Venom in Her Veins

mercy and salvation. Whatever possessed you to do that?” There was genuine interest in her voice, but also amusement, and-Zaltys was almost sure-something like contempt. She didn’t know how to respond.

Julen cleared his throat. “The people that adopted Zaltys … We Serrats hold family sacred. We grow up knowing that nothing’s more important than standing by your kin. We have our feuds, and our rivalries, and I have aunts and uncles who haven’t spoken to each other in years over slights no one can even remember, but those uncles would kill or die to defend those aunts from outside threats, and vice versa. We have a saying in the Guardians: Trust nothing, save for family.” He shrugged. “Zaltys just … carried the idea a bit farther than most of us do. If family is all-important, and some of her family is trapped underground, then she had to go and save them.”

“Extraordinary,” Iraska said. “I mean that.”

“But if you’re the leader of the derro,” Zaltys said, “then it doesn’t make sense that my village was taken as slaves by the derro, because it’s your village too. Or were you not leader then? Were you taken by the derro as well, and somehow became leader later? Does that mean my family is all right? Do they live down here with you?”

“As a theory,” Iraska said, “it has much to recommend it, not least of all the prospect of a bona fide happy ending. Alas, the virtues of your premise do not extend to accuracy.”

“Do you mean they all died,” Zaltys said, “or-”

Iraska held up her hand for silence. “Let me explain the best way I know how. It may be a trifle roundabout. I ask you to bear with me. Have you ever heard the parable of the turtle and the serpent?”

“I don’t think so,” Zaltys said.

“That’s a shame. I shudder to think what you learned from the apes who raised you. Creatures who huddle together for warmth, suck milk from one another’s bodies …” She turned her head and spat. “This is a story everyone in your real family learned when they were children. A useful story. One day a turtle came down to a river, planning to swim across and go about his turtleish business. Now it so happened that a snake was sunning itself by the riverbank, and it too, wanted to get across the river, but it didn’t know how to swim. Because it was not a water snake, but instead the sort of snake that twines itself around tree branches. So it said to the turtle, ‘You and I are much the same-indeed, we’re practically cousins. Both reptiles, both cold-blooded. Why, if I had a shell and arms and legs, you and I would be almost indistinguishable in poor light. Could you do me a favor, out of family courtesy, and give me a ride across the river?’

“The turtle considered running away, for it knew snakes of this sort were lethal, but it was slow, and the snake was fast, and it was afraid if it ran it would be caught, so it said, ‘I am a kindly creature, and disposed to help others, but your reputation is fearsome. How do I know that, if I let you coil upon my shell, you won’t strike me dead as I’m swimming?’

“ ‘Simple self-preservation,’ the serpent replied. ‘If I kill you while you’re swimming, we’ll both die, you by biting, me by drowning.’

“ ‘Fair enough,’ the turtle said. ‘But what if you kill me when I get you to the other side?’

“ ‘I’m not without gratitude,’ the snake replied. ‘I would owe you a kindness in return for your help. And anyway, your blood is cold, and I don’t eat reptiles for preference, and why would I kill you, except to eat you?’

“In truth the turtle was not greatly reassured, but the serpent seemed sincere, and running wasn’t an option, so the turtle agreed, and the snake coiled up on his shell, which was almost as good as sunning on a rock, really. The turtle plunged into the water and began its slow swim across the river. When they reached the other side, the turtle said, ‘Well, here we are.’ And then the snake rather lazily bent down, nuzzled the exposed bit of the turtle’s neck, and bit down with its fangs, pumping poison into the little reptile. The paralysis set in almost immediately, and the turtle went still as the snake slithered off its shell. Just before it died, the turtle cried out, ‘Why? Why bite me? I helped you!’ And the snake just replied, ‘I had no choice. I can’t help my nature.’ ” Iraska beamed at them like a schoolteacher imparting wisdom to her brightest students.

“I have heard that one,” Julen said, looking down into the contents of his cup. “But it was a frog and a spider in the version I was told. And the spider bit the frog halfway across the river, and they both died. I’m not sure I understand the point of it, the way you told it.”

Iraska ignored him, looking at Zaltys. “But I find myself wondering-what if the snake had been raised among turtles? Dressed in a shell made of wood, perhaps, with false legs glued on, so it could pass for a turtle? So it could come to believe it was a turtle? Would its nature be changed by its upbringing, or would its true poisonous essence make itself known on the first river crossing? Would it just thank the stupid useless weak turtle and let it go on its way?”

“I don’t feel well,” Julen said, swaying, one hand touching his forehead.

“I should hope not,” Iraska said. “The poison in the water should be having some effect by now. It doesn’t actually kill you-it brings on a sort of half-death in which you’ll be very susceptible to suggestion, which makes it perfect for mushroom-gathering slaves. Not so good for soldiers. We can’t even use drugged slaves as forlorn hopes-that’s what you call soldiers sacrificed to break through an enemy’s defense-because they move too slowly. Useful stuff, and so much crueler, and thus more satisfying, than simple death.”

“You poisoned him?” Zaltys said, as Julen groaned and sank to the floor, pitching over onto the stones. “But-why would you do that?”

“It’s my nature,” Iraska said, and showed her terrible fangs.

Chapter Twenty

There’s something about those lights,” Alaia murmured, gazing at the floating clouds of blue-green haze. “They’re unnatural. Just looking at them makes my teeth ache. I think they’re points of access to the Far Realm.” She shuddered. “Birth canals for aberrations. What are these creatures doing down here?”

“Foul derro magic,” Krailash said. “The sooner we can find Zaltys and Julen and get away from the creatures, the happier I’ll be. I thought yuan-ti were the most vile creatures in this jungle or below it, but the derro are changing my mind. We might petition the Guardians to send a substantial force to wipe out these creatures. I think we can convincingly argue they’re a threat to the caravan.”

Alaia nodded. “True, though the losses would be significant … We can always hire mercenaries. The other heads of the family would curse the expense, but I don’t see how I can let this go on. Whatever else I may be, I am still a shaman, and the Far Realm poisons everything. If I tell them the derro experiments could harm the terazul blossoms, they’ll come around. Let’s focus on the current situation, though.”

“We should avoid the main settlement,” Krailash whispered, peeking out from the inadequate concealment of a rock not far from the fungus fields and their plodding laborers. “I doubt they’d keep slaves there anyway-too smelly. More likely they’d keep them close to the place where they need to work, this mushroom forest.”

“Fair enough,” Alaia said. “But there’s the small matter of whip-wielding derro patrolling those fields, and for all we know, the slaves might call out for guards if they see us. Engaging in a fight this close to the heart of the derro city-if you can call that conglomeration of bone-covered mining buildings a city-seems unwise.”

“True. I don’t suppose you can create some concealment for us?”

Alaia sighed. “I couldn’t have hired a sneaking shadowy cutthroat for my head of security like the Guardians wanted, oh, no, I had to get a great unsubtle dragonborn clanking about in plate armor.”

Krailash grinned. If the stakes hadn’t been so high, he would have been enjoying himself. It was almost like adventuring again, and his blood sang with the thrill of old times restored. “I pick shifty cutthroats out of my teeth, though, so you made the right choice. Shall I just try to keep my clanking to a minimum, or do you know any tricks that can help us?”

Alaia chanted softly, and Krailash heard the words “spirit,” “moon,” and “shadow” in an old tongue, a moment before a curtain of glimmering lights and mist appeared, settling over them like dew upon morning flowers, and then vanishing from sight. “We are concealed,” Alaia whispered, “though only from sight, so try to keep quiet.”