Page 107 of Embrace the Serpent

Two figures dove out of a balcony, into the lake. They rose up on water horses, breaking into a gallop across the surface of the lake.

One rider had a stream of black hair like silk, the other a head of bronze. Mirandel and Vanon.

Eagle folk streaked after them, their wings catching a current, bows in their hands. They shot at both of them. Mirandel was faster, evading the arrows, but Vanon’s horse balked, rearing on its hind legs, and he fell behind.

The eagle folk chased after her, but she crossed onto the lakeshore, and the ranks of Imperial soldiers surrounded her.

The eagle folk were forced to fall back, though they picked up Vanon on the way.

The report came to us minutes later. The old heartstone was shattered. And Rane’s heart was gone.

Mirandel had stolen it.

Vanon gave no explanation, said nothing at all, as the eagle folk brought him before the Serpent King. He only stared at the ground, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it. Huntsmen led him away to be imprisoned.

A healer murmured to the Serpent King, saying the prolonged exposure to the tourmaline collar had made him susceptible toMirandel’s voice, to her commands, even after she no longer had access to the jewel.

Nothing could be done. There was no restoring the border enchantments. The entire reason Rane had brought me here had come to nothing. And worse, by bringing me here, it felt like I had inflicted my ghosts upon them.

My thumb sought out my mother’s ring, before I remembered that the Serpent King had it.

He stood alone, a dark look on his face, his thoughts turned inward. My gaze fell to his hands, to his unadorned fingers, and my heart twinged.

The Serpent King exhaled and straightened. “The plan has changed. We will do everything in our power to retrieve the heartstone.”

His words sent a ripple through the huntsmen.

Within a quarter of an hour, the huntsmen were helmed and armed to the teeth. Their mounts rose from the lake, more water than horse, their manes flowing in the air like froth on a wave. Behind them the lake was dark as a bruise, reflecting the gloomy clouds shrouding the sky.

Standing alone was the Serpent King. His silver hair whipped in the wind. He seemed immense, like his shoulders could blot out the sky. Silver-armored, covered in scales, his pupils slitted.

A stranger.

He strode to me, dangerous, purposeful.

“I think this is the end,” he said quietly.

“It might not be,” I said.

He did not smile. “I will do what I must.”

“Rane—” I touched his hand, and he turned. I rose to the tipsof my toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He stood still as stone, and I realized I had already lost him.

He said, “Goodbye.”

The huntsmen took off, their horses racing across the lake’s surface.

The Serpent King lingered on the lake’s edge. He tilted his head up to the sky, and like a flower unfolding, he grew.

Scales rippled across his skin, shimmering in the dim light, and his form twisted and grew, transforming into the massive, sinuous shape of a giant silver serpent.

He grew larger and larger, and he slid out the balcony, down into the lake, so immense that he almost looked like a bridge crossing the water, a serpent large enough to devour the world.

My mother sat with me on the balcony, Grimney in her lap.

The lake was dark and scattered with debris, the remains of the barges. The Imperial Army was at the lakeshore. Behind them, the forest rose, and atop the rise was a line of grand tents. Their flags flapped in the wind, too far to make out anything but the color, but I knew Incarnadine’s was among them.

The town was aflame. Imperial soldiers fought the huntsmen and the divine peoples.