Page 12 of Embrace the Serpent
The sky seemed so small. I gasped.I could die here without anyone realizing. I was—invisible—
And then, an inch of fresh air. The pressure lessened. A puff on my ear. “There you are. Easy, now.”
I shivered. Rane loomed over me, bracketing me with his arms. He seemed taller, larger—
His eyes were soft with pity.
I backed away into another body.
“Wait,” he said.
My mother’s ring was on. “How did you find me?”
He gave a helpless smile. “I looked.”
“That’s not—”
“Have you had a chance to give my regards to your boss?”
I didn’t want to work for him. He saw too much. “He—he can’t do it.”
His brows knitted together. “But he doesn’t even know what it is.”
“He—can’t—”
“You don’t understand—”
A gap opened between two women. I dove for it, and the crowd carried me forward. I glanced back once. Rane reached for me; his mouth opened, but no sound came out. It was drowned by the shrieking, the screaming, a wall of sound.
His fingertips brushed my elbow.
I pushed forward. At once the crowd parted, and I was pushing on air.
Momentum carried me forward, and my hands and elbows hit gravel. I scrambled onto my knees, my ears ringing, my heartbeat thudding in time with the drums—
Hooves glinting like knives. A horse so pale it was almost blue, rearing up. A silver hand gripping the reins—silver skin, iridescent. Snakeskin. A man—a beast—long silver hair, unbound, glinting—my mother’s voice, whispering,Theyonly cut it when defeated—
A headdress like a cobra’s hood. The Serpent King. His eyes were like molten metal—overheated, aglow, piercing—burning—
My body was wrenched up to my knees. Rane bowed before the king. His hand gripped my neck and forced my head down.
“Forgive her, my king,” he said. “She cannot be blamed, for you have this effect on women.”
Rane dragged me back into the crowd, then wheeled on me. “Are you, perhaps, an idiot?”
Eyes were on me. Dozens of them. The entire crowd. My hands shook, and I squeezed my mother’s ring.
A warm weight settled on my shoulders, and a hood was drawn up over my head. All those eyes could no longer find me. A comforting scent enveloped me, softly aquatic, like a crisp lake surrounded by sandalwood and persimmon trees.
“Never mind,” came Rane’s voice. “You won’t be the last to throw yourself at the Serpent King, but at least today, you were the first. Look, are you all right?”
To be invisible—you can’t show what you feel.
“Of course,” I said. “I’m perfectly fine.”
A pause. “That’s going a bit far, isn’t it?”
“Thank you for your help. Please, I won’t keep you from the festivities.”