Dreamsnake

“I’m healthy, if you’re worried,” Jean said with some asperity. “And my control is excellent.”

“I beg your pardon,” Arevin said. “I did not understand you at all. I’m honored by your invitation and I did not doubt your health or your control. Nor would you need to doubt me. But if I will not offend you I must say no.”

“Never mind,” Jean said. “It was just a thought.”

Arevin could tell she was hurt. Having so abruptly and unwittingly turned down Thad and Larril, Arevin felt he owed Jean, at least, some explanation. He was not sure how to explain his feelings, for he was not sure he understood them himself.

“I find you very attractive,” Arevin said. “I would not have you misunderstand me. Sharing with you would not be fair. My attention would be… elsewhere.”

Jean looked at him through the heat waves of the fire. “I can wake Kev up if you like.”

Arevin shook his head. “Thank you. But I meant my attention would be elsewhere than this camp.”

“Oh,” she said with sudden comprehension. “I see now. I don’t blame you. I hope you find her soon.”

“I hope I have not offended you.”

“It’s okay,” Jean said, a little wistfully. “I don’t suppose it’d make any difference if I told you I’m not looking for anything permanent? Or even anything beyond tonight?”

“No,” Arevin said. “I’m sorry. It’s still the same.”

“Okay.” She picked up her blanket and moved to the edge of the firelight. “Sleep well.”

Later, lying in his bedroll, the blankets not quite keeping off the chill, Arevin reflected on how pleasant and warm it would be to be lying next to another person. He had casually coupled with people in his and neighboring clans all his life, but until he met Snake he had found no one he thought he might be able to partner with. Since meeting her he had felt no desire for anyone else; what was even stranger, he had not noticed that he was not attracted to anyone else. He lay on the hard ground, thinking about all that, and trying to remind himself that he had no evidence but one brief touch, and a few ambiguous words, that Snake felt any more than casually attracted to him. Yet he could hope.

For a long time Snake did not move; in fact, she did not think she could move. She kept expecting dawn to come, but night remained. Perhaps North’s people had covered the crevasse to keep it in the dark, but Snake knew that was ridiculous, if only because North would want to be able to see her and laugh at her.

As she was considering darkness, light glimmered above her. She looked up, but everything was blurs and shadows and strange noises that grew louder. Ropes and wood scraped against the crevasse wall and Snake wondered what other poor cripple had found North’s refuge, and then, as a platform sank smoothly toward her, lowered on pulleys, she saw North himself descending. She could not hold Melissa tighter, or hide her from him, or even stand up and fight for her. North’s lights illuminated the crevasse and Snake was dazzled.

He stepped from his platform as the pulley ropes drooped down to its corners. Two of his followers flanked him, carrying lanterns. Two sets of shadows flowed and rippled on the walls.

When North came close enough, the light enveloped both of them and Snake could see his face. He smiled at her.

“My dreamsnakes like you,” he said, nodding toward her feet where the serpents coiled around her legs, halfway to her knees. “But you mustn’t be so selfish about them.”

“Melissa doesn’t want them,” Snake said.

“I must say,” he said, “I hardly expected you to be so lucid.”

“I’m a healer.”

North frowned a little, hesitating. “Ah. I see. Yes, I should have thought of that. You would have to be resistant, would you not.” He nodded to his people and they put down their lanterns and came toward Snake. The light illuminated North’s face from below, shadowing his paper-white skin with strange black shapes. Snake shrank away from his people, but the rock was at her back; she had nowhere to go. The followers walked gently among the jagged stones and the dreamsnakes. Unlike Snake they were heavily shod. One reached out to take Melissa from her. Snake felt the serpents uncoiling from her ankles, and heard them slide across the rock.

“Stay away!” Snake cried, but an emaciated hand tried to ease Melissa from her arms. Snake lunged down and bit. It was the only thing she could think of to do. She felt the cold flesh yield between her teeth until she met bone; she tasted the warm blood. She wished she had sharper teeth, sharp teeth with channels for poison. As it was, all she could do was hope the wound became infected.