Page 110 of Embrace the Serpent

The horse slowed its gait. Up ahead, on the ridge, the encampment loomed over us.

A whispered, “You will let me pass,” got us past the lone guard on the road, and then we were inside the camp.

We passed rows of simple tents flying five different flags; some were empty, and some were occupied by soldiers eating and readying themselves. I recognized the Imperial standard, as well as the frog-and-shield flag of the garrison Rane and I had so briefly entertained. Unlike the soldiers from the city, they were strumming music and playing cards with a strange sort of intensity, like they were trying very hard not to think of what was to come.

I moved quickly past them, lest they recognize me or, worse, ask for a repeat performance.

Amongst the other garrisons, the atmosphere was subdued. They spoke in whispers, and the wind carried snippets to my ears. They feared the silver serpent. They had greater numbers, but how many would have to fall before they took the Serpent King down?

We went deeper into the camp.

Above one of the tents rose a billow of fire. A smith’s tent, open on three sides, for both a blacksmith and army jewelsmith. A short figure was repairing a sword. He looked up.

It was Galen. I had a strange feeling. He looked so small, soridiculous. Why had I let him decide so much for me?

He glanced at me, but I turned away.

Others were staring. Servants, pausing in their work to gape at me. The horse, being pale blue-green, was drawing too much attention.

I dismounted ungracefully and whispered to the horse. “Stay out of trouble. But I may need you again, quite soon.”

It whinnied and pointed its nose at Grimney, as if to say,He can reach me.

The horse became mist, and Grimney and I were alone in the enemy’s camp.

“Come along,” I said to him. On foot, we didn’t stand out too much, considering the number of attendants and maids running around. The army had not traveled light at all.

The tents grew larger and more ornate as we made our way to the other end of the encampment, which was on a ridge overlooking the Serpent Kingdom, from the town to the half-submerged palace. The atmosphere here was jubilant. I could almost pretend I was back in the Imperial City, amongst the tents of those who had come for the Season. These tents, too, bore crests of noble families, like this was all a party, another way to curry favor with Incarnadine and the Emperor.

I searched the flags that twisted in the wind. Above a large white tent flew the crown and fire insignia of the Rose Palace.

Two guards stood at the entrance. “Let me pass,” I said, and then added, “and run to the other end of camp. Once there, scream ‘fire.’”

Their expressions went vague as they took off at a jog. I didn’t know if the tourmaline’s influence would last across the distance,but at least I’d bought a little time.

I slipped into the tent, with Grimney sticking so close he might as well have been part of my shoe.

The smoky-sweet scent of incense filled my nose, and under it was the coppery tang of blood. Incarnadine reclined on cushions, a freshly-painted map of the Serpent Kingdom laid out before her. She was injured, a gash on her leg, already bleeding through the bandages, but there was a small, satisfied smile on her lips.

“Hand me the heartstone,” I said loudly.

Her gaze rose to my face, then fell to the tourmaline collar.

“That will not work on me,” Incarnadine said.

My blood froze. I hadn’t counted on djinn being immune.

“So, little jewelsmith. Are you here to surrender?”

“No. I’m here to retrieve what you stole.”

She laughed. “This heartstone is my only way of controlling the beast.”

I paused. “You think he can be controlled?”

“No? Then perhaps I shall destroy it.”

“That won’t kill him. But it will mean he’ll stay a rampaging beast. He’s killing your soldiers by the dozens.” It was an exaggeration, but not by much.