Page 66

We snakes had magic in our blood. Powerful magic. He pauses to proudly remind me: Sundau was the first island created, you know. All your shamans have forgotten this. For centuries, the snakes of Sundau—my kin—were considered sacred beings.

“Something you’ve told me only a hundred and one times,” I say wryly. I pretend to yawn. “That’s why the serpent sovereign is always chosen from your line.”

Ukar harrumphs. There’s more to it than that. My kin are oldest of all the snakes of Tambu. We are descended from Hanum’anya’s Great Betrayal.

I tilt my head, curious now. “What’s that?”

See? You don’t know everything.

“If I don’t, it’s because you didn’t teach me.”

Another harrumph. One day, Hanum’anya, first ruler of the sky dragons, came to my kind. “Greetings, cousin,” he said. “I’m planning a gift for the great god Niur and have need of your wings. May I borrow them?”

My foremother, the Serpent Queen, was no fool. She refused. But Hanum’anya was persistent. “Come, permit me to borrow your wings. I shall make them better than before.”

“We are content with our wings as they are.”

“But you cannot fly high enough to reach the sky dragons in Heaven, nor can you swim deep enough to Ai’long, realm of the sea dragons. Lend them to me, and when I return them, no realm shall be unknown to you, mortal or immortal. It is all to your benefit. What say you?”

The Serpent Queen thought long and hard. “You may borrow our wings,” she said finally. “But I must have your promise.”

“Of course.”

So Hanum’anya borrowed our wings, but the dragon had lied on two accounts. First, he didn’t use the wings to create a gift for Niur. Quite the opposite. Ukar’s scales turn dark as a cloud crosses the sun. Haven’t you wondered why Mount Hanum’anya is also called the Demons’ Cradle?

“I can’t honestly say I’ve thought much about it.”

Ukar lets out an exasperated sigh. Vanna would have made a better student than you. He stole our wings to construct an army of new creatures. Monsters that might overthrow Niur.

“Demons,” I breathe, suddenly understanding. The oldest, most powerful demons could fly.

Yes. Ukar hisses with displeasure. We rue our role in their creation and how it has shaped our name in all eyes.

I think of how I often curse by saying Serpents of Hell. I won’t do it again. “But you were tricked.”

Only snakes know the truth. Hanum’anya and his heirs spread their own story. That is why many across Lor’yan despise snakes and find us untrustworthy.

“What’s the other way that Hanum’anya lied?”

He worded his promise cleverly, so he’d have to grant us access to all the realms only after he returned our wings. He never did.

“So you don’t trust dragons.” I roll my eyes. “That was one dragon, and hundreds, if not thousands, of years ago.”

Legends always have a spark of truth. Dragons are not to be trusted. Those with demon blood least of all.

Ukar’s waiting for me to agree, to keep heading north for the other end of the jungle to seek a village and a boat. But I can’t.

I think about how concerned Hokzuh looked this morning when I woke from my nightmare. There was an understanding in his eyes and a moment of shared torment and vulnerability that I’ve never felt with anyone before.

I know it’s a tenuous connection that Hokzuh and I share, and that I hardly know him. Yet a part of me has waited seventeen years to meet him. Our fates were meant to cross, and now they have.

“Hokzuh was brought to me for a reason,” I say finally. “If there’s any chance that he can help me save Vanna, I have to take it. I have to trust him.”

I steer back to the beach, knowing Ukar will catch up when he’s ready.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Hokzuh is still asleep when we return.