preparations.
I shouldered my pack, threading my bow through its holder. “What about our prisoner?” I asked Moon Man.
“I will take care of him.”
“How?”
“You do not want to know.”
“Yes, I do. I want you to tell me everything!”
Moon Man sighed. “The Vermin were once a part of the Sandseed clan. They are our wayward kin, and they are infesting the rest of Sitia. How we deal with them is in accordance to our laws, and it is the proper way to take care of Vermin.”
“And that would be?”
“You exterminate them.”
A protest perched on my lips. What about those members who might have been misguided? But my question remained unvoiced. Now wasn’t the best time to argue crime and punishment.
Instead, I gazed at the tall trees, looking for a way up into the canopy, wishing I hadn’t left my grapple and rope in the cave. I found a long vine and used it to climb into the higher branches. After a moment to reorient myself—the Zaltana homestead was to the west—I swung over to the next tree.
I kept my magical senses tuned to the life around me, seeking the Daviians and other predators as I traveled toward home. The web of branches and crowded trees slowed my progress. After a few hours, my sweat-soaked clothes were ripped, and my skin burned and itched from innumerable cuts and insect bites.
Resting on the branch of a hawthorn tree, I scanned the area between me and Moon Man. There was no sign of any intelligent life so I linked my mind with Moon Man’s and Leif’s.
You will be safe to travel to this area, I said, picturing the small clearing below. Stay there until I contact you again.
They agreed.
After I rested, I pushed my way through the jungle’s canopy, staying alert to any sign of the Daviians. The rhythm of climbing from tree to tree combined with the steady pulse of the jungle’s undisturbed life force. When an out-of-tune presence plucked at my senses, my energies focused on the distant ripple. Engrossed, I concentrated on discovering the source. A man in the tree canopy. Before I could determine if he was friend or foe, my left hand grasped a smooth and pliant branch. Surprised, I jerked my awareness back and my mind connected with a hunter lurking in the trees.
The leaves rustled with movement. The terrifying rasp of a stirring snake surrounded me. The limb under my feet softened. I scrambled for a solid branch, and touched nothing but the snake’s dry coils. The necklace snake’s coloring blended with the jungle’s greenery so well that I couldn’t determine where the rest of it lay.
I closed my eyes and projected into the snake’s mind. It had looped part of its body between two branches, creating a flat net now closing around me. Pulling my switchblade from my pocket, I triggered the blade.
When the heavy coils of the snake dropped onto my shoulders, I knew I had mere seconds before the predator would wrap around my throat like a necklace and choke me to death. I sensed satisfaction from the snake as it moved to tighten its hold.
I stabbed my knife into the snake’s thick body. Would the Curare on the blade affect the creature? Mild pain from the thrust registered in the snake’s mind, but it considered the wound minor.
The snake contracted around me, trapping my legs and left arm. I realized the necklace snake held me aloft. If I cut through its coils, I would plummet to the ground.
Another loop brushed my face as the snake tried to encircle my neck. I pushed it away with my free arm. A coil slid up my back.
Deciding the odds of surviving a fall were better than dying by strangulation, I stabbed my blade in the nearest coil with the intention of sawing through it. Before I applied more pressure, the creature stopped.
Perhaps Curare had paralyzed the snake. I pulled the blade out and the snake resumed its tightening. The Curare hadn’t worked. But when I reinserted the knife, the creature paused. Odd. I must have found a vulnerable area. We were at an impasse.
Through my link with its mind, I sensed the snake’s hunger warring with its desire to live. I tried to control the predator’s will, but our minds were too incompatible. Even though I could feel its intentions, I couldn’t direct its movements.
I wanted to avoid killing the snake, but I could see no other way. Once dead, I should be able to cut my way back into the trees.
“Hello. Is someone in there?” a man’s voice asked.
My struggle with the snake had seized all my attention. Cursing myself for forgetting the man, I directed my mind into the tree canopy and encountered the well-protected thoughts of another magician. But Warper or Story Weaver, I couldn’t tell.
“Has the snake got your tongue?” He laughed at his own joke. “I know you’re there. I felt your power. If you don’t belong in the jungle, I’ll gladly let the snakes have you for dinner.”
“Snakes?” I asked. His speech patterns sounded familiar. Not Daviian. Not Sandseed. I hoped Zaltana.
“Your necklace snake has sent a call for help. You might kill this one and untangle yourself, but by then its kin will be here to finish the job.”
I scanned the jungle canopy and, sure enough, I felt five other snakes moving toward me.
“What if I do belong in the jungle?” I asked.
“Then I’ll help you. But you’d better make a strong case. Strange things have been happening lately.”
I thought fast. “I’m Yelena Liana Zaltana. Daughter of Esau and Perl and sister to Leif.”
“Common knowledge. You have to do better.”
Soul mate to Valek, the scourge of Sitia, I thought, but knew that wouldn’t help my case. I searched my mind for a bit of information only the Zaltanas knew. The problem was, since I had been raised in Ixia, I knew only a few things about my lost clan.
“I could send you on a wild-valmur chase, but wouldn’t it be easier if I gave you a piece of sap candy?” I held my breath, waiting.
Just when I was convinced I would have to cut my way out of the snake before its brothers arrived, a low drumbeat throbbed. More beats followed. The vibrations pulsed through the snake.
The snake relaxed. A gap appeared above my head and a green painted face smiled down at me.
He extended his hand, which was also camouflaged. “Grab on.”
I clasped his wrist. He pulled me from the snake’s net and onto a solid branch. Relief puddled in my knees and I had to sit down.
The man’s clothes matched the jungle’s colors and patterns. He placed a leather drum on the branch and played another song. The snake unraveled and disappeared into the jungle.
“That should hold them off for a while,” he said.
From his clothes and dyed-olive hair color, I knew the man had to be a Zaltana. I thanked him for helping me.
His answering nod reminded me of someone. “Who are you?” I asked.
“Your cousin, Chestnut. I was out on patrol when you were here the last time so I didn’t get a chance to meet you.”
After living in Ixia for fourteen years, I had finally returned to a home I hadn’t known existed. It had been such an emotional whirlwind, and I had met so many cousins, aunts and uncles it was unlikely I would have remembered him even if I had been introduced to him.
Seeing no sign of recognition on my face, he added, “I’m one of Nutty’s brothers.”
Nutty’s stories about her siblings had been humorous and I remembered a game I used to play with her against her brothers before my kidnapping.
“How did you control the snake?” I asked.
“I’m a snake charmer,” he said as if the title explained everything. But when I failed to respond, he said, “It’s part of my magic. The necklace snakes are very hard to spot. Not only do they blend in so well, but also they mask their life energy. Even if you’re able to sense the other jungle animals you probably wouldn’t feel the snakes. Not until it was too late.” He rubbed his hands together in appreciation. “They usually hunt alone, but if one gets into
