Page 31 of Sonnets and Serpents (Casters and Crowns #2)

After looking for evidence of tunnels, Silas announced grimly that he was convinced they existed but his snakes couldn’t find an entrance. His best guess was that it was inside the prison.

Which was when Eliza suggested sneaking into the prison, and, to her shock, he agreed.

They argued details all afternoon. They’d taken seats at one of the many tables in the Yamakaz, next to a window streaming sunlight, and the warm light on Eliza’s skin made her feel confident and daring—though not quite daring enough to agree to some of the insanity Silas had in mind.

“You want me to be a snake?” she repeated, her legs tensing to run from the idea.

He lifted his shoulders, palms face-up on the table with his fingers laced. “How do you think I plan to escape the cell? A person can’t fit through the bars, but a snake can, and since we’re stuck together on everything, you’ll need to be one too.”

Eliza scooted her chair back until she was out of his reach. “You can turn other people into snakes?”

“If I draw their blood. So I’ll need to bite you—while in my own viper form, of course.”

Of course. It would be ridiculous if he bit her as a human, but it was reasonable if he bit her as a venomous viper. Ridiculous. So very ridiculous.

She opened her mouth, but he beat her to it.

“Before you start panicking about venom,” he said, “I can control that. I’ll dry bite.”

“I’m not going to be bitten by you or anyone!” she shot back. “You can pick the lock on the cell. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of practice for your special skill with doors.”

“Assuming my lockpicks aren’t confiscated, assuming my hands aren’t bound, and assuming I can even reach the lock at any decent angle, your plan sounds splendid. If not, it’ll have to be mine.”

Before she could protest again, he cut her off.

“It’s a good thing you’re willing to do anything for your beloved Henry.”

Eliza snapped her jaw closed. He was clearly taunting her, but even so.

“I am,” she said defiantly.

“Then it’s settled.” Silas leaned forward with a crooked grin that had never looked so serpentine before. “All that’s left is the crime. So how about it, Highness—shall we start a fight or a fire?”

“I knew you were a thug,” she muttered.

“Fire it is, then.”

“I don’t want to risk hurting anyone. The kuveti already want to arrest me, so”—Eliza steeled herself—“I’ll be the bait.”

Silas raised his eyebrows, apparently impressed, and despite herself, she delighted in that.

Even if she was about to get herself thrown in prison. On purpose.

Clearly, Silas’s thoughts followed the same track. “You know there’s no guarantee,” he said softly, his dark eyes fixed on hers. “We might take all this risk and not find either of them. Something might go wrong, and we won’t make it back out.”

Leaning forward on the table, Eliza folded her arms, hushing her voice. “You know, I’d almost think you’re getting cold feet . . . if vipers had feet.”

Silas groaned loudly enough to echo from the domed ceilings. He stood, pushing away from the table, and Eliza scrambled to follow, grinning all the way.

“No, no, you walk over there.” He gave her a light push on the shoulder. “I don’t want you near me.”

She feigned a dramatic gasp. “It was just a joke, Silas.”

“The worst joke I’ve ever heard.”

“Maybe it will sound better in Pravish. Engerek avaklari soguk . . . uh, yoktur—”

“Stop.” He groaned again. “It’s so much worse. ‘Cold feet’ is an idiom, so you can’t translate it literally. You sound ridiculous.”

“Not as ridiculous as you talking about turning decent people into snakes.”

She bit her tongue, wondering if she’d taken it too far, if they’d lose the humor, but Silas’s shoulders held their easy, relaxed curve, and he kept one hand in his pocket as he walked, the other dangling near her, close enough to reach for.

Eliza forced her eyes back up to his face.

“At least I can translate mine in any language,” he said, shooting her a glance with a raised eyebrow. In return, she gave him a smile.

But she’d killed her own mood. Her thoughts spiraled back to his earlier words. Something might go wrong, and we won’t make it back out.

“I’ll write a letter to Aria,” she said. “In case everything goes horribly wrong.”

She felt a twinge of guilt. When her sister had needed her, she’d fled the country, yet she was depending on Aria’s help like always. It wasn’t fair to her older sister.

But Silas said, “That’s not a bad backup plan. Ransom from a queen.”

At the very least, she needed to take that option for his sake, because it wasn’t just her own safety on the line. And despite his faults, Eliza had no desire to see Silas trapped in prison.

Especially not a prison that had sent a string of magic users to the graveyard—at least one without bones.

“You won’t let them know you have magic, right?”

“Obviously not,” he said. “I want it to be a surprise when I slip through the bars, and I don’t want to risk being slapped with a set of magic-restraining manacles, if they have those. I have enough on my wrist as it is.”

Against her better judgment, Eliza reached for his hand. Just for a moment. She gave it a quick squeeze and released.

But her fingers continued to tingle long after she let go.

Silas insisted on scouting the prison more thoroughly and getting a better network of snakes in the area before entering.

Since their last encounter with the kuveti had gone awry, he was determined to be careful about this one, and to his pleasant surprise, Eliza agreed.

Though she was often reckless, she’d also shown a great capacity for planning and execution. She thrived with a goal to focus on.

The biggest difficulty was contingency planning—if they didn’t find a tunnel entrance, they would need another escape.

Leaving as snakes was better than trying to sneak out as humans, but even then, two adders coming out of the prison depths would be suspicious.

The kuveti had experience with magic users, so Silas couldn’t expect them to ignore a pair of animals out of place.

He needed help.

While in Kerem’s office, Silas worked up the nerve to ask for it.

“I’m doing some . . . field research,” he said tentatively, glancing at Eliza in the corner. She had her nose in her sonnet book. “And I need help with one small aspect.”

Kerem laughed. He set aside his book and folded his arms on his desk.

“If you tiptoe any more than that,” he said, “I’ll think you’re black-market dealing. What dangerous net are you entangled in? Say it plainly.”

Silas sighed. “If a kuveti guard were bitten by a snake, how likely do you think it is they’d send for you to administer an antivenom?”

“Plainer than that.”

In the end, Silas had to explain it all—the prison infiltration, the tunnels, Eliza’s missing knight, and the magic stealer. Kerem listened with rapt attention.

“You’re certain?” he asked regarding the magic stealing. “There have been countless experiments—”

“I’m certain,” Silas said. “I’ve never felt anything like it. And if I can prove it, then I can stay here permanently.”

Kerem nodded, leaning forward slightly, his expression showing the same eager grimness as when he sensed an upcoming breakthrough in an experiment. “Then let’s prove it. I’ll prep my antivenom kit.”

A heavy weight vanished from Silas’s mind. He had his contingency plan.

“Thank you,” he said.

Standing, Kerem waved a hand. “Don’t thank me. This is entirely selfish. I want to keep my research assistant.” He gave a sly smile. “And I’d very much like to see that Artifact.”

You and me both, Silas thought.

Eliza had been so impatient to put the plan into action, but when the day finally came, she had the unfair feeling it had ambushed her. Was she ready? Or was she going to make a mistake like she’d made the last time at the prison house?

Silas arranged for someone to tip off the kuveti, and then he waited with Eliza on a busy street between the prison and the market. He looked as calm as a breeze while Eliza couldn’t stop fidgeting.

“You know, you could at least protest the idea of me being bait,” she said, picking at a loop of embroidery on her shirt.

“Why? It was a clever idea.” Silas kept his eyes on the street. They stood in the shadow of a wall, waiting for a signal from a pointy-nosed snake.

Eliza smiled to herself at being called clever. All the same, she said, “It would be the chivalric thing to do, not to let a lady endanger herself.”

Silas snorted. “My other option was to get you involved in a fight. How is that more chivalric? Besides, I’m not a knight, and I’m not a lord. I’m just an academic.”

For a moment, Eliza was struck by that statement and all its implications—I’m not a knight. Henry and Silas could not be more different.

She slid her hand into her pocket, finding it unnervingly empty.

If she hadn’t left them at the university, there should have been two items. One, the sonnet book with a pressed snowdrop flower inside.

The essence of romance. The other, a square of leather-backed snakeskin that made her squirm to touch but protected her from sunburns.

Silas had seen a need and addressed it. It was compassionate and thoughtful, just not in a romantic way.

Henry never would have allowed her to be arrested. Silas was going to prison right next to her. Which did she prefer, the romantic protector or the companion in adventure?

She shook her head fiercely, banishing the comparison, because it had no business existing in the first place. Henry was the clear champion in all things. She’d crossed an ocean for him.

And today, she was going to find him.

“Kuveti coming,” said Silas.

Eliza tensed. She shouldn’t have to do much of anything, really, except not run. A harder impulse to resist than she’d imagined.

Even in the shade, she was sweating. The humid air weighed on her skin, and the chaotic noise of the city buzzed in her ears. She strained to see the veiled guards on the street but couldn’t spot them yet.

Silas stepped closer, and his hand brushed her shoulder lightly, spreading a shiver down her arm beneath the fabric. “Drop the wide-eyed stare, Highness. Pretend you don’t notice them coming.”

“How exactly am I supposed to do that? It’s all I can think about.” Nevertheless, she fixed her gaze on his, trying to ignore the pounding anticipation of her heart.

“I’d recommend a distraction. What’s your favorite topic to discuss?”

“Music.”

“Of course you’d choose the one area I’m not knowledgeable in.”

“That’s not true—you’re also unskilled in sailing, or so I’ve been told. Otherwise you would have already sailed me home.” They shared a brief smile, and then Eliza furrowed her brow. “Do snakes carry an aversion to water?”

“Once again, I’m not actually a snake. We share some attributes through a magical bond, that’s all. And as a matter of fact, snakes enjoy water more than I do. Some even live in it.”

Eliza scoffed. “‘Some attributes, that’s all.’ You can transform into a snake. You have venom. You . . . you can even talk to them!”

“Nothing as entertaining as this conversation.” Silas smirked. “I can give commands, if I’m strong enough, and they give impressions in return. It’s magic and sensory input, not rational thought and language. Though I do sometimes use language to direct my own focus. I find it helps.”

His smirk was contagious, but Eliza resisted. Instead, she eyed him, making a show of squinting. “What other abilities do you have, Snake Affiliate? Is your skin going to peel off without warning? Do you leave Silas husks behind?”

As she’d hoped, he laughed. He had a higher-pitched laugh than his voice, and it was always short, like it could only be startled out of him. It was delightful.

“No,” he said. “No, my skin doesn’t . . . In fact, even as a viper, I can’t shed. Kerem has done extensive experimentation, and even when he remained in snake form for months, he couldn’t shed. We don’t grow or sustain damage the same way as natural snakes.”

There was a small—very small—part of her that wondered what it would feel like to be something else entirely. To be full of magic that wasn’t a curse.

She smiled. “Do you stick your tongue out all the time? Do you like warm rocks?”

“Who doesn’t like warm rocks?” Silas stuck his tongue out at her.

It was Eliza’s turn for a laugh, and in return, Silas grinned. She was always surprised to see that the venomous snake had a fun, playful side.

He could be charming sometimes. Perhaps more often than she’d like to admit.

A shout went up nearby, and Eliza jumped. Silas tensed, but he kept his eyes on hers and gave a subtle nod. Neither of them ran as a set of kuveti guards rushed in to surround them. It had only been a pair grabbing Eliza the first time, but this time, there were six guards. Her panic spiked.

Silas brushed her shoulder again gently, and then he turned his attention to the kuveti, shouting at them in Pravish.

He took a swing at the closest guard, who caught his arm and declared the arrest for both of them.

Eliza was designated, once again, as the “missing island princess.” It was humbling to realize that Pravusat didn’t think of her home country as anything more than an insignificant island.

She could only hope the promise of a royal ransom would keep them from thinking of her as insignificant too. Otherwise, she didn’t look forward to what awaited her in prison.