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Suddenly her gaping gills sensed cleaner water.

Cautiously she unlidded her eyes. She opened her mouth wide, flushing out her gills.

The act made her more susceptible to the mixed poisons in the water.

She tasted the faint echo of Maulkin’s once-powerful toxins, and the less disciplined acids of Sessurea.

The green had released toxins, too. They were thick and strong, but formulated mostly for the stunning of fish.

Unpleasant as they were, they did not confound her.

Her gaze met Sessurea’s whirling glance.

He gave a final shake of his mane and the feebly struggling green grew limp.

Maulkin managed to lift his head. ‘Gently, gently,’ he cautioned them. ‘As we fought, he spoke to me. It was just curses at first, but then he demanded by what right I attacked him. I think he might still be awakened.’

Shreever did not have the strength to reply.

It took all her will to maintain a grip on the others as she and Sessurea strove to traverse the clouded bottom.

Sessurea spotted an upthrust of stone. It was awkward to manoeuvre them there and even harder to find secure grips that would hold them all.

Maulkin was no more helpful than a thick strand of kelp.

The green was senseless still. Once they had settled, Shreever could think of nothing but rest. She dared not relax, however.

They still cradled a stranger in their midst, one who might awaken violently.

Several of the other serpents had discovered them, also.

They hung back at a distance, eyeing them curiously.

Or hungrily, perhaps. With a shudder of revulsion, she wondered if that was their interest. If they had seen Maulkin’s tangle devouring the green, would they have pressed in to steal a portion? So she feared. She watched them warily.

Maulkin was exhausted. The terrible dun colour of his hide betrayed that.

But he did not give up. He massaged the green serpent with his coils, anointing him with the small drops of toxin he could muster.

‘Who are you?’ he kept demanding of the lax green serpent.

‘You were a minstrel once, and an excellent one. Once you had a memory that could hold thousands of melodies and the words of those songs. Reach for it. Tell me your name. Just your name.’

She wanted to tell him to stop wasting his strength, but could not summon the energy to do so.

It was obviously futile. It did not seem to her that the green serpent was even conscious.

She wondered how long Maulkin would insist on trying.

Did any of them have the reserves to do this now and still catch up with the provider tomorrow?

Maulkin’s actions might have cost them their last chance at survival.

‘Tellur,’ the green muttered. His gills fluttered a moment.

‘My name is Tellur.’ A rippling shudder ran the length of his body.

He suddenly twined his body about Maulkin’s and held tight as if a strong current threatened to sweep him away.

‘Tellur!’ he cried out. ‘Tellur. Tellur. I am Tellur.’ He lidded his eyes and lowered his head.

‘Tellur,’ he muttered quietly. He was exhausted.

Shreever tried to feel some sense of triumph.

Maulkin had reawakened this one. But for how long?

Would he help them in their quest, or simply become one more drain on their resources?

The watching ring of serpents had drawn closer.

Shreever felt Sessurea shift wearily and knew that he prepared himself for battle.

She lifted her own head and tried to shake out her mane.

Precious little venom answered. She attempted a baleful glare at the surrounding serpents.

They were not impressed. A massive cobalt, the largest of the other serpents, drew closer.

He was easily a third longer than Sessurea, and twice his bulk.

His maw gaped wide, tasting the water for toxins.

He suddenly threw back his head and brought his own mane to a full bristle.

‘Kelaro!’ he bellowed. ‘I am Kelaro!’ His jaws worked hungrily, gulping in the diluted toxins and pumping them over his gills.

‘I remember,’ he proclaimed. ‘I am Kelaro!’ At his bellow, some of the others retreated like startled fish.

Others ignored his outburst. He turned his head to regard a much-scarred red in the group.

‘And you are Sylic. My friend Sylic. Once we were part of Xecres’ tangle.

Xecres. What became of Xecres? Where is the rest of our tangle ?

’ He advanced almost angrily on the scarred scarlet serpent who continued to regard him with wide empty eyes. ‘Sylic. Where is Xecres?’

Sylic’s blank stare roused his fury. The great blue suddenly wrapped his companion, squeezing him as if he were a whale to be drowned and devoured.

His own ruff stood out full and poisonous.

Toxins trailed in a cloud about them as they struggled.

‘Where is Xecres, Sylic?’ he demanded. When the scarlet serpent only struggled the harder, he squeezed him tighter.

‘Sylic! Say your own name. Say, “I am Sylic!” Say it now!’

‘He’s going to kill him,’ Sessurea warned them in a low, horrified voice.

‘Stay out of it,’ Maulkin rumbled low. ‘Let it happen, Sessurea. For if he cannot awaken Sylic, then he is better off dead. We all are.’

The resignation in his voice was chilling. Shreever turned her head to look at him but Maulkin avoided her stare. He looked instead at the slumbering green in the midst of their tangle. She heard a new voice behind them, shrill and breathless.

‘Sylic,’ it conceded. ‘My name is Sylic.’ The red struggled feebly. Kelaro loosed his coils but did not release him.

‘What has become of Xecres?’

‘I don’t know.’ The edges of Sylic’s words were blurred, as if speech were an effort.

His statements came slowly, as if he struggled to link words with thoughts.

‘He forgot himself. One morning we awoke to find him gone. He abandoned his tangle. Soon after, the others began to forget themselves.’ He shook his head angrily, a cloud of toxins spilling from his own ragged mane.

‘I am Sylic!’ he repeated bitterly. ‘Sylic the friendless. Sylic of no tangle.’

‘Sylic of Maulkin’s tangle. Kelaro of Maulkin’s tangle. If you wish.’

Maulkin’s voice had regained some of its lost timbre.

His false-eyes even gleamed gold briefly.

Kelaro and Sylic regarded him in silence briefly.

Then Kelaro advanced on them, Sylic still casually wrapped in his grasp.

His eyes were huge and baleful. They spun blackly with hints of silver in their depths as he regarded the battered tangle he had been invited to join.

Then he gravely bowed his great maned head.

‘Maulkin.’ He acknowledged him. He lapped a coil of himself about their anchoring rock and drew his friend in close to them. Carefully, lest he give offence, he intertwined with Sessurea, Shreever, and Maulkin. ‘Kelaro of Maulkin’s tangle greets you all.’

‘Sylic of Maulkin’s tangle,’ echoed the battered scarlet serpent.

As they wearily settled themselves for rest, Sessurea observed, ‘We cannot sleep too long if we intend to catch up with the provider.’

‘We can sleep until we are ready to travel,’ Maulkin corrected him.

‘We have finished with providers. From now on, we hunt as befits serpents. A strong tangle need depend on no one’s largesse.

When we do not hunt food, we hunt for One Who Remembers.

We have been given a final chance. We must not squander it. ’