Page 27 of Bound by Wishes (Enchanted Deceptions #1)

B eing bitten by a snake, waiting for its venom to seep into my bloodstream and stop the heart that beat in my chest, was not my ideal way to go out in this world. I gripped the backrest of the throne tighter as they slithered below. The thought of those fangs sinking into my skin sent a sickening dread through me. It looked like this forgotten chamber of death and deceit was going to be the end of me and Malik.

“What’s happening?” Ranen’s voice rumbled, making him sound like he was right beside me. Oh, how I wish he were. He could conjure up another magic carpet and fly us out of here.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare magic carpet you could send in to pick us up, do you?” I asked, my voice shaking as a few of the snakes started coiling around the legs of the throne. Panic flared as I grabbed the plush velvet cushion, using it to knock the serpents away. The once- elegant cushion was now my desperate shield against the advancing horde, but the snakes kept coming.

“Neither my magic nor I can enter the mines.” Ranen’s voice rang in my mind, carrying a note of alarm. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” I laughed nervously, my voice saturated with fear. “The floor’s just turned into thousands of deadly serpents. That’s all.”

“Sayyida, you are going to be the death of me,” Ranen grumbled.

“Excuse me,” Malik gulped, his eyes darting nervously between the snakes and me. “I hate to interrupt this one-sided chat, but what are we going to do? Can he help us or not?”

“Not,” I said, knocking a particularly large horned viper away. Its sinister spiky head reminded me of the devil himself.

Malik's eyes widened as he glanced down at the twisting mass of serpents. “Cal,” he said breathlessly. “What are we going to do? I ain’t being eaten alive by snakes.”

I clenched my teeth and continued to fend off the advancing snakes with the velvet cushion, my eyes darting around the chamber for any sign of salvation. “We’ll find a way out,” I said, trying to sound more optimistic than I felt.

“How?” Malik yelled, his voice bouncing off the rafters above.

A high-pitched squeal escaped me when a mamba struck at the pillow, sinking its fangs into the soft material. I flung it away, and the snake's body vanished into the endless sea of serpents. It was impossible to tell where one ended and another began. The mamba left behind two puncture holes in the pillow, and the surrounding area was saturated in venom.

My gaze traced the walls and wandered across the ceiling, desperate for anything that could help—a symbol, an inscription, any clue that might get us out of here. Desperation tugged at me, threatening to drag me lower than the writhing mass of serpents below.

“I don’t know,” I admitted as my throat constricted with defeat.

“Stop that! Don’t you dare cry,” Malik scolded, turning me to face him. “I’ve known you long enough to know that when you cry, you give up. We don’t have time for that.”

I sniffled, forcing the tears back. Malik was right. I could have a complete meltdown after we escaped this nightmare, but not now.

“Sayyida, think!” Ranen’s voice roared in my mind, his tone a rumbling command. “You’re too clever to let a den of serpents defeat you.”

I took a deep breath as the mass continued to slither. “Have you seen a cobra?” I blurted out loud, turning to Malik.

“Who could tell?” he retorted, his eyes sweeping across the endless sea of scales.

I scanned the serpents carefully, my knowledge of snakes and their venom coming in handy. Thanks to my father, I was well-versed in which species were safe and which were dangerous. He’d taught me how to identify the most venomous varieties and the first aid needed in case of a bite. This information had always been crucial during our field excursions, where we often found ourselves miles away from any medical assistance .

A flash of silver caught my attention, cutting through the chaotic tangle of vipers. My eyes narrowed as I focused on the gleam, searching through the mass of scaly bodies. The shimmer revealed itself to be a serpent unlike the others. Its scales were hauntingly beautiful, their color shifting between a silvery sheen and a lustrous pearl. Each scale seemed to capture and reflect the faintest glimmer of light, creating an ethereal glow that made the snake appear as though it were draped in moonlight.

“Look at that.” I tugged at Malik’s sleeve. “It’s the same serpent that was weaved in the tapestry, coiled around the scepter.”

“Great! Our death has arrived in the form of a cursed ghost snake.” Malik sneered.

I didn’t respond, too entranced by its sleek, iridescent body, which seemed to glide gracefully above the mass of lesser serpents. Its hood flared open, reflecting the light in a mesmerizing dance of colors. As it glided closer to us, its eyes, as dark as a moonless night, seemed to hold secrets of ancient magic and long-forgotten times. The cobra's tongue flickered in and out with fluid grace, tasting the air to get a sense of us.

Something about it called to me, and I stepped off of the throne and into the endless sea of serpents.

“Cal!” Malik’s voice broke.

“Stay there,” I warned, my heart pounding faster than it ever had in my entire life.

“Sayyida, what are you doing?” Ranen's voice echoed through my mind, laced with tight concern. “I can feel your fear from way out here.”

I swallowed hard, my gaze locked onto the coiling serpents and their glistening scales. I cautiously waded through the wriggling mass, each movement tightening the knot of unease in my stomach. By some miracle, they didn’t strike, merely slithered away as I passed.

“Sayyida?” Ranen's voice carried a sharp edge of warning.

“I know what I’m doing,” I replied, but my voice trembled, betraying the uncertainty gnawing at me. Or at least, I hoped I did.

The serpents coiled around me, their scales brushing against each other with a dry, rustling sound. With my heart in my throat, I eased forward. They began to move out of my way as though they recognized something within me, an unspoken connection that pulsed through the blood in my veins. Their eyes, cold and unblinking, watched me in a way that made the hair at the back of my neck prickle.

As I approached the phantom cobra, it began to coil, its sleek body tightening with lethal grace. The air grew thick with tension as its hood fanned out wider, exposing the intricate silver markings that shimmered across its scales. Every muscle in its body seemed to ripple ready to strike, and its eyes locked onto mine. The cobra swayed back and forth in a mesmerizing rhythm, as if trying to hypnotize me. Each move pulled at my senses, tempting me to surrender to its silent, deadly dance.

“Cal!” Malik called behind me, his tone quivering.

“I’m okay,” I assured him, never taking my eyes off the serpent that was trying to lure me into a trance.

With each sinuous movement, the cobra's scales gleamed like liquid metal, catching the light and reflecting shades of silver and pearl as it tried to pull me deeper under its spell.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, my voice steady despite the thunderous pounding of my heart. I extended my hand, bringing it inches away from the cobra’s deadly fangs. One strike, and it would all be over in a matter of minutes, but I held my ground, refusing to let fear dictate my fate.

The cobra shifted, and a wave of dizziness swept over me, leaving me drenched in sweat. My vision blurred as it moved closer, its cold, smooth nose brushing against my trembling fingertips before its forked tongue flicked out, tasting my skin. The serpent then rose, its powerful muscles coiling and pushing it upward until it hovered just above my hand. I held my breath, muscles locked in place, as it twisted around my arm. Its scales were cool and slightly ridged against my skin. As it coiled around my arm, the scales created a slight friction that sounded like the soft rustle of dried leaves.

It continued to loop around my arm until it gracefully slid across my shoulders, around the back of my neck, and then slithered down the other arm. The cobra extended its neck, holding its position with a poised elegance. Its beady eyes locked onto mine, as if inviting me to take hold.

Good sense begged me not to touch it, but something stronger than me was guiding my actions. With trembling hands, I grasped the cobra just below its flared hood. Its muscles tensed in my sweaty palms as its sinuous body fell away from my arm. The serpent's form solidified, transforming into a magnificent staff. The once hauntingly beautiful snake was now precious metal. Its surface gleamed with a blend of silver and pearl, capturing the serpent’s elegant scales in radiant detail. The menacing eyes that seemed to see through my soul were now black diamonds that sparkled with a mysterious brilliance.

I lowered the staff to the ground, the rounded tip gently touching the floor. The thousands of serpents dissolved back into shimmering mounds of treasure and gold.

“Did you see that?” I asked, wide-eyed, turning to Malik, who was still frozen in place, clinging to the throne.

“I saw, and I still don’t believe it,” he replied, his gaze shifting nervously over the floor. He carefully lowered one foot to the ground, as if expecting it to transform back into a writhing mass of vipers at any moment.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the staff in my hand. Its power seemed to hum against my skin, calling to me like a long-lost lover. Every subtle vibration felt like a whispered promise, drawing me closer to my heritage and its intoxicating magic.

“I assume you're not dead yet,” Ranen growled, his agitation clear in his tone. “Care to fill me in on what just happened?”

“I have it,” I said breathlessly, still in shock.

“Have what? The scepter?” Ranen demanded.

“It’s not a scepter,” I said, lifting the staff toward the light. Its silvery pearl essence gleamed, and the black diamonds sparkled. "It’s a staff,” I clarified.

“I don’t remember anything about a staff in the old scrolls,” Ranen argued. “Are you sure you have the right thing?”

After everything that had just happened and with the power seeping through the staff in my hands, I was certain we had found what we came for. “Yes,” I replied with conviction.

“Very well, Sayyida,” Ranen relented, his tone softening. “Now get out of there before something else happens.”

“We’re coming,” I promised.

I walked back toward the entrance, glancing behind me when I realized Malik wasn’t following. His eyes were fixed on a towering pile of coins.

“Do you think something bad will happen if I touch it now?” he asked.

I smiled and returned to him. “I don’t think so. Not now that we have the staff.”

Malik reached toward the gold, and I held my breath as his fingers brushed against the pile. A soft clinking sound filled the air as a few coins tumbled to the ground, but nothing else happened and no snakes reappeared. He looked at me with a playful smile on his face, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he shoved coins into his pockets.

“We may need some for the road,” he assured me, cramming as much as he could into the pockets of his cargo pants.

“Slow down,” I warned him. “You’re not going to be able to walk if you keep on.”

“Here, put some in your pants,” Malik urged, thrusting a fistful of coins toward me.

“I don’t want to put them in my pants,” I replied, stepping back as gold fever overtook him.

“What exactly are you putting in your pants, Sayyida?” Ranen purred in my head, sending a rippling effect of embarrassment through me.

“Nothing,” I hissed, my face flushing with heat. I eyed Malik up and down. “Come on, Malik! We can treasure hunt later. Have you forgotten we have a Nightshade to stop?”

Malik stuffed his pants with coins and jewels until they overflowed, reluctantly trailing behind me. I smiled to myself as I heard fabric ripping, followed by the clattering of coins and jewels spilling onto the ground. Turning back around, I found one of his pockets had split open, and he was scowling at his treasure that was now scattered across the floor.

“Serves you right for being so greedy,” I scolded him, a hint of satisfaction in my voice.

I stopped at the entrance, recalling our near-death experience with the arrows. I touched the staff to the dusty ground, hoping its magic would disarm any other hidden traps. As soon as the staff made contact, power surged through it, transforming the dark, dusty tunnels before my eyes.

The gloomy passageways were now regal and grand, their walls lined with polished stone that gleamed. Brass torches lined the walls, flaring to life with flickering flames. The floor beneath our feet smoothed into polished stone, reflecting the torchlight and creating a path fit for royalty. The oppressive darkness was banished, turning what was once a place of danger into a walkway meant for a king.

“That’s much better,” Malik said, stepping onto the shiny, polished floor. As he moved forward, a trail of coins fell from his overstuffed pockets, the metallic tinging echoing against the floor, leaving a glittering path in his wake.

I shook my head at his antics and followed him down the stunning, winding hallway that led us out of King Thalorian’s mines.

My heart beat a little louder as we neared the exit, the sound drumming in my ears. I wasn’t sure if it was the foreboding thought of what—or who—lay ahead that made my pulse quicken.

Sand from the desert outside blew in, the grains sprinkling across the marbled floor as we stepped out of the tunnels. The moment we emerged, the heat hit us full force, as if someone had thrown a heavy bag over my head. The scorching air wrapped around me, making each breath feel thick and labored.

Ranen lounged nearby, hovering just above the desert floor as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The scorching heat seemed to have no effect on him, his demeanor relaxed and almost indifferent. But the moment he saw us, he slowly lowered himself to the ground, his eyes immediately locking onto the staff in my hands. Something dark and intense swirled in his irises, a hunger that made me instinctively tighten my grip on the staff.

“You’re hurt,” he said, motioning to the blood that now stained the staff, smearing across its smooth surface. The crimson streaks stood out against the silvery sheen.

“It’s nothing,” I assured him, brushing aside his concern as I tried to sidestep him.

He extended his hand toward me, his gaze locking with mine. “I thought we were past this,” he said, his voice lowering. “You don’t always have to be so strong. It’s hard enough just watching you carry it all.”

“If you’re not strong, you break,” I said with a huff.

Ranen stepped closer, his breath warm against my ear. “ In my kingdom,” he whispered, “broken things are mended with gold. The flaw becomes part of the object’s story, a mark of its history that only adds to its beauty.”

“You don’t have to be so philosophical,” I said, handing Malik the staff and holding out both of my scraped and bloodied palms before Ranen.

The raw skin and smeared blood looked worse than it was. As his magic flowed over me, caressing the wounds and knitting the torn flesh back together, a cool, soothing sensation spread over my skin. The pain faded almost instantly, replaced by a calming warmth that made butterflies dance in my stomach.

Ranen’s gaze shifted to my injured arm. With hands that were surprisingly gentle for their size, he carefully untied the makeshift bandage. His scowl deepened as fresh blood pooled from the deep slash and ran down my arm.

“Ouch,” I yelped as his magic began its tedious work. The sensation wasn’t painful, but his gentle touch and proximity made me feel antsy. I tried to break the spell he seemed to be weaving over me.

As his gaze locked with mine, Ranen’s lips curled into a smirk. “You know, it’s quite the inconvenience having to heal such a remarkable troublemaker all the time,” he said in a low, growly voice. His hand slid up my arm, pulling me closer and stealing the breath from my lungs.

“I hate to interrupt this tender moment, but we have company!” Malik shoved the staff back into my hands.

The same riders in dark cloaks and face coverings who had attacked us at the dig site crested the far hill, their thundering hooves pounding across the dunes as they charged toward us .

“The Canaari Medjai,” I gasped, turning to Ranen. “What do they want?”

“To stop us,” Ranen answered, and his magic began to swirl around us.

A plush carpet materialized beneath us. “But they’re too late,” he added with a gritty edge to his voice.

I glanced back at the riders, now mere specks against the stretch of golden sand. Unease gnawed at me, making me feel queasy. Why would they want to prevent us from stopping the Nightshade?