Page 23 of Embrace the Serpent

On the far side of Copperton, at the junction where the Imperial Road resumed its southward journey, was the sort of roadside

watering hole made for those who did not plan on lingering. Several groups huddled in the courtyard, some bent over their

meals, some brushing and watering their horses and camels. There were three wagons, one shabby but large carriage, a sleek

mail carriage, and an oxcart.

“The mail carriage is no good,” Rane said as he tore a bit of fried bread and used it to mop up a mouthful of spiced cream

sauce. “That’s the first place they’ll look. Every last one of them will be stopped and checked by the guards.” That was a

pity. The mail carriage’s horses had jewels embedded in their bridles and in the metal of their hooves. I couldn’t be sure

without examining them, but I would have wagered the pale jewels in their horseshoes made them extra swift.

“What about them?” I nodded at a vicious-looking trio, all of whom boasted nasty scars and the kind of facial hair that seemed

unkempt but was really carefully designed to appear menacing. “They’ve got a wagon, and it looks fast. They’ll take a fair

bit of coin, but I think you’re good for that, and we probably should sleep in shifts.”

“The mercenaries ? You can’t be serious,” Rane said. “They’ll cut our throats if they find out who we are.”

“I wasn’t planning on telling them,” I said. “Were you?”

His nose scrunched up, and he busied himself with his food. “How about them?”

I followed his gaze. Five women in priestess robes, ranging in age from one-foot-in-the-next-life to a rosy-cheeked young

teen.

“No, definitely not,” I said.

Rane quirked an amused brow. “Come on. They look nice.”

I raised both my brows. “Look a little closer.”

One of the priestesses shifted, and the folds of her robe fell open. She quickly corrected herself, concealing again the belt

and daggers wrapped around her waist.

“Those,” I said, “are better mercenaries.”

Rane gave me a look. “How did you know that?”

“I was paying attention,” I said. Grimney maneuvered himself halfway out of my pocket to take a look and I patted his head.

“I’ve underestimated you again,” Rane said quietly.

Again? I glanced at him.

His expression was soft, open. “It was brave, what you did for us.”

Embarrassment made an invisible barrier that kept my gaze from going higher than his chin. “It wasn’t me, really. It was all

the Serpent King.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“You freed yourselves. I just gave the signal. And the Serpent King cast that illusion.”

“Is it so hard to take a compliment?”

“You’re better at it, you know. Illusions.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You’re very loyal.”

“And you truly despise him.”

His words struck a wrong note. “What is he like, when he’s with you? Is he cruel?”

Rane stiffened. “He must appear so, to keep his people safe.”

“But is he?”

“I... don’t know. He can be.” He took a deep breath. “If it matters, I don’t like him much either.”

We fell quiet. The stable hand did quick business, leading two sturdy horses and handing them over to a pair of travelers.

“We could go on horseback,” Rane said, “though I heard you’re afraid of horses.”

“I’m not,” I lied, too quickly. Grimney gave a rocky chuckle from my pocket.

“Really?” Rane said with a slow smile. “You wouldn’t mind if we went the rest of the way on horseback?”

“H-how far is that, exactly?”

“Oh, days and days. Weeks.”

Oh stars. My thighs were still bruised stiff from the last ride. “I can do it.”

He laughed. “You can trust me, you know.”

Amusement danced in his eyes, but I had the feeling that he didn’t mean it lightly.

I was saved from answering by a commotion from within the inn. A ripple went through the courtyard: the Imperial Guards were

here.

Save for the pair manning the mail carriage, the rest moved in a shifty-eyed swarm toward their respective vehicles. “Let’s flip a coin, eh?” Rane said.

The next few days passed in a blur of the same. Bargaining for rides at random roadside spots. Plotting a meandering path

south. But no matter where we went, Imperial Guards followed soon after, asking for a girl jewelsmith.

We couldn’t linger. I grew desperate for a bath. My skin was grimy with road dust, and yet I still smelled faintly floral

and of sickly-sweet honey. The oils and soaps and whatever else Lady Incarnadine put in her bath proved their worth, but I

wished they were not so potent.

Part of me just missed the smells I was used to. Smoke and wax and the slight metallic tinge that hung in the air after sanding

and polishing.

I missed jewelsmithing.

A burst of laughter drew my attention. A man with a topknot clapped Rane on the back like they were old friends.

That was the other thing: Rane made friends with everyone. How did he do it? What could he possibly know about this man he’d

just met, to even carry a conversation, much less whatever this was?

I mean, I spent years watching Galen butter people up, but that was all gossip, all smiles that hid a hiss and a claw. He

never made anyone laugh like this.

Rane jogged back, a faint smile on his lips. “He’ll take us, he just needs about an hour.”

I bit my lip, hesitating, and then blurted out, “What did you say to him?”

“Uh, ‘please, could you give us a lift’?”

“Not that. The rest of it.”

He shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Nothing, really.”

“But—you were smiling and laughing. He just started telling you his life story?”

“Well, I suppose I noticed the dye-work on his clothes. It looked like Pochampally style handloom work, which I’ve only read

about, so I guess I asked him about it, if he lived there. And he told me his daughter visited and brought back some yards

of it, and he couldn’t get anyone in his hometown to like it until a fashionable friend of his wore it to a wedding—then somehow

we got to talking about the beautiful things that people don’t notice—” He cut himself off. “It’s all nonsense, really.”

“It’s not nonsense,” I said.

His cheeks pinked. “I dream about wandering, sometimes. Seeing all there is to see.”

“Why don’t you?”

“I know where I belong,” he said.

“Surely the Serpent King would let you go and travel.”

“I’m afraid he would not.”

My estimation of the Serpent King was on a rapid decline. “You shouldn’t listen to him, then.”

“It’s not so simple. You’ll understand once we get home.”

Home. The Serpent Kingdom was his home, but where was mine?

Rane clicked his teeth. “They’re early.”

A dust cloud was coming nearer. A half dozen Imperial Guards at least.

“How are they catching up with us?”

“We got rid of all the tracker stones,” I said.

Rane nodded.

There had to be something else, something I’d overlooked.

“Let’s go,” Rane said. But we headed away from his friend, whose carriage was as yet unhitched to his horses.

A large wagon was taking off. I caught a glimpse of colorful paint on the sides, but I couldn’t make out more than that.

Rane handed me up, and I scrambled into the dark interior, cupping my pocket to protect a sleeping Grimney. Rane leapt in

after me, and we drew the curtain down. A half dozen Imperial Guards marched out, surrounded by the chaos of departing vehicles.

A melodic voice came from behind us. “My, what do we have here?”

There were four of them. Two were in the process of washing off a thick layer of cosmetics. One held a zither; it twanged

out of tune. The last had the shiniest bald dome I’d ever seen, with a luxurious beard to offset it. His eyes were large and

romantic.

Along one side of the wagon were rolled-up canvases, heavily painted. Stage backdrops. A trunk overflowed with crowns, swords,

costumes.

“How wonderful!” Rane said. “Actors!”

I reached for the curtain. The ground whooshed past, fast enough that jumping would hurt badly, but I’d likely survive—

A hand gripped my dress and hauled me back inside the wagon.

Rane put his arm around my shoulders and said, “This is my wife. We’ve had to run, you see.

Our families... they did not approve.

” A convincing sorrow came to his eyes, and his lips trembled like he was putting on a brave smile. I gaped at him.

“How touching,” said a woman with kind, honey-colored eyes. She wiped the last of the makeup from her lips and smiled. “We

know something of that, don’t we, Barad?”

Barad was the bald man. He leaned back, and it was clear he was the leader. “Let’s not get taken in, love.”

“We can pay,” I said.

“We can pay well ,” Rane confirmed.

“We can’t throw them out,” the honey-eyed woman said. “Not when that villain is on the loose.”

Barad’s brow arched.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

Barad cleared his throat. “Well, then, welcome to your humble chariot.”

I revised my opinion of who the leader was as Rane burst into a flowery expression of thanks. We soon learned that they were

indeed a theater troupe, six strong. Two were up front at the rein; one was the writer, and the second the artist in charge

of keeping the props and backdrops.

The honey-eyed woman introduced herself as Maras, the musician plucked a few notes and refused to speak, and the last member

was a doe-eyed person who murmured about beauty sleep and tucked themselves into a hammock.

As they settled in for the night, I found myself playing with my mother’s ring, my thumb mapping the crack in the dark blue stone.

My hand stilled. That day, in the baths, Incarnadine had taken my mother’s ring.

Could she have done something to it? Embedded a small tracker stone, somehow?

It would’ve been smart to toss it, especially as it could never work again. But I couldn’t.

I dug through my bag for my tools. My hands instead found the bundle the old shopkeeper had pressed into my hands. I vaguely

remembered emptying my pockets into my bag outside of Copperton.

I unwrapped it. It was the peri-made doll’s set. I tapped it as he showed me, and the food appeared. I couldn’t just lift