken Culebra.
A hand rested gently on her uninjured leg, and Cortez looked up to see Fidel watching her. "As per usual, Cor, you go
straight to business and completely miss whatever else I am attempting to say."
Cortez eyed him tiredly. "What else is there to say? If I thought killing me would accomplish anything, I would let you. I may
yet, if that's what you want - but first we save the prince, Fidel."
Fidel rolled his eyes. "Always business."
"It was all we could have," Cortez said softly, dropping her eyes to the grass.
The hand on her leg tightened. "Ah, Cor. You're always so stupid."
"Watch it, Fidel." Cortez looked up to glare at him - but stopped short when she saw him smiling.
"As I said, all we saw coming up this mountain were dead bodies - all of them Black Rose. Someone angry was
responsible; someone vengeful. Perhaps even the White Rose I once called family, though it is not their style to be so
violent. All I could think, Cor, was that it could very easily have been me causing such a blood bath…and when I saw your
tattoo, it made me cold to think you could very easily have been one of the bodies I found. I do not want that."
"Fidel…" Cortez stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.
"Ah, Cor, you've been my only friend too - and more besides. Haven't I tried to make that obvious more than once? You're
more important to me than revenge." He grinned. "Even if you are old enough to nearly be my mother."
Cortez narrowed her eyes - then launched herself at Fidel, sending them both tumbling to the ground. "Your mother? I think
not. Call me that aga-" Fidel cut her off with a kiss, and Cortez immediately returned it, and it was the best kiss she'd ever
had.
Even if they both needed a bath, and Fidel a shave, and this was the worst possible moment to finally resolve everything. "I
hope you did not ever kiss your mother like that, Fidel."
Fidel looked as though he might be sick. "Merciful gods, do not even say such a thing." His hands slid over her, touching
and exploring in a way that made it clear they would never be mere friends again. Cortez closed her eyes and sternly
reminded herself why they had no time - and she wasn't terribly certain she could do much without a nap and food, anyway.
She stole another kiss, then reluctantly rolled off Fidel.
Her thigh hated her, and she would be willing to bet Fidel's ankle was no better. "Come, we need to rest. Then we must
figure out where they have taken our prince."
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"Our prince?" Fidel's brows shot up. "Why are you so possessive, suddenly?"
Cortez quirked a brow and laughed. "Jealous?"
"What have I to be jealous of?" Fidel smirked. "Even if you wanted him, I am quite certain Corinos would not stand for it -
and I think his Highness was quite clear on the matter. So, if you are pining away, I shall just be the one to console you."
"Idiot," Cortez said with a laugh. "All I meant was that after all this trouble, I do not like handing him over to that lot.
Something about that man…"
"Jorge, you said he called himself."
"Yes," Cortez said, glowering. "A man with no shadow. How is that possible? In all my travels, I have never heard of such a
thing. Nor have I ever heard of a giant snake - or any snake - that is equally strange." She looked around the clearing.
"Where did the bodyguard go?"
"To get out of the way of the fight I sensed," Corinos said dryly from behind her, and Cortez rolled her eyes. "I see you have
resolved things rather more peacefully."
Grinning, Cortez motioned for him to sit. "Yes. I guess once we find your prince, you'll get your turn?"
Corinos did not reply, merely joined them and set down the firewood bundled in his arms. Slowly he began to build a fire,
carefully stoking the small flame he managed to light, gradually building the fire up. "How is your leg?"
"Bastards got me good, that's for certain," Cortez said with a grimace. "It should be all right for a bit of walking. Hopefully we
won't run into much fighting. Ha! Like we'd be that lucky. Scales and teeth, what is going on here?"
Corinos lifted a brow at that. "You are the ones who were paid to kidnap him, you tell me."
Cortez mimicked the look. "You are the all knowing bodyguard, you tell me what has become of your charge."
"That is not funny," Corinos said, humor vanishing like the sun overtaken by storm clouds.
"My apologies," Cortez said. "It was a poor jest. They can not have gone far, not if whatever happened spooked the horses
so badly. If you did not see or hear them as you came up, then they must be going higher up the mountain."
Corinos's face clouded. "That is what I fear. There is no way Culebra could make it up the mountain alive, not when they
reach the point where they'll have to climb and scale. It is madness to think he could."
"Would they truly be that stupid, my friend?" Fidel asked.
"Hey!" Cortez interrupted, something finally occurring to her. "Why did you two arrive together? How did you know each
other? And why are you calling him friend?"
Fidel threw his head back and started laughing so hard he fell over in the grass.
Cortez looked at him and then rolled her eyes. "So you tell me how my partner came to be so friendly with the bodyguard
his Highness said we should fear."
"He bought me a drink," Fidel said, still sniggering in the grass. "We got into a fight with Che's gang while trying to rest at
old lad Rosario's house. Then that nightmare snake attacked me. Do not underestimate his pretty face, Cor. Making him
angry is as bad as upsetting you."
"Which you are rapidly doing," Cortez said, fighting to keep a smile from her face. "So let me make certain I understand
your story. While the prince and I were struggling through this mountain, you were playing in town and making new friends."
She smiled sweetly, knowing exactly how ominous it looked on her scarred face.
Fidel blanched. "I was working hard! Very hard. We have hardly stopped, trying to find you. And I have even gotten along
with that nightmare snake." He motioned to the far side of the fire, where Ruisenor was curled up and seemed for all the
world to be fast asleep.
Corinos reached out and stroked her scales. After a moment, Cortez did the same. "She is truly a beautiful snake. I have
never seen her like. However did the prince find her?"
"She found the prince," Corinos replied, "and she has come all this way to find him again."
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Cortez smiled and continued to stroke along the slick, glistening black scales. "She seems as tired as the rest of us."
"Probably, after having to lead us around everywhere. I hope it is only exhaustion that keeps her still, because if she rests
because she has lost the trail…"
At that, Ruisenor lifted her head and seemed to stare directly at him.
Fidel swallowed and held his hands up. "My apologies, nightmare."
Seemingly satisfied, Ruisenor coiled up and went back to sleep.
Corinos smirked at Fidel.
"Oh, shut up," Fidel grumbled. "I just bet that snake sleeps with his Highness, doesn't she? I wonder if she approves of you
sleeping with his Highness."
"Prince Culebra said she approves of me."
Fidel snickered. "You probably were not in the bed at the time."
"I can punch him for you, if you like," Cortez said with exaggerated congeniality.
Corinos flashed a smile. "I have heard much about your right hook, my lady, but I have yet to see it."
"Oh, really?" Cortez's brows went up and then she shot a suspicious look at Fidel. "What exactly, dear heart, have you been
saying about me?"
Fidel held up his hands in surrender. "Only that I love you and would never do anything to make you angry."
"Well, that's okay then," Cortez replied.
Corinos rolled his eyes. "Ruisenor, I think you should eat them."
The snake seemed to ripple, scales flashing in the light of the sun and fire, but otherwise did not stir.
"Fine, be that way."
"I don't suppose we have anything to make coffee?" Cortez asked. "It seems a pity that we have this fire but nothing to put
on it."
Fidel laughed and fumbled around until he managed to retrieve his dropped saddlebag. "I sorely miss making the horse
carry this, let me tell you. Be grateful I did not let him carry all the supplies."
Corinos rolled his eyes, but set to work helping put together some sort of meal.
Several hours later, as evening fell, darkness overtaking the sky, Cortez stirred from where she slept cured up with Fidel -
something she was already addicted to doing. Slowly sitting up, feeling much better than she had in awhile, Cortez looked
around and realized something was missing.
Someone. Looking around a bit more, she saw Corinos had wandered off closer to the pond, standing on the bank with
Ruisenor twined around him.
They made a breathtaking sight - the glistening snake wrapped around the dark, solemn bodyguard, staring down at where
the early moon was reflected in the dark water.
Beside her, Fidel stirred and slowly sat up, and she pressed a finger to his lips to stop whatever he might say. A moment
later he followed her gaze, and grew still.
The moment seemed to stretch on forever, but Cortez knew it must have only been a couple of minutes.
Corinos must have heard or sensed them, or perhaps Ruisenor alerted him, for a second later he turned and saw them.
"You're awake."
"You should have woken us," Cortez said reprovingly. "We are wasting time."
"We needed the rest," Corinos replied. "Where we are going, we will need it. Do not forget that we have no idea what we
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are facing, what to expect. The very last thing we should do is rush in exhausted and injured. Regretfully, there is little we
can do about the injuries." He paused, then spoke again, voice soft. "Basilisk willing today is not our day to die."
The words were old, mostly fallen out of use. Cortez wondered why Corinos, of all people, chose to say them. Well, it hardly
mattered. Standing, grateful that her leg held, Cortez strapped her sword belt back on and then set to burying what little
remained of the fire.
Fidel moved around packing their few belongings, dispersing everything among their packs, abandoning the saddlebag he
had carried to that point. When everything was ready, they joined Corinos by the pond. "So where are we going?"
Corinos pointed to the waterfall. "Ruisenor woke earlier, which woke me, and I followed her that way. At first, it seems only
to be a long cavern…but if you keep going…" Corinos shook his head. "If I had thought for a moment I could have managed
alone…"
"I would have done the same," Cortez said. "Let's go."
Nodding, Corinos waited until Ruisenor had slithered away and then walked just behind her, the two of them leading the
way as they traveled to and then slowly behind the waterfall. Cortez clung to the rough, wet rock face with one hand, in no
hurry to slip and fall into the rushing falls. The spray hit her face, soaked a good portion of her hair and clothes, but at last
they were past the waterfall and into dark, damp cavern behind it.
Their steps were drowned out by the rushing fall at first, but as they went deeper, the light rapidly fading, every sound
began to echo. Nothing fought back the dark but a single torch that she assumed Corinos had created earlier. "We need
more light if we're to go much further."
"No, we don't," Corinos replied, walking unflinchingly forward, as though the unrelenting dark that was devouring them was
scarcely worth his notice.
Given they were trying to rescue the man he loved, Cortez supposed it wasn't.
A few minutes of stumbling, tripping, and cursing later she saw why.
The cavern seemed to dead end, as she stumbled into Corinos's back. He took her hand, though, and kept walking, and
she realized that the cavern kept going, a narrow passage way revealed behind the wall she thought they'd run up against.
Suddenly, there was light.
The rocks themselves seemed almost to glow as they continued down the narrow passage - a passage that was slanting
gradually downward as it twisted and turned, leading them deeper and deeper into the earth.
It was too smooth and perfect to be natural. At some point in time, someone had created the passageway. She thought she
knew who, and the thought made her shiver. Why would the Basilisk have made such a passage?
Cortez drew a sharp breath as bits of the conversation she'd heard before the bastards had attacked her came back. "Oh,
scales and teeth." The sound of her own voice in the dark passage would have made her jump, if she hadn't been so
terrified already. "I remember. Scales and teeth, I remember what Jorge said before they tried to break my skull in half."
"What?" Corinos asked, turning sharply around, eyes strange looking in the eerie light of the glowing rocks. "What did they
say?"
"They…that bastard Jorge said something about making him a god. He wanted Culebra to find the Lost Temple." She
paused, unable to accept her own thoughts. "Is this…could it be…"
Corinos said nothing, merely turned back around and resumed walking. "Why would they do such a thing?" he asked
quietly.
"They got me before the conversation got that far. I am sorry."
"It little matters," Corinos said with a grunt. "If you had tried anything, they would have killed you."
Fidel grumbled in agreement. "Cortez, I am confounded you are alive."
"Culebra," Cortez said softly. "If I am alive, it is no doubt because of him."
"I've gone no further than this," Corinos said, coming to an abrupt halt. "I suggest from here on out we speak as little as
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possible."
Cortez stared. Before them was a long, twisting staircase carved from black stone - she thought it was black, anyway. The
strange, glowing rocks around them did not offer quite enough light to be certain, however. Further down, the stairway
vanished into darkness. All around them were the glowing stones, interspersed with wet, glistening rock. On either side of
the stairway was only darkness - she could not tell if it was merely shadow, or if falling from the stairs would be a very bad
idea.
She could not repress a shiver. "Who would want to come all the way in here? Who would go down there willingly?"
"Someone with no reason to fear the dark," Corinos replied. He dropped his torch to the ground and stamped it out, then
drew his sword and started down the stairs.
Cortez sighed and did the same, then drew her cloak tightly closed. "It's going to get cold, I suspect. I cannot see how it
would be warm, in a place like this." She took one last look at the stairs, at Corinos already halfway down them, at the just
visible glistening of Ruisenor's scales even further down, then hefted her sword and followed.
Chapter Fifteen
The feeling that more than one person dwelt within him was growing stronger by the minute.
No…it felt more like part of him was firmly locked away and could not get out. Could not? Would not?
It was hard to tell.
What Culebra did know was that he did not want to be here. He wanted to be miles away, safe in his room, curled up in
Corinos's arms.
He also wanted the hand around his arm to let go. "Unhand me," he said, and jerked away.
"Highness, the way is treacherous and-"
"And you had best be careful of your own feet. I do not require your assistance." Culebra pulled ahead of Jorge and walked
confidently on, memories fluttering in his head much as they had in the Temple of Oblivar.
Once, the Basilisk had carved this place to be his retreat; his own private sanctuary, built where no one else would ever
choose to go. All around him was the sort of darkness he lived with every day of his life. It slowed the others down, made
them nervous.
At his feet, every now and then he could feel the brush of scales against his ankles. "It will warm soon, beauties," he
soothed, able to feel how much they did not like the cold.
The ground changed as they reached the bottom of the long staircase that led down into the heart of the cavern temple the
Basilisk had once called home, had chosen to call his grave. Where the stairs had been rough, to prevent slipping, this
entrance hall was as smooth as glass.
Smooth enough that three people slipped and fell hard, crying out in pain and surprise. Culebra smirked. "Watch your step."
He drew back sharply as he felt Jorge get too close. "Do not touch me again, unless I give your permission."
"Highness, I do not like the way you-"
"I do not like the way you attempted to kill my friend, slaughtered hundreds, and are trying to force me to do something I do
not want to do. If you touch me again, you will regret it." He could still feel the slimy touch of Jorge's hand on his arm. At
this moment, he would give up all the power in the world for a bath - and Corinos to share it with.
"How do we get in boss? What is all this?"
Culebra smirked and stood silent as the group examined the massive stone doors that sealed off the temple. "In all the
sanctuaries, the gods created pictures of one another - that their children might know all the gods that created the world,
their brothers and sisters. Nine gods created the world…they all are represented here. How do so many hard-bitten, worldly
cultists not recognize the Holy Nine?"
"The Dragons of the Three Storms," Jorge said, and Culebra knew he pointed to the highest images carved deep into the
massive doors. Three great dragons writhing in the clouds, playing in the storms, in the sky and sea. "The Sacred Firebird of
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Pozhar." On the rightmost door, just below the dragons, a bird with fiery plumage clinging to the branch of a great tree. "The
Faerie Queen and Guardians." All down the left side of the door was carved three figures - a woman of unbelievable beauty,
delicate wings on her back; on her right was a Pegasus, strong and loyal. On her left was a Unicorn, proud and faithful.
"I know all those," a woman said impatiently. "Of course we know the gods."
Jorge seemed not to hear her, and when the others too said nothing, the woman made an impatient noise and then fell
silent.
"Licht," Jorge said finally, and Culebra heard him move toward the door, knew somehow that Jorge would touch the last
image carved into the great doors. Right beneath the firebird was the image of a man, rays of sunlight emanating from
behind him. He was simple, understated, nothing like his siblings in all their glory.
Pain lanced through Culebra, so deep and harsh it took his breath away, forced him to reach out to catch and steady
himself. "Yes, Licht. First of the gods to be lost."
Licht who felt too deeply.
"My power will not be abused. Not by you. Not by anyone."
"I'm not going to abuse it. I'm going to use it to put everything as it should have always been."
"I will not allow it!"
Culebra shook off the echoing words, feeling cold. He hugged himself and tried to bring his thoughts to focus on the
problems at hand.
"So how do we open it?" A man's voice, almost petulant sounding, asked into the silence. "There's no keyholes or anything."
"Keys would be awkward in the dark," Culebra said calmly.
"There's plenty of light," a different man said - then suddenly fell silent, as his own words struck him.
Jorge laughed. "So, Highness, show us how to open the door."
Culebra sneered. "You profess to want to return me to godhood, you wear the mark of the Rose, call yourself after the
Stone Rose of legend…yet you know nothing of the temples which honor the lord you claim to worship?" He turned toward
where Jorge seemed to stand. "I will have your true purpose in this before I go a step further."
"We want to see our Lord restored," Jorge replied calmly. "To show the world that Piedre, too, has not lost faith in its god."
"You are a liar," Culebra said. He could feel something in him snapping, overriding the fear and dread that were heavy in his
stomach. Part of him knew…knew what Jorge was trying to do…knew it had been tried before…knew he had to stop it once
again.
No matter what that meant.
Touching fingers to the snake coiled loosely around his neck, calming and collecting himself, Culebra breathed out in a
long, silent sigh and then stepped forward. He heard boots scuff and slide on the glass-smooth floor as people scrambled to
get out of his way, and then he felt the cold, smooth stone of the massive doors. No man would ever be able to move them;
only the ancient spell work thrumming deep within the stone would move them.
He let his fingers wander the deep carvings, fingers finding what his mind remembered, fleshing the hazy memories out,
then began to seek out the triggers he knew were there though just an hour ago he'd had no idea this entire place existed.
Soft snicks echoed in the entryway as he pressed the hidden triggers, six in all. The echoes deepened, almost booming with
their force, as the gigantic doors unlocked and slowly began to open.
Warmth washed over them, dissipating the chill clinging to them. Thick in the air was the scent of roses, and Culebra
wrinkled his nose in distaste. He didn't care if they were the Basilisk's flower - he did not like that smell.
Behind him, Jorge and the others had not moved. Culebra left them to stand and gawk, striding forward through the doors
as they stopped moving, boots clicking as he stepped onto a floor that he knew had been covered with white tiles. The
cavern in which he stood was massive, towering far above his head. Most of the ceiling and a portion of the curving walls
were covered in the glowing stones that provided light where none would ordinarily be.
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The cavern itself was notably absent of ceremonial miscellany. No altars, symbols, nothing of the sort. There were rugs,
black and white and gray, in myriad patterns and designs. Places to rest, talk. In the very center of the room was a pit
where a fire could be lit -thought it wasn't required. Spells set when the temple was built kept everything warm. Various
passageways scattered along the wall hinted at the rooms that lay beyond. Given the size of the main chamber, and of the
Azul Mountains themselves, the actual size of the temple was impossible to gauge.
Culebra turned around as he heard the others enter. "Welcome to the Temple of Lagrima."
"It does not look much like a temple," Jorge said.
"How would you know?" Culebra replied. "It is obvious to me you have no idea what a temple looks like."
"You know nothing about me," Jorge said. "I have been in many temples, and not a one of them looked like this."
Culebra pondered that bit of information, and stored it away to make use of later. "It is of no concern to me how many
temples you have or have not seen. This is a temple, it is a fine one, and more to the point this is where you wanted me to
take you.
"What's the point, anyway?" the woman with the beautiful but empty voice said. "It's all pretty, but why down here? Where
no one can see?"
A wave of sadness washed over Culebra at the carelessly spoken words. "All of this was created with the hope that
someday, someone might see. Instead of a place of joy, it became a grave."
Only silence met his words, thick and anxious.
Jorge was the one to break the silence, his strange, unpleasant voice filled with impatience. "Where do we go next,
Highness?"
"I have done my part, and I will assist you no longer."
"We're going to make you a god and this is how you act?"
"I do not want to be a god…nor do I for a moment believe that is what you want to do."
"Of course it is," a woman answered sharply. "We've worshipped the Basilisk for centuries. The other gods are apparently
returning, why shouldn't ours?"
Culebra sneered "With you as my faithful retainers? No cultist is that humble."
"We're not cultists!" A man said sharply.
"No?" Culebra asked. "Then you are merely murderers."
He heard snarled curses, the sound of a weapon being drawn - then more curses as the action was cut off.
"Enough," Jorge snarled. "Do not try it."
"He can't talk to us like that!"
Culebra remained silent.
"Enough," Jorge repeated. "Remember those things coiled around him, and keep in mind they could be distracting you from
the ones that are hiding. He is all that remains of the Basilisk; angering him will earn you only death."
Jorge's boots clicked on the tile floor as he approached Culebra. "Highness…"
"I will say and do as I please," Culebra said. "The sooner this ends, the better it will be for all of us."
"Then perhaps you can give us some indication as to where we should be going?"
Culebra shook his head. "Must I do everything for you? Can you not feel it? The gods have long been lost, but some part of
you surely must feel the lingering echoes of he who made this land, the people who inhabit it."
"Highness, my patience with you is wearing thin."
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"Amusingly enough, I never had any patience for you."
"You are not a god yet, Highness," Jorge said, voice growing cold. "Do not be too arrogant."
"I am of royal blood," Culebra retorted. "Arrogance cannot be helped."
He thought he heard a laugh, quickly smothered, and it improved his mood slightly to see that not all of Jorge's men were
completely mindless.
Jorge began to snap orders, sending three of his people back to watch the massive doors. The rest he scattered about the
room, minus two whom he ordered to stay with him. "Highness, you said the sooner this ended the better. It will end soonest
if you show us where to go. You have done so splendidly so far, you may as well continue."
Only because he had no intention of letting Jorge live, once he determined what the man was really plotting. Killing Jorge
should resolve the matter, but he'd feel better knowing what that matter was. Two hundred people lay dead on the mountain
because of this man. Culebra wanted to know why.
Deep in his mind, memories stirred, telling him that he already knew.
Not quite, though. The full weight of the memories were sealed with his power
To be forgotten. Lost. No one will abuse my power, no matter what I must do to ensure that. My eyes were not meant for
that…
"Very well," Culebra said with a long-suffering sigh. "This way." He strode forward, toward a passageway off to his left. It
was smaller than the others, and situated so that it fell in shadow, easy to miss unless you looked carefully.
There was precious little light along the passageway, he knew. Even without his memories, the constant sound of stumbling,
falling, and cursing would have indicated to him that he could see better than anyone else.
Not that he had ever seen the temple; no, only twice had he ever uncovered his eyes. His brothers had helped him make
the temple, had conveyed to him its appearance. After its completion, their visits had been seldom. Only one of his brothers
had never minded the deep, dark cavern.
"Darkness consume, Highness!" Jorge snapped. "Where are you taking us?"
Culebra stopped, turned, and wondered if they could see him at all. "To a place that was meant to be forgotten. A place the
children of Piedre let be forgotten, because they did not understand what had happened. You told me to guide you, and so I
do. If you would prefer we go back…"
"It's no wonder they had so much trouble finding him," Jorge groused. "How in the world did they think to look here?"
"They believed in the Basilisk then, wanted badly to find their god even as they wondered if he had betrayed them," Culebra
said, turning around and continuing to walk. "Love for their lord drove them to look in every last crevice. Wouldn't you keep
looking, if you loved someone enough?"
Jorge's voice was surprisingly fervent as he replied. "I would do anything."
"Yes," Culebra said, feeling another's voice well up inside him. "Anything. Sometimes, though, it is possible to go too far."
Jorge's only response was silence, and a sharp curse as he stumbled over something in the dark.
The ground beneath them was rough, uneven, but after several more minutes of walking it began to smooth out. As the
sounds of stumbling and cursing lessened and then finally ceased, Culebra realized that light was finally appearing again.
He had not remembered if there was light before the end of the tunnel or not…if it had been added afterward.
Finally they reached the end, which he knew from memory but was also apparent by the glass-smooth slickness of the floor.
As a matter of fact, the floor, walls and ceiling here were glass - rich, glistening black glass made by his brother Zhar Ptitka.
No fire but his would ever burn hot enough to make such glass.
A door was set into it, plain but for the mark of the Basilisk carved into the center - a large, sinuous snake, a rose lying
before it.
Culebra shivered, trembled, hugging himself tightly as the power emanating from the sealed room overwhelmed him. He
sank slowly to his knees, willing everything that washed over him to go away. He had done it once, must he do it again?
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"Don't," he whispered softly, words for Jorge, everyone else fading from his mind. "Leave it sealed. Leave it buried."
"No," Jorge said, though he did not sound as smug or threatening as usual. "No pain can compare."
"You are no better, all the pain you've inflicted. The blood that stains your hands. Wrongs are not undone by still greater
wrongs. It leads only to sorrow."
Jorge stepped past him, and Culebra slowly forced himself to stand. "You know nothing about sorrow," Jorge said. "Nothing
at all."
"I died to prevent more sorrow from occurring," Culebra said in a voice that was most definitely not his own. It carried a tone,
a weight, that matched the darkness around them.
Boots turned hard enough to squeak on the glass floor, an odd sound to mix into the severity that otherwise dominated the
small space. Around them, Jorge's followers had fallen into a stark, glaring silence. Culebra could feel the uncertainty, the
fear, that was ever growing in them. It was too late, of course - they had all helped in the killings Jorge had ordered.
Nothing they could do would repair the wrongs already committed. Lives that were not theirs to take, they had stolen. Even
Zhar Ptitka, most merciful of all the gods, would not forgive such a crime as that.
"You failed!" Jorge snarled. "You failed miserably! I have studied all the histories, Basilisk. I know things people have
forgotten. You who could have helped, left my people instead to suffer. I will not allow it. I love them too much. We live in
terror, in constant fear, trapped in a cycle-"
"From which you somehow broke free?" Culebra interrupted. "Do you really think you are free of his hold? Ridiculous. You
are as trapped here as you were there."
"I am free," Jorge hissed. "I will free my people, even if I must destroy them all to do it."
"That is the wrong way to do it," Culebra replied, knowing it was futile.
"No," Jorge said stubbornly, and then suddenly his hand closed over Culebra's wrist.
Culebra silently bid his snakes be still, barely in time to prevent Jorge's being fatally bitten. No…he would not leave this to
his beauties. This ran too deep for that. Jorge was his responsibility. Perhaps, to some degree, Jorge was also his fault.
He went without protest as Jorge yanked him forward, hard, all but throwing him against the door.
"Open it."
Culebra obeyed, holding his hands up to the sigil carved in the middle of the door and immediately finding the catches that
triggered the door. He stepped back as it swung outward, and the scent of roses that spilled out was overwhelming. He
clapped a hand over his mouth and nose to block out the worst of the rich, too-sweet smell.
Behind him, no one moved.
He stepped aside and waited for Jorge to move.
Instead, Jorge grabbed his arm and shoved Culebra ahead of him.
"What do you see?" Culebra asked softly, for nowhere in his memory would the full of it reside. This room, when he'd died,
had been a simple chamber for meditation, finding peace.
"A stone altar," Jorge said. "Gray, like smoke. The walls and floor are black. White silk is laid over the altar…and a rose…it
is true…"
The rose flashed through Culebra's mind, the very last thing the Basilisk had seen before he gazed upon his own reflection.
A single, perfect rose carved from stone. Nothing more beautiful, more absolutely perfect, existed anywhere in the world. He
could tell from Jorge's voice, the soft, awed tone, that it was indeed entrancing, enthralling. All who saw it would find it
difficult to look away.
Nothing in the world was more beautiful than the black stone rose that lay upon the altar.
All the power of death and destruction resided in that rose.
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To claim the great part of the power of the Basilisk, all anyone had to do was destroy the perfect rose.
No one would be capable, least of all one such as Jorge. No one who believed in perfection would ever be capable of
destroying it.
"There it is," Culebra said levelly. "All the power of death and destruction resides there, yours for the taking. Though it's not
enough, I suppose, is it? Only I have the ability to completely and utterly destroy. You want me to destroy your people."
"To save them," Jorge said forcefully. "To break them free of the cycle."
Culebra shook his head, mouth twisted in sadness. "You are not the one to do that."
"Yes, I am!" Jorge said, and his voice held an edge of desperation.
"My power will not be abused. Not by you. Not by anyone."
"I'm not going to abuse it. I'm going to use it to put everything as it should have always been."
"I will not allow it!"
"I thought you were different! That you might understand me! Have I not understood you all this time?"
"That is not the same and you know it."
"So you will take but not give."
"…You know that is not true. I will gladly do anything for you - but not that. My powers will not be abused. You are going
about this the wrong way. Please…"
"Don't do it," Culebra said. "You will not succeed where a god failed."
"All the gods failed," Jorge said bitterly. "I have no faith left in them. They are good only for the power they were stupid
enough to leave behind."
Culebra smiled sadly. "Licht loved his children, enough he would do anything for them." He motioned toward the rose. "If
you want the power, then take it. All you need do is destroy the rose."
He heard Jorge inhale sharply. "Impossible. Why would you want to destroy something like that? It's…perfect."
"So you will slaughter hundreds of people but not destroy one pretty piece of stone?" Culebra asked.
Jorge laughed, sounding once more like the despicable man who had first demanded the prince bring them down here. "Ah,
Highness, I spared your brother a very costly private war. The Black Rose was up to nothing that would have ended well.
They were, as you have so often said, a cult."
"That is no excuse. If you are planning on annihilating your entire country then you must be willing to destroy the rose."
Jorge laughed again. "Do you think I'm stupid, Highness? You stand before me with your eyes bound and tell me the rose
will give me the power I seek? No…the gods are foolish, but they are not that foolish. The Basilisk made certain his
greatest power stayed where he could fully control it - with him. The rest of your power is here, and you will need it for the
full power of your eyes to take effect."
Behind them, Jorge's men had remained silent throughout. Now, however, they began to stir. Culebra could feel the anger
and fear filling the room, and wondered what would happen to Jorge now.
"Jorge-"
"If you want to live, I suggest you put that sword away. Worse things than you, I have fought against and won. You have
come with me this far, I should hate to lose you now." The tone of his voice was freezing, and Culebra's heart sank as he
listened to the group subside.
Why did no one ever learn?
Culebra turned and snatched the rose from the table, then bolted past Jorge, the others parting for him as he passed, and
vanished into the dark tunnel that led back to the main chamber of the temple.
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The rose was warm in his hand, as if it were alive. Delicate stone thorns pricked his fingers, blood dripping onto them and
down the stem of the rose.
So fragile and delicate, and all he had to do was shatter it.
Except he didn't want to. He didn't want the burden again, the weight…the loneliness…
Culebra spilled back into the main chamber and paused, not certain now what he was really doing - only that remaining
back in that small space was a bad idea. Behind him he head the others following, but in the dark they would struggle.
"Culebra."
That voice. Culebra drew a breath, unable to believe what he was hearing. It hadn't been that long, but it suddenly felt like
forever. He tried to speak, to call out, but found he couldn't. All he could do was wait as feet pounded across the tiled floor,
and hold tight as Corinos embraced him.
Chapter Sixteen
Corinos could not believe it. Surely he was sleeping. After everything he'd been through… "Culebra." He whispered the
prince's name and held him even tighter, wanting nothing more than never to let go of the man in his arms.
"Corinos," Culebra said his name just as softly, one arm wrapping tightly around his waist.
Finally, reluctantly, Corinos drew back. "Scales and teeth, Highness!" He grabbed Culebra by the shoulders and started
shaking him hard. "I am going to lock you in your room for the rest of your life!"
"So long as you're locked in there with me, Corinos."
The words stopped him, and Corinos stared for a moment, then with a soft groan lowered his head and covered Culebra's
mouth with his own, half-expecting resistance but meeting none, and every last bit of frustration and pain was suddenly
worth it to realize that he was, at last, able to hold Culebra as he'd always wanted.
"You need a shave," Culebra said with a soft laugh when he finally pulled away and he lifted one hand to touch Corinos's
face.
"I've been busy tracking down troublesome princes, Highness."
"Well, that's permissible then."
"Highness…" The momentary levity faded from his voice as Corinos drank in the sight of Culebra in his arms, happy to be in
his arms, not struggling with himself over it. Then staring was no longer enough, and Corinos lowered his head to take
another kiss, unable to believe that it was all real.
"I'm sorry," Culebra said eventually. "I'm sorry, Corinos."
Corinos growled and held him tighter. "Oh, you're going to be," he said. "You're going to be very, very, very sorry by the
time I'm done with you." And didn't he just love the way Culebra shivered and pressed closer.
He let go of Culebra's waist to find his other hand, wanting to feel it the way he felt the one on his shoulder…and found it
already had something in it. Frowning, suddenly recalled as to where they were and why, Corinos lifted Culebra's hand and
then gasped. "Culebra…what is this?"
Culebra's mouth twisted in one of the melancholy smiles that had always torn at Corinos's heart. "The power of a lost god,
sealed away for all time - or so was the plan."
Corinos unconsciously tightened his hand on Culebra's. "What?"
Culebra never got the chance to reply, as the sound of curses struck them right before people tumbled out of a dark
passageway he had not seen until Culebra had come out of it. They looked rather the worse for wear; Culebra had
obviously fared better wherever they had gone.
Behind him, silent and still until that moment, Cortez and Fidel drew their swords and stepped forward, flanking Corinos and
Culebra.
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Earlier they'd taken care of the three posted at the door, the three scattered about the chamber. They'd been debating
whether or not to tie them up when he'd turned and saw Culebra.
His gaze landed on the man at the front of the trio. Everything about him spoke of leadership. Corinos grabbed Culebra and
shoved him back, out of harm's way. He gripped his sword and stepped forward. "You must be Jorge."
The man was as strange looking as Cortez had said. He could easily pass for Piedren if no one looked close, and no doubt
Jorge ensured they did not. His eyes, more than anything, gave him away - they were a deep violet, of an intensity and
richness Corinos had never seen.
In the light of the glowing stones above and around them, it was impossible to miss that Jorge had no shadow. Never had
Corinos heard of such a thing - not in snake, not in a man. "Who are you?" he asked. "I have never known a man to
possess violet eyes and lack a shadow."
On either side of Jorge, his companions started, one even crying out in surprise, as they realized Corinos's words were true.
It was Culebra who answered, when Jorge remained stubbornly silent. "He has no shadow because he is a child of Licht. All
of Licht's children are so marked; shadows are proof of light. The children of Licht are His shadows. How did you escape
Schatten?"
"I was running for my life," Jorge said, weariness in his voice. "It blocked me from going down…so I ran up into the Haunted
Mountains…what you called the Jagged Mountains…I slipped in the snow, always the snow, and fell into a canyon. When I
woke, I was in a strange place…not in Schatten…I thought I had somehow managed to escape."
Corinos frowned. "Schatten? You are from Schatten?" His brows went up as something else clicked into place. "Does that
mean Ruisenor is also from Schatten?"
"Ruisenor?" Jorge asked, drawing a sharp breath. The hope that flared in his eyes was painful enough Corinos could barely
keep from looking away.
"No-not a person. Ruisenor is…" Corinos trailed off as he realized Jorge wasn't listening, his eyes instead fastened beyond
Corinos.
His face had gone almost white. Corinos wondered if he would pass out, so quickly did Jorge's dark gold skin drain of color.
Corinos followed his gaze, and watched as Ruisenor slithered past him and toward Jorge.
"No!" Jorge suddenly cried, looking more terrified than Corinos had ever seen someone look. "A…a Sentinel…how…even
here…" Jorge abruptly scrambled back, steps clumsy, barely staying upright, startling his companions and sending them
scurrying away. His back hit the wall of the cavern hard enough Corinos could hear the crack of his head against stone.
"Mercy of the Light, what is a Sentinel doing here?" His fingers dug futilely into the rock behind him.
"A Sentinel?"
Ruisenor slithered across the floor, a sinuous shadow on the white tiles.
"Get away!" Jorge screamed at her, pressing against the wall as if he did not realize he could move elsewhere. "Mercy of
the Light, please!" Then he abruptly froze, as Ruisenor drew close, as if all the fight had abruptly been taken from him.
Corinos moved forward, unable to bear seeing anyone suffer so horribly. What was going on? No one should be so terrified.
He moved too late - one moment Ruisenor was only a few steps away, and Corinos swore all he did was blink and
suddenly her jaws were fastened to Jorge's upper arm. All he heard was a hiss, the sound ominous in the cavernous
temple.
What truly disturbed him, however, was the way Jorge did not scream. Did not move. He simply sat there, face drained of
color, eyes half-closed, head slowly drooping.
"Scales and teeth…" Cortez breathed from where she'd come up alongside Corinos's right.
Fidel appeared on his left. "I told you that snake was a nightmare." He lifted his sword as Ruisenor finally let go of Jorge,
tensing as the snake slithered toward them…then past. They turned as one to follow Ruisenor as she moved.
Corinos started to protest as she reared up and wrapped herself around Culebra, settling with her head on his shoulder so
that the prince could pet her.
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"It's all right," Culebra said softly, one hand reaching out to pet Ruisenor. His other still clutched the too-beautiful rose. "She
did it because he upset me, tried to hurt me…because in my eyes he has done things that are nearly unforgivable."
"Scales and teeth," Cortez said. "What is a Sentinel?"
Culebra shook his head. "I do not know…even now, to me Ruisenor is only a snake born of Schatten. She does not share
much of her thoughts with me." He moved forward, Ruisenor slithering off him and back to her shadowy corner, and knelt
beside Jorge. Carefully he reached out a hand, finding after a moment Jorge's injured arm, fingers staining red as he
touched the wounds left by Ruisenor's fangs. "I did not know she could poison; I thought she was the type to strangle her
food."
"She's a Sentinel," Jorge said with a sad laugh, not bothering to open his eyes, which had finally fallen completely shut.
"They do as they please."
"What are they?"
"Sentinels…" Jorge still did not open his eyes. "Sentinels are the shadow wyverns of Teufel. They guard his lands, killing all
intruders and other potential threats. They stalk the land for hapless prey…yours…she's only a baby."
Corinos drew a breath, but kept silent - barely - as Jorge continued to speak.
"It was an adolescent which drove me up the mountain, to fall into the canyon. The young ones, their poison works slow…"
He slowly opened his eyes, which were as drained of color as his face - pale lavender now, instead of the deep violet they
had been before. "It will take me hours to die. Normally…she would simply eat me…they like their food still living."
Culebra slowly trailed his fingers up to cup Jorge's cheek. "What is your real name, child of Schatten?"
"Jurgen. I thought I'd escaped."
"You did," Culebra said sadly. "You just chose what he wanted anyway. Teufel knew you would, or arranged it that way. It
will take a rare type of individual to defeat the Shadow of Licht."
Jorge grimaced. "No one can defeat him. No one can even reach him. Like I said - your Sentinel is but a baby." He gave a
half-nod toward Ruisenor. "Close to childhood, but still a baby. Probably only thirty years old, not more than forty. The Great
Sentinels…they are full grown, bodies as large as a small cottage, wing-spans three times that… They are at least 200
years old, the Great Sentinels. No one sees them up close and lives. Beyond them, in the center of the City, is the Holy
Sentinel. It's as old as the gods, some of the ancient texts say. To get to Teufel, you must get past the Thirteen Great
Sentinels and the Holy Sentinel. It's impossible." He closed his eyes again, slumping against the wall, face twisted in pain
as Ruisenor's poison slowly destroyed his body.
"Back away," Culebra said, turning around to address the rest of the room - including the group that had come with Jorge,
all of whom were now awake and being updated by the two who had been conscious to see all that had recently occurred.
"All of you. Get well away from me and do not look at me until I say!"
Corinos's eyes widened. "Culebra…"
"Get away," Corinos repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"As you wish," Corinos said, and immediately turned away, motioning for the others to follow him to the other side of the
room, as far from Culebra as they could get. "Do not look at him. Not even from the corner of your eye."
One stray glance was all it would take. To catch any glimpse of Culebra's eyes was fatal. "Culebra," he said softly, signaling
they were all ready.
Culebra nodded and reached up to unknot and slowly unwind the bandages wrapped around his head.
Corinos drew a sharp breath as he stared one moment longer to catch Culebra's profile free of the bandages. Always,
Culebra wore the wraps - and he only ever changed them when locked away alone in his room in complete darkness. Then
he forced himself to look away, to look elsewhere as Culebra did what he had always feared.
"Zhar Ptitka is the most merciful of the gods," Culebra said softly. "The god of rebirth sees all the past and future
possibilities, and from that he manages a sympathy the rest of us cannot always summon. Though the Firebird is staunchly
against meddling in the lives of our children, I sense he will make an exception for you, for your life has been manipulated
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unfairly since your conception - perhaps even well before that. In your next life, do not let despair lead you to such hateful
things."
As he finished speaking, Culebra slowly opened his eyes.
Jorge gasped, as if surprised, and stared wide-eyed back at Culebra.
Then he stilled.
"Corinos. Cortez. Fidel. Leave the room." Culebra closed his eyes and slowly stood. "Do it now."
Corinos started to protest, Culebra could sense it, but he heard a grunt instead and would have laughed, knowing from her
softly spoken words that Cortez was all but dragging Corinos away. He waited until he heard their steps fade away to
nothing, then waited several minutes more.
Then he crossed the room to where eight people waited in tense, unhappy silence. That they did not even attempt a protest
spoke well of them - they knew they'd done something wrong, finally. Perhaps there was hope yet.
He held the stone rose tightly in one hand, it was sticky with his drying blood. Holding it put him as close to his power as he
could get without surrendering to godhood entirely - he could still walk away, go back home, be nothing more than a cursed
prince. So long as the rose was not destroyed.
"Your wrongs are great," Culebra said levelly. "By all rights, I should open my eyes and be done with you. I think, though,
that would be too easy. The Azul Mountains are stained with the blood you spilled. More than two hundred have died by
your hands, for your zealotry. How many more have you killed? How many Lady Marcelas have suffered?"
"Traitor," one man muttered, the words barely audible, flushed with the faintest hints of guilt.
Culebra's mouth thinned into a grim line. "Even gods make great and terrible mistakes. If a god can earn forgiveness, then
so too can our children. So I am going to give you that chance. Forgiveness, however, is a hard road to travel."
Silence was the only reply, but Culebra could feel their fear, the misery and anxiety that was tormenting them, torturing
them with thoughts of what exactly earning forgiveness entailed.
Culebra gripped the rose more tightly than ever, stopping just short of enough force to snap the stem in two. Fresh blood
trickled from his fingers as they were pierced anew by the thorns. He held his free hand up, palm toward the assembled
group.
They cried out in pain and shock, but almost immediately fell silent again.
He could not see them, but he knew what he had done.
Inked into each of their necks was a collar - a thick band of scales, and in the front a black rose in full bloom. "I am the god
of death, and so have the ability to forestay it. This curse I lay upon you, who took lives that were not yours to take. From
this day forth you shall not die, nor age a single day, until you find each soul whose life you stole and instead save it.
Through however many reincarnations it takes, you will live until you manage to save the lives of those you killed. Only
when each murder is thus paid for will you be allowed to reclaim your own lives." He turned away to retrieve his bandages,
disliking vehemently the feel of cool air against his eyelids. "Now go. Leave my temple and do not return until you have
earned my forgiveness."
Culebra listened tensely as they quickly left, scurrying out the main doors and running up the stairs as quickly as their feet
and fear of the darkness would let them.
Leaving him alone.
Slowly Culebra sank to the floor, letting the rose fall to lie in his lap, freeing him of the overwhelming feel of the power that
was locked within it…leaving him feeling more like himself, though he doubted he would ever feel much like that again.
He hugged himself, willing his trembling to cease, as the Basilisk in him faded enough that he was frightened of his own
actions. What had he done?
All he wanted was to go home. Be with Corinos. He didn't want to kill people and cast curses.
Why, then, had he done it so easily?
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Culebra shook his head and forced himself to stand, fingers curling back around the rose, and retrieve the wrappings for his
eyes.
Jorge's body was already cooling, and some part of him could feel the soul already moving on, to Zhar Ptitka's embrace, to
wait until it was ready to be reborn.
He wanted nothing more than to throw away the wretched rose that was making him aware of all this. Setting it down, he
picked up the discarded bandages and slowly set to smoothing them out, laying them flat, ensuring that when he began to
wind them the result would not be a tangled, uneven mess.
His hand felt heavy, and somehow he'd completely forgotten that it was covered in blood. It was sticky, tacky. Culebra
curled the hand into a fist and pressed it to his forehead, fighting for the composure he'd had only seconds before.
Why couldn't he just be a prince? He'd given up his godhood…he didn't want to remember why, just thinking of it made him
sick. What was it he'd said only moments ago?
Even gods make great and terrible mistakes.
Licht. Himself…and one other…Culebra shuddered, forcing the knowledge away. He didn't want to know.
He started to reach again for his bandages, then once again remembered his hand, covered in blood. Culebra froze, no
longer certain what he should be doing. With his clean hand, he reached out to grasp the ends of the long wrap, but as
things stood he could not cover his eyes alone.
That was always the problem, wasn't it? He could not bear to go back to doing everything alone. No matter who surrounded
him, his priests, his brothers scattered over the world…always he was down here in his temple alone.
No one wanted to be close to death; even his most devout worshippers, his most adoring children, had kept a distance. He
had friends now…but that would change. Even Corinos…Culebra swallowed, finding it hard to breath, as he thought of the
way Corinos would eventually want nothing to do with him.
Hadn't that been what he'd always feared? That the one person he loved more than life, wanted more than even a chance
to see, would eventually realize that loving a god of death was not worth it?
Precious few had been the lovers he'd taken, always hopeful he would find someone amongst the mortals as Tsunami
had…someone adoring and loyal as Zhar Ptitka had found…a bond that nothing could break, such as the Faerie Queen
shared with her Guardians…a devotion that stopped at nothing, as Teufel had once loved Licht….
No one could love death, not for long. Nor did anyone want to help. Culebra let go of his wrappings, let the rose roll to the
floor as he buried his head in his hands.
Only one lover had he thought would last, and that one had turned into a betrayal…had turned into murder…had turned into
suicide…
Culebra gripped his head tightly, willing away memories he had not wanted ever to resurface.
He did not want to be the Basilisk!
So caught up in his turmoil was he, Culebra did not realize the others had returned until a hand fell heavily upon his
shoulder. He jumped, then buried his face in his hands. "Go away," he said hoarsely. "I still need to cover my eyes…I don't
want…"
Corinos ignored him, as he always did, and forced Culebra to his feet. "Come, Highness. You need to get cleaned up,
you've blood all over you…and I will wrap your eyes." Rough, calloused hands gently cupped his face, and Culebra smelled
coffee, a trace of sweet cigar, before Corinos's mouth covered his.
How had he gone so long without kissing this man? Corinos tasted both bitter and sweet, a mingling of coffee, cigar, a hint
of sugar. He was warm, and his arms made Culebra feel as though his worries were far away. He slid his hands up
Corinos's chest, feeling firm muscle beneath the rough fabric of his shirt, then slid his arms around Corinos's neck, holding
him close, wanting it to never end. This was all he wanted. He deepened the kiss, desperate to drive away all the doubts
that wanted to take hold and ruin his brief happiness.
"Culebra," Corinos said when they finally broke apart, his dark sugar voice rough, unsteady. "We should get you cleaned
up."
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Culebra nodded, willing to go along with whatever kept his black thoughts at bay for a little longer. They would rest. In the
morning…perhaps they could simply close the temple and leave…
"So this is the infamous Stone Rose?" Cortez asked, and Culebra whipped around as he heard her pick it up. "It truly is as
beautiful as legend says."
"Put it down!" Culebra bellowed. "Do not touch that cursed thing!"
Cortez snorted. "I won't hurt it, Highness."
"I hope not," Culebra said. "You would not want the burdens that come with its destruction. Those that I already endure are
hard enough. Put it down, Cortez."
Fingers stroked gently through his hair, and Culebra allowed Corinos to tug him close again. "Culebra," Corinos said softly.
"Do not let it unsettle you so."
Culebra buried his face against Corinos's chest, desperate to drive away memories that refused to stay buried. "I do not
want to go back to that. I am just a mortal now; why will no one leave me in peace?"
Hands soothed up and down his arm, but the normally warming gesture failed to comfort.
Cortez snorted. "You brood too much, Highness. You also need to learn to relax. No one is making you do anything.
Though I will say it's rather strange you're so against this…I mean it's one thing for us to panic at the thought…but you're
already mostly a god. Refusing to be one is sort of like me trying to say I'm not a woman or something - Fidel keep your
mouth shut or you'll be sleeping alone for a very long time. Now is not the time for your dumb jokes."
"Yes, my darling."
"I told you to keep your mouth shut."
Culebra tried to laugh at their banter, but he could not even dredge up a smile. "Do you want to know why I no longer want
to be a god? I'll tell you. I will tell you what not even the other gods know. How I killed myself. After I killed Licht. After he
betrayed me - with the help of another god."
Chapter Seventeen
Culebra moved toward Cortez and reached out, hand landing on her shoulder, and he trailed down her arm until his fingers
landed upon the rose in her hand. Taking it, he immediately retreated.
Fresh blood poured from new wounds as he held the stone rose tight, dripping onto the floor, leaving lurid red marks on the
white tiles.
"Do you know why I, of all my brothers, was chosen to reign over death?" Culebra asked, continuing before anyone could
try to formulate an answer. "The Storm Dragons, closest to chaos and greatest in power, are too playful. To them, life is the
grandest and greatest of games. They will never be capable of ending that game."
"The Firebird is too kind, too forgiving. He sees the lives that came before, the possibilities of the future, and so his
perspective is quite different. Never could he take a life, unless there was absolutely no other recourse."
"The Faerie Queen, by contrast, is too vindictive. She is loving, kind, but also too harsh at times, as protective parents can
often be. The responsibility of death and destruction would fare poorly in her hands."
"Licht…Licht felt too deeply, cared too much. Never should Licht be made to endure the powers that have fallen into my
care. He never should have…" Culebra shook his head and let out a long, slow sigh. "I…was always the calmest of my
brothers. Emotion tempered by control. I can bear the burden of controlling such a demanding element of the world we
created."
"I say all this only so that you might better understand what comes next." Culebra tilted his head up, as if seeing something
that no one else could. "I say I was the most suited of my brothers to take over the responsibilities of death and
destruction…but doing so isolated me. My children loved me, and worshipped me, but there was always fear coloring their
respect no matter what I did. How can you love death, after all? Even my brothers, love me as they did, seldom came to
visit. Though of course none of us likes to leave our lands for long, still…I grew lonely. The Storms had each other, so too
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the Queen and Guardians. Licht had Teufel, and Zhar Ptitka was always so close to his children."
Culebra lifted the stone rose to his face, ducking his head as if to smell the petals, touching the flower gently to his lips.
"Every time I thought I'd found someone amongst the mortals who might stay and drive out the loneliness…they crumbled
and left. No one can take being so close to someone as grim as I…"
He shook his head to clear it, and tried to more clearly focus his thoughts. "One night, when I was particularly despondent,
hiding away in the Temple of Oblivar, Licht came to see me. He seemed as troubled as I, though for different reasons, and
in each other we found solace and companionship."
"That one night led to several others, Licht always seeking me out as he pleased, I more than content to stay secluded in
my land and wait for him. We were brothers, and for those few months lovers - though his heart was always with Teufel and
Schatten, and mine was always with Piedre."
"Whatever was bothering him, it only got worse as the months passed. Eventually he broke down and told me he regretted
the choice we made so long ago. That letting chaos dominate, rather than order, was a mistake. I disagreed. We argued.
Eventually, frustrated, Licht left."
"He came back several days later, and was more agitated than ever. Nearly wild in his anger, pain. I could not get him to
explain what had upset him to the point of madness. Instead, he only demanded I use my powers to fix everything, to set all
to rights…to let everything start over, and be the way it should have been all along. I told him no, and it escalated into an
argument…which eventually devolved into violence. When it was clear he was losing, Licht vanished."
Culebra lowered the rose, curling his arms around himself - but backing away when Corinos tried to draw close and offer
him comfort. "Let me be. I must finish. I did not see Licht for days, after our fight. Nor did I tell any of my brothers, as I
should have…they were already aware, of course, that Licht was acting strangely. He had sealed himself off, put up wards
to keep everyone out of Schatten. All nine of us had promised, long ago, never to interfere in one another's countries…
though always we were willing to help. That Licht had sealed off Schatten entirely was strange, but Licht was always
mercurial at best. He felt too deeply, always, and that led often to his acting strangely. So I took all that had passed
between us as part of one of his strange moods, and kept my silence."
"When I finally saw Licht again, he was contrite. He asked my forgiveness for his earlier behavior." Culebra shook his head
slowly back and forth again. "He'd even brought a favorite wine of mine - one created in Verde but made with Piedren
spices - by way of apology. We drank."
He fell silent, and stayed that way so long it almost seemed as though he had no intention of continuing his story. When he
finally resumed speaking, his voice was faint, pained. "The wine was poisoned. So subtly, so skillfully, that I did not realize
until too late that there was something wrong with it. The poison slowly spread through my system, and then struck hard
and fast. It…completely ruined me…I could barely control my powers, barely reign them in. Never mind use them properly.
It terrified me. There is very little which can frighten a god, even less that can terrify…" Culebra bit his lip, weighing his next
words. "The poison ruined my ability to control my own powers, to even keep them. Such a poison…" He shook his head. "It
left me prey to outside manipulation. Licht poisoned me to obtain my powers."
"Barely was I able to prevent such a thing happening. It took me far too long even to realize what was happening. When I
did…" Culebra hugged himself tighter, voice choking briefly before he regained control of it. "I could not allow him to get
away with it. I could not let it happen."
His mouth twisted with bitter sadness. "Don't you see? Always I stand alone." He ignored the rumblings of confusion as he
abruptly shifted subjects, not yet willing to complete the story. "No one who stands with me does it for very long. Even if
they want to, at first, and try to keep wanting." He nearly gave in to the offer of comfort as he heard Corinos move toward
him again. Vehemently he shook his head, stepping away. "It was because of my loneliness that Licht first sought me out.
He knew it wore on me, knew I detested being alone though I tried not to burden my brothers and children with it. He used it
against me, tried to coax me into his plan - and when that did not work, he found a way to poison me and nearly take
them."
"I was weak. Foolish. I will never allow it to happen again. My powers are best left as they have been for these past
thousand years - sealed away in a lost temple and forgotten. Even I, who was most suited in all of creation, was not strong
enough."
Cortez snorted. "That's stupid. Most importantly, you're hurting Corinos's feelings. He'd stay with you. Didn't he come all this
way for you? I doubt he's ever minded your familiarity with death."
Culebra wasn't too certain - they had yet to completely discuss his revealing to his bodyguard that he could sense when
someone was going to shortly die. How would Corinos, so dedicated to protecting, keeping alive, endure a lover who could
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sense the deaths of a person the very moment they were conceived? That he could, when necessary, see how and when
every living thing would die? His realm was death. After so many years, it was always more than mortals could take.
"Corinos loves me. He is my heart and soul. However no power in existence guarantees his feelings will not change after a
few hundred years of being chained to a god of death. I have learned the hard way how painfully true that is."
For reply, hands fell heavily on his shoulders, dragged him forward, then the arms slid to tighten around him as a mouth
crashed down upon his. Corinos kissed him hard, brutally, with so much force Culebra felt his lip split, the taste of copper
mingling with the lingering taste of coffee and sweet smoke in Corinos's mouth.
"How many times, Culebra?" Corinos tore his mouth away and began to shake him hard. "How many times will you doubt
me? Hurt me? How much longer must I wait until you finally believe me? I will never stop loving you. I came this far for you.
I once beat up my own brother to stake my claim on you. I defied your brother to come here, even knowing that for doing so
I will face far worse than a beheading."
Culebra frowned. "I've said goodbye to too many lovers in the past. I do not want to see you fall into misery the way they
did."
"Being your lover is not the same as being in love with you, Culebra." Rough fingers tenderly stroked his cheek.
"You don't understand," Culebra said, clutching tightly to the rose as he shoved Corinos back. "It's not-it's me-I-"
"Oh, shut up," Cortez cut in. "Really. Be a good little brother and do as I tell you."
Culebra whipped his head around toward her voice, frowning in confusion. "What? Little brother?"
Cortez stepped closer as she spoke, voice firm despite the light, teasing tone. "Exactly. I mean, I guess you're really the
older one. Right now, though, I'm older. Plus I look older - I mean I have twenty years or so on you, right? So I get to be the
big sister."
Culebra's frown deepened. "What in the world are you talking about?"
Laughing, Cortez drew close enough he could smell the smoke that clung to her, sweat and grass. "I know what your
problem is, and it's not that you don't believe Corinos loves you. That is perfectly obvious. Your problem, Culebra, was my
mother's problem. You do not share your burdens with anyone. You do not let anyone else bear them for a while, or help
you carry them. I couldn't help her, though I wanted to. Though I tried."
"Cortez…" Culebra backed away nervously, not liking the tone of her voice - it was the sort of tone that drove someone to
think that the best way to kidnap a prince was to sit around waiting in a room full of deadly snakes. "What are you doing?"
"Helping you," Cortez said, then suddenly she was there, right in front of him, and grabbed the hand that held the rose,
tangling their fingers together - and crushing the rose between their palms.
The power washed over him, a dead silence followed by a rushing of noise, drowning out everything, making the darkness
blindingly white before it went black again. Over the din, he just barely heard Cortez laugh ruefully and say, "Assuming this
works the way I thought it would."
"Cortez!" Culebra shouted in outrage, right before he blacked out.
When he woke, Culebra felt different.
Everything was different. Changed.
"I'm going to kill you Cortez," he said, not bothering to stir from where he lay - against Corinos, he realized.
A voice laughed, and Culebra froze at the way he sensed it as much as felt it. He could feel Cortez's amusement. As though
it were his own. "What have you done, you reckless fool?"
"Take a look and see," Cortez said.
"Not funny," Culebra snapped.
He could sense, almost see, the way she rolled her eye.
Eye. Singular. How…there was no way….
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Slowly, doubting it could be true but knowing it was, Culebra opened his left eye. He drew a sharp breath.
In front of him was the…most interesting looking individual he'd ever seen. She had scars all across her face, her throat,
and somehow he knew exactly where on her body the dozens of others were.
Not that he wanted that sort of knowledge. Culebra could feel his cheeks heat and shook his head furiously back and forth.
"You-you-you-"
"Have done what you always wanted, little brother," Cortez said with a taunting grin. Her right eye was covered by some of
his bandages. Her left was a dark, smoke gray. "Two, rather than one. Now that the burden is shared, it will not be so
great."
"Scales and teeth!" Culebra howled, and tried to lunge at her, furious when strong arms held him back. "I did not want this!
We could have-"
"Left our country incomplete? Without its god? You know we could never have done such a thing. This world will die without
its creators. We never could have left this temple and continued as mortals."
We. She kept saying we. Culebra curled back up into the arms that would not release their hold. It was true; every fiber of
him knew it. He was no longer just Culebra, though he would always keep that name. He would always, to some degree, be
Culebra. Except now he was not the Basilisk. He was a Basilisk. "Cortez…"
"Say 'thank you, big sister.' Though, this is going to take some getting used to, that's for certain."
A voice snorted, and Culebra looked up to see a man sitting nearby, taking long pulls on a cigarette. He was handsome,
sort of…book-ish looking except for the sword and leather he wore so casually. "That is Cortez," Fidel said dryly. "If you
come to a cliff and your options are climb down, find another way, or jump - she does not stop to consider the options like a
normal person, no. She comes to the cliff and says 'let's jump.'" He glared at her, but the fondness in his eyes was
impossible to miss. "I'm not so certain you're dignified enough to be a god of death."
Cortez smiled at him, all teeth. "Keep it up, Fidel, and you will be punished. Seeing as I'm a god now, I can administer
divine punishment."
"What, precisely, does that mean?"
"It means I can say things like 'no sex for a thousand years' and mean it."
Fidel dropped his cigarette, then glared at her and retrieved it. "You are not funny."
Cortez laughed. "I am very funny."
Culebra smiled briefly, unable to look away. He could see. See. After so many years…even as the Basilisk, he had never
had sight. His ability to see at all had been lost to accommodate the terrible power to destroy.
The arms wrapped so firmly around him tightened, and Culebra drew a sharp breath, unable to believe how fast his heart
suddenly started to beat. He stared at his own hands, as they came up to touch the dark skin of Corinos's arms. So stark a
difference against his own skin, still so bone white.
He frowned at Cortez. "Why don't you look like a ghost?"
"Because, little brother," Cortez turned from her continuing banter with Fidel, "I would look atrocious with your pale skin. You
look quite pretty." She smirked. "I'm sure your lover agrees."
Bracing himself, more nervous than he thought a newly restored god should be, Culebra finally turned and looked up.
"Corinos…" His bodyguard was the worse for wear - days of growth on his face, scratches from traveling through the forest,
eyes lined with exhaustion, hair very nearly a lost cause…but his eyes blazed with warmth, affection, and Corinos thought
he could endure the most terrible agonies for this chance to finally put a face to the man he loved. As handsome and
enthralling as the dark sugar voice that had immediately captured him so many years ago. Culebra twisted so he could slide
free and face him properly, letting his fingers explore as they wished, gaze following the lines he knew so well by touch.
Finally he looked up again, hands sliding up Corinos's arms. Those eyes, so dark, still burned with every emotion Culebra
felt. "I do love you, Corinos."
Corinos dragged him close and kissed him hard, possessively, arms wrapping around him like bands. Culebra opened to it,
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sinking his hands into the messy but still so soft hair, pressing as close as their clothing would allow, wanting never to stop
kissing this man he had forced himself to stay away from for too long. "Corinos."
"So should we leave?" Fidel asked. "Cause I'm not sure I actually want to watch them, if they're going to get any more
intense."
Cortez snickered, and Culebra distantly head Fidel yelp as Cortez yanked him close. "We could always have a contest,"
Cortez said. "See which couple can kiss better."
"I don't think I like you as a god," Fidel complained. "You were already too cocky for your health and mine."
Still snickering, Cortez leaned in and kissed him, almost immediately putting to rest any of Fidel's lingering protests.
Corinos chuckled softly and renewed the fervor of his own kisses. Culebra didn't even consider protesting.
All around them, through the Azul and beyond, the ground began to tremble ever so faintly, spreading a message to the
world that the Basilisk was no longer lost.
"So finish your story," Fidel said when Cortez and Corinos finally relented.
Culebra frowned, his hand unconsciously reaching out - and meeting Cortez's, their fingers tangling, bringing their thoughts
and feelings together, making them as one. "I did not finish it…because there are others who have to know. They died
before the truth could be conveyed to them, for after the events of that night, the downfall happened very quickly."
"Others?" Fidel asked.
"Yes," Cortez said with a smile. "I do believe I have brothers to meet."
Culebra heaved a sigh and reluctantly stood up, the others following suit. His hand was still clasped with Cortez's, so rough
where his own was smooth.
All around the chamber a great quantity of snakes had gathered, and Culebra was amazed at how many of them had come
from the sanctuary he had not seen in what seemed ages now. Off in a shadowy corner was Ruisenor, coiled up and fast
asleep.
Jorge's body was gone. He had seen to that. He hoped, in his next life, the former child of Schatten was happy.
"Do you want to do the honors?" Culebra asked.
Cortez rolled her eyes. "Oh, I don't think we need to extend a formal invitation."
All around them everything seemed to rumble and shake - but not from the ground. It seemed as though the shaking came
from the sky.
"Still showing off, I see…" Culebra said
As the ground-shaking thunder reached a crescendo and abruptly died, three men appeared suddenly in the room.
One looked like a sailor taken suddenly from his ship, except for the whiteness of his skin - nearly a match for Culebra's.
The clothes were dark, but the sash that cinched his tunic shut was a brilliant blue cut with diagonal bands of white. Beside
him was a tall man who looked as though he were snatched straight from a tale about exotic pirates.
Culebra drew a sharp breath as his eye landed on the last man - slighter, shorter than the other two, and utterly
breathtaking. He'd never seen him before, but something in him knew. "Y-you're Nankyokukai. Nankyo. They said you were
dead."
"Culebra," Nankyo said, real pleasure in his voice as he crossed the room to embrace his old friend. "I have missed you."
Behind them, the pale-skinned Storm Dragon glowered.
The third one chuckled. "Now, Kin, do not be jealous."
"I am not jealous," Kin hissed.
Nankyo laughed and let go of Culebra, going back to stand with his brothers. "Basilisk…" his mischievous look shifted to
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Cortez. "Or should I say, Basilisks. We are happy to have you back. We feared…"
"That we would not be coming back?" Cortez asked, but got no further as the fire pit in the center of the room suddenly
flared to life, the flames flicking high - then dying abruptly down, leaving only a short, slender man to step calmly out of the
flames.
He was young-looking, but the depth to eyes that shifted like flickering flames spoke of his true age. He smiled around the
room. "Did I arrive suitably?" He jerked his head toward the dragons. "How badly did they show off? Have I missed the fun?
Basilisk." He paused. "Oh. It's plural now. I rather like it." He strode straight to Cortez and bowed low. "Sister. A pleasure to
meet you."
"Brother Firebird. The pleasure is mine."
"He's awfully cheerful," Raiden said with a snort of laughter. "Did you just finish hearing the Priest of Ashes'…prayers?
Hmm, Raz?"
Raz threw his head back and laughed. "At least I hear prayers and not curses, Raiden."
Culebra sighed and leaned back against Corinos, content to wait until his brothers had finished their bantering.
They all turned as he sighed, however, the levity falling off. "So what happened?" Raz asked. "We have waited, worrying
that you…"
"We did not," Cortez said. "At least, we did not want to come back as one. But as to why…" She fell silent, and Culebra
could see that it was all still a bit overwhelming for her.
He stepped forward and picked up the story, explaining everything that he had already said to Corinos and the others. "I
could not let Licht do it…" he closed his eye, feeling the power that throbbed in his right eye. "When he poisoned me, and I
realized what he intended, I killed him. I stopped just short of destroying him, though I know not where the remaining piece
is…but by then it was too late. I could feel the world shaking apart all around me, but so saturated with the poison, there
was only one way to stop it."
"So you killed yourself, and sealed the power away…I can understand…." Raiden said softly. "Arashi and Typhoon
destroyed themselves completely to break me free of the Seal. We all have been forced to do terrible things, Basilisk.
Culebra. If you fear that we would have hated you…it is painfully obvious we all hold part of the blame."
"Yes," Nankyo said, frowning deeply in thought. "However, at present I am more concerned about a poison that could so
powerfully affect a god. Such a thing…"
"Could only be created by another god," Raz finished grimly.
Kin's expression was black as he spoke. "None of us did it. We know nothing of such things. It is not our realm, not our
style. In all of the world, I can think of only one person who understands such things enough to create such a poison."
"Yes," Culebra said grimly. "I realized the same before I died. It would not be the Unicorn, for poison is anathema to the
purity he represents."
"Nor the Pegasus," Cortez said. "She is too direct."
Raiden finished, the devastation and anger in his voice perfectly expressing how all of them felt. "The Faerie Queen. Why
would the Faerie Queen help Licht poison the Basilisk?"
"Perhaps, when - if - Verde manages to break free of its tragic cycle, we will know," Culebra said. "That tragedy and its
unknown reasons will explain a great deal, I sense. We will simply have to wait and see…" For Verde had to save itself. The
gods had made a pact never to interfere without explicit invitation…and if the gods were not there, they could not ask for
help.
"We are glad to have you back," Raz said again. "Both of you. Come visit, sometime. I will introduce you to my priest."
"His adoring pet," Raiden said, and laughed as Raz glared at him. "Enough. I return to my own treasure." The dragons
vanished as one, thunder rumbling loudly and gradually fading into the distance.
"Come visit," Raz repeated, embracing Culebra and Cortez in turn. "I will come visit you, as well. Dym would like your
temple." He winked, then with nothing more than a wave, vanished.
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"So…what happens now?" Cortez asked.
Culebra shrugged. "We wait."
"Then, dear little brother, I think I shall take my Fidel and show him the Temple of Oblivar. I am still quite fond of it…"
"Take it," Culebra said with a laugh. "This one was always my favorite." He crossed the room and hugged Cortez tight.
"Thank you…big sister."
"You are welcome." Cortez kissed his cheek, then let him go and latched onto Fidel. They vanished.
Corinos's arms wrapped around him from behind. "So we wait?" He said in Culebra's ear. "What do we do while we wait?"
"I'll show you."
Epilogue
Culebra turned as he heard movement in the snow, smiling faintly as Ruisenor came slithering over it towards him - the cold
seemed not to bother her, and Culebra wondered if Sentinels felt such things.
He had not known Teufel had created such monsters. Jorge's stark fear, after all that the man had done…
Culebra reached out to stroke glistening black scales as Ruisenor wrapped her thick, heavy body around him. The weight of
her should have been too much to bear, but even as a mortal he had never been troubled by it. "Ah, my beauty…how did
you escape when even Jorge could not, in the end, let go of the threads of Order Teufel tied to him?"
Ruisenor wrapped loosely around his throat, brushing his face with her own before settling her head on his shoulders. In the
cold sunlight and glittering snow, against the whiteness of the Basilisk, she was a livid black mark.
Images flickered through his head, of the way she had fled, only a few weeks after being born, traveling and traveling, high
into the mountains, deep underground, until she came to a land of heat.
Pozhar, of course.
From there, he sensed, she had somehow found her way onto a ship.
It wasn't until she reached Piedre, he sensed, that she had begun to grow to her massive proportions. She was growing still
- nearly eighteen feet long now.
A mere baby…
Culebra stroked her scales, let her absorb his warmth.
Ruisenor did not communicate much, she never had, but when she did her thoughts carried weight. She adored him. She
cared for Corinos. She had not wanted to be as her others were - hunting things that should not be hunted, killing what did
not need to die.
Under the cover of the Shadow of the Lost Licht.
Culebra sighed softly, not liking the grim turn of his thoughts when the snow was still freshly fallen, the sun making it almost
painfully bright.
In the back of his mind he could sense Cortez rolling her eye, giving a sigh of her own, and telling him to knock it off.
Culebra could not help a faint smile, and obediently tried to let his thoughts go.
Certainly he had better things to think about.
Problems might still abound in Schatten and Verde, but three of the five countries were on their way to healing. Even now
he could feel the world slowly settling back into its proper rhythms, falling out of the danger that would have begun to wither
it had it gone much longer without the gods that created and kept it.
He was no longer alone, and his children would be safer and happier for his presence, even if they did not entirely realize it.
He wondered how Pruebas faired…someday he would have to see his brother…but not right now.
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Right now he wanted to enjoy himself. Surely he had earned that much.
The steady, ever-amused presence of his sister chuckled in the back of his mind. Of course you have, little brother.
"Go play with Fidel," Culebra muttered. He turned away from the edge of the cliff, fingers trailing along Ruisenor's scales as
the snake slithered from him and back down the cliff. Culebra followed her a ways, but when the great snake continued on
into the forest, he turned toward the small, hidden entrance that led from the top of the waterfall down into his temple.
Myriad entrances to it were scattered across the central part of the Azul. When he had determined to make the temple his
tomb, he had sealed off all but the one behind the waterfall.
Bit by bit he was unsealing the others, opening his temple up. Eventually, someday, people would come.
For now, it was just him and Corinos, and occasionally his sister and Fidel - though they preferred the smaller, simpler
Temple Oblivar.
The cold vanished as he entered the tunnels of his caves, constantly warmed by Zhar Ptitka's fires. He weaved his way
through the tunnels, at last coming to the one he sought, wondering how long it would take Corinos to find him.
Not long. Corinos always somehow knew where to find him, even when Culebra made his way to chambers Corinos had not
yet seen.
This chamber…this chamber Corinos would like. Culebra smiled and began to strip, leaving his clothes folded neatly by the
door. He shivered slightly, the air a bit cool on his skin, and padded across the bare stone floor and slipped into the
steaming water of the hot spring.
There were several pools, from these in the very back to a few more that actually were outside, which would be tempting,
but more pleasant when the stars were out. Sighing softly, Culebra sank down until the water came up to his neck, leaning
back against warm stone, just turned away from the entrance. Sighing again, loving the feel of the hot water, the contrast of
it with the cooler air, Culebra closed his eye and waited.
Several minutes later he heard the familiar tread of his lover - his lover, the thought was still dizzying. So many years, so
many tries, his memories said, and no one had ever been like Corinos.
The boots stopped, and he heard the rough, choking sound that said he taken Corinos quite neatly by surprise. So calm
and collected, his bodyguard, most of the time. So very easy for Culebra to make him anything but.
"I did not know these were here," Corinos said.
Culebra laughed and finally opened his eye. The dark patch around his other was damp from the steam, clinging to his pale
skin. "I have been waiting to surprise you with them," he replied, then lost any interest in talking, more than happy to watch
as Corinos stripped, baring a well-formed body, skin like dark caramel, as fine to his eye as it had always been to his
fingers.
Humming his pleasure, Culebra splashed across the pool and wrapped himself around Corinos as he slid into the water,
mouth opening for the deep kiss Corinos immediately gave, loving the way that as hot as the water was - Corinos was
hotter. He held tight as Corinos dragged him to where they could sit, loving the feel of skin and skin, the contrast between
them. He sank his hands into the too-soft hair he loved, silently demanding more kisses that Corinos eagerly gave. He
moaned and tilted his head back as knowing teeth began to nip and scrape, clever fingers began to search and play. "How
did I keep away from you for so long, Corinos?"
"You were very blind," Corinos said, amusement tingeing his voice as he paused in explorations to brush a tender kiss
across Culebra's mouth. "In more ways than one."
Culebra smiled and cupped his face, dragging him back in for a proper kiss. "Not anymore."
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