Page 18 of Embrace the Serpent

This was the first time one of them had acknowledged me. There was something I didn’t like in the way he assessed me.

“Very well,” said the Serpent King.

The guard peeled away.

“That can only be bad news,” he muttered mostly to himself.

“How bad?” I asked.

Thoughts flickered in his eyes. “It will be fine. They won’t harm us, not if they hope to find a way into my kingdom.”

Was he reassuring himself or me? “We’re not going to Copperton, are we?”

He pressed a finger to his lips. He shook his head. “Of course we are.”

A tense atmosphere fell between us. I packed away my tools and held on to Grimney.

We entered a narrow pass carved into the hills, walls of reinforced earth rising on either side of the carriage. The wind

whistled through the gap.

The Serpent King grew focused, and the air seemed to prickle with anticipation.

The first carriage sped up, and so did we.

“It’s time,” he said to me.

An earsplitting crack .

Above, a tree tilted—it was going to fall right on us. Its shadow fell across the road.

The driver shouted—the horses galloped—and we hurtled past.

A thud of impact. The carriage lifted off the ground and crashed back, still rolling at a gallop. I squeezed my eyes shut

and suddenly there were arms holding me steady.

I opened my eyes to the Serpent King’s chest. His gaze was fixed outside, and I twisted to see. Our three carriages had made it through, but the Imperial carriages were cut off. The Imperial outriders were guiding their horses over the felled tree and giving chase.

Up ahead, the road split into three. The left went toward a rocky plateau, the right followed the river, and the middle went

through the hills and into the dark mountains.

A shout came from the soldiers. “Stop!”

Something was happening. The carriage shimmered under me, like light catching on dust.

Our bluish horses turned brown, and the carriage became identical to those the huntsmen drove.

Another shimmer, and there were three pearly blue carriages. The curtain fluttered open in the next one, and there was another

Serpent King and another me.

The road was wide enough for two carriages side by side. We overtook one of the huntsmen’s and then were overtaken by the

other.

Rane was playing a life-size game of cups.

As we came up on the fork in the road, we went straight, and the huntsmen went down the other paths.

The Imperial Guards split up to follow each carriage. I counted ten guards on horseback following us. More followed Rane’s

carriage. I held my breath as he outpaced them, until the trees grew too thick, and he was gone from view.

The guards behind us unsheathed their weapons. The Serpent King sucked a breath through his teeth.

An arrow thunked into the siding beside the window. An inch to the right, and it would’ve gone through and hit me.

My voice came out shrill. “What did you say about them not hurting us?”

“I should’ve torn that scroll from his hands and read it myself,” the Serpent King said. “Something’s changed, and I don’t know what it is. It’s my fault for playing nice. Stay down.”

He opened the door. It swung wildly in the wind, and he climbed up next to the driver.

A guard drew close, one hand on his reins, the other holding a sword.

The Serpent King unwrapped a metal belt from his waist. He flicked it, and it became a flexible length of steel. A whip-sword.

Arrows peppered the side of the carriage.

I dropped to my knees, crouching in the footwell. Grimney was excitedly peeking out the window. I grabbed his foot and dragged

him down with me.

The Serpent King’s voice commanded, “Get off the road!”

We crashed through the woods. A shriek of branches scraping the lacquer. Thumps on the roof, of trees dropping seedpods and

what might’ve been a small monkey, judging by the agitated screech. A bump threw me into the air and I landed hard on my knees.

I clutched Grimney, bracing myself.

The carriage bounced and rattled to a stop.

The Serpent King tore open the door. “Are you all right?”

Crouched against the seats, I nodded. His hair was windswept, but he looked unhurt.

“Something’s changed. Stay here, stay hidden.” He paused, then shook his head. “You’ll be fine.”

He shut the door carefully. The driver had an arrow sticking out of his arm, but he went with the Serpent King, back the way

we came, through the path of broken branches and crushed foliage.

“Yes,” I said to Grimney. “We’ll just stay here. That’s a lovely plan.”

The mist seeped into the carriage, bringing with it the smell of wet, damp earth. From outside came strange noises, a mocking

sort of chittering, mournful trills, and cackling shrieks. They’re just lovely birds, I told myself. Lovely little bugs and

lizards.

Then they all fell silent.

Footsteps. Creeping ones, tentative and sneaking, stopping whenever a twig or seedpod crunched underfoot.

The horses screamed.

The carriage door swung open. A square-jawed man, an Imperial Guard. “I found her!” he shouted over his shoulder. “She’s alone!”

I screamed and kicked out, connecting with something hard that snapped.

He reared back, clutching his nose. “You wretch!” he said—at least I thought that’s what he said, since it sounded more like

“Ooo resh!”

He swung a fist. Grimney leapt at him and bit his ear.

The guard swatted at his face, staggering back.

I ducked under his flailing arms and out the carriage. “Grims!” Grimney jumped, and I caught him.

I ran. As fast as I could. His footsteps—no longer careful—dogged me. He kept up a string of curses, then switched to threats

of what he’d do to me, which made me run twice as fast.

Another voice came, distant and hoarse. “Bring her alive!”

Branches grabbed at my clothes. I tripped and caught myself, and tripped again. Tree roots, blasted things.

I crawled into a thicket, through the knotted underbelly of roots and branches. The guard snarled, “Where are you, little

girl?”

I held my breath.

A glint of silver. My heart leapt.

The Serpent King’s back was turned to me. The soft light filtered through the leaf cover, growing moody, resting on his shoulders

and crowning him.

Someone screamed. The Serpent King moved. A squelch, and the scream cut off.

My heart thudded.

A guard—the one who had been chasing me—ran at him, sword raised, nose bleeding, ear bleeding.

The Serpent King turned to meet him, and I caught a glimpse of his face in profile, his teeth bared as he struck fast as a

cobra. Blood splattered across his clothes, his face.

I scrambled back. The air had a metallic tang, and it reminded me—it reminded me—

The guard’s body crashed to the ground.

I remembered.

The smell of fire, of resin smoke. The thuds of a battering ram at the front door, dust falling from the rafters with each

boom.

My mother’s tear-lined face. Her lips parted. Hide.

Her ring dropped into my hand. The door shut, throwing me into darkness. A sliver of light. I pressed my eye to the crack.

I saw a pool of blood, spreading. Here, on the forest floor. There, on my mother’s prized carpet.

The guard was dying. My mother was dead.

Blood painted the Serpent King’s lips, dripped from his hands.

Some stories were true. Lady Incarnadine was a monster. And so was he.