Venom in Her Veins

opened the case, revealing a delicate recurve bow made of carefully bent bone and wood and horn. “The bow, I’m told, is made of wood from a tree that grows only in places where the Shadowfell touches the mortal plane, and the bones of a phase beast, and exotic sinews, and other things. It is imbued with old magics. I saw it loosed often in battle, Zaltys, and the arrows that flew from this bow seemed to take no notice of obstacles, flickering to pass through walls and pillars and the trunks of trees, and though the arrows did not always strike their targets, they did strike targets that no other arrow could have reached. Indeed, in one pitched battle when the archer ran out of arrows, I saw him shoot a spear, a short sword, and a fireplace poker from this bow, and they all flew as straight as arrows would. It’s an extraordinary weapon, and wasted in my clumsy hands. But you are worthy of this bow, and I give this to you.” He inclined his head, closed the bow case, and handed it over.

Zaltys stared at the case. She had very fine weapons, made by master craftsmen, but a magic bow …

“My gift is a good match for that weapon,” Quelamia said. “Though you may thank yourself, to some extent, Zaltys.” She lifted up a pannier from the ground by her chair and opened it, drawing out a set of deep gray-black leather armor.

“Is that made from the skin of the shadow snake?” Julen blurted.

“It is,” Quelamia said. “I had thought, at first, to make you armor enchanted with the magic of the Feywild, but when I was given this skin, and told you had slain it yourself, it seemed appropriate. I am not knowledgeable about Shadow Magic, but I know this armor will fit you beautifully, and should enable you to slip through shadows as the serpent itself once did, and to vanish from sight in the shade, and blows that strike this armor may sometimes fail to land on you at all, passing harmlessly through shadow.”

Zaltys had been wearing her newest set of supple hunting leathers for over a year, and they had come to seem almost like a second skin, but she would give them up in an instant for something as beautiful as this shadow armor-though she felt some twinge at the thought of wearing the flesh of a serpent that had once spoken in her mind. But wasn’t it almost a way of honoring the snake, of making its death meaningful? “Quelamia … I am honored.”

“Yes,” Quelamia said serenely, and then departed, apparently finished with the party once her part was done.

“I want to give you this knife,” Julen said, offering her one of his throwing daggers, hilt-first. It was a beautiful weapon, impeccably balanced, with a jewel at the base of the hilt and a blade that was treated so that it didn’t reflect even a glimmer of light, and would fly through the night invisibly. “It’s not magical or anything. If I had a magical dagger, no offense, I’d keep it for myself.”

Zaltys laughed and gave him a hug, then looked at Alaia. Her mother raised one eyebrow. “Are you wondering about my gift? Well, it is both a gift, and a burden. You are no longer a child, and so, I have an adult responsibility for you: I am making you head of the rangers and the scouts for the Travelers. You will organize their schedules and direct their actions.”

Zaltys stared, then practically leaped into her mother’s arms, squeezing her tightly. “Does this mean no more guards shadowing me everywhere?”

“Not unless you assign them yourself,” Krailash said. “Your mother talked it over with me, and I have no objection. You know this terrain as well as the best scouts we have-better than I do myself, truthfully. Technically you will report to me, as I remain head of security, but in practice, I will let you run things to your liking. Come by my trailer in the morning and I’ll show you how the rotation has been set up, and I can answer any questions you might have.”

Alaia patted Zaltys’s back and stepped out of the embrace. She’d never been terribly comfortable with physical affection. “Do well with this position, Zaltys, and you will go a long way toward proving yourself worthy of leading the Travelers and sitting in on the family’s high councils.”

“Lucky you,” Glory said. “Your mother’s gift is more work, and that makes you happy. I’ll never understand your family.”

Zaltys stuck out her tongue at the tiefling, then took her mother’s hand in her own. “I will not disappoint you, Alaia Serrat,” she said formally.

Her mother kissed her cheek. “I know, darling. Now, run along with your cousin-I’m sure you’d like to try out your new weapons and make him jealous.”

“It’s all right,” Julen said. “I’ve been promised father’s third-best sword when I come of age.” He sighed. “You’re lucky to be an only child, Zaltys.” He walked out of the circle of torchlight, talking to Glory in a low voice.

Before Zaltys could leave, Alaia touched her arm, and drew in close. “Celebrate tonight, my daughter. But tomorrow, come and sit with me. There are some things you should know. Things it’s time you learned. That you deserve to know.”

“Family secrets?” Zaltys said, smiling.

“Something like that,” Alaia said.

After dressing in her new armor and slipping on her new ring-its blue glow was hidden by some properties of the shadowy armor-Zaltys strung her new bow by the archery butts Krailash had set up to keep the troops in practice. In truth, despite her boasting to Julen, the jungle was rough going for archers, since the trees were so dense and provided so many obstacles to a clear shot. But Zaltys had always turned that to her advantage, firing from concealment and from high in the branches of trees, excelling as a sniper and secret hunter. With her new armor and the bow, it almost felt unfair for her to have such advantages.

But she knew temple guardian apes and shambling mounds wouldn’t hesitate to use any advantage they could get over her, so why should she feel guilty?

Julen watched her try out her new bow, clapping and making appreciative noises as she tested its capabilities on the straw targets. Night was falling, though, and archery was less enjoyable by torchlight, especially for spectators, so she acceded to Julen’s suggestion that they sit and talk awhile.

They walked to the far northern edge of camp, just outside the perimeter of carts but well inside the shifting protective fence of guards out in the woods. They sat on a couple of mossy boulders, and Julen grinned. “Look what I have.” He drew a small bottle of wine from a bag, along with a pair of wooden cups.

“Did you steal that?” He was doubtless trained in a dozen forms of larceny, and it was a nice gesture, but pillaging caravan supplies was a bad idea.

“No, it was a gift from, ah …” he frowned. “Someone. She said a woman with all your responsibilities should be able to drink all the unwatered wine she wants, and that we should celebrate your new position. I wish I could remember who it was.”

“It’s okay, I think I know.” Zaltys took the bottle, uncorked it, and sniffed, flickering out her tongue as she did so. The liquid inside had a hint of spiciness, and she knew, even in the dimness, that it would be bright red, some of Glory’s tiefling fire-wine. Something best drunk in moderation, no doubt, but a nice gesture nonetheless. And Glory was right-Zaltys should celebrate. The work began tomorrow, but until then, it was the pure pleasure of achieving one of her dreams.

Zaltys poured her cousin a cup and then one for herself, and after their initial gasps at the strength of the wine, they sipped in eye-watering silence for a while. Finally Julen said, “I’m sorry my gift wasn’t as good as the others.”

She waved her hand. “Don’t be silly, Cousin. It was very generous and thoughtful of you, and it’s appreciated. I’ll be sure to send you something when you come of age in a couple of years.” He leaned back on a log. “So. Heir to the Travelers. The backbone of the family fortune, at least, according to the Travelers, though it’s funny, the Guardians say the same thing, and I bet the Traders do too. Still, that’s got to be a weight on your shoulders.”

“It’s what I’ve been training for my entire life,” she said seriously. “I learned how to supply a caravan before I learned to read. I was taught how to scout the jungle and lay false trails before I was taught multiplication. It will be an honor to serve my family.”

“Easy for the heir apparent to say.” Julen took a sip of wine and coughed, eyes watering, then grinned. “I’m so far down in the pecking order sometimes I think my father’s forgotten my name. Oh, they’ve taught me all sorts of things-lockpicking, poisoning, how to tell if someone’s lying, how to creep around. But no one’s grooming me for leadership.”