Dreamsnake

Kev scowled in embarrassment.

“We do know better,” Jean said. “It’s just all this time out here away from people.”

“Snake is coming back,” Arevin said, his voice a little strained with excitement and joy. “You saw her. How long ago?”

“Yesterday,” Kev said. “But she isn’t coming this way.”

“She’s going south,” Jean said.

“South!”

Jean nodded. “We were up here getting the herd before it snows. We met her when we came down from high pasture. She bought one of the pack horses for the crazy to ride.”

“But why is she with the crazy? He attacked her! Are you sure he was not forcing her to go with him?”

Jean laughed. “No, Snake was in control. No doubt about that.”

Arevin did not doubt her, so he could put aside the worst of his fear. But he was still uneasy. “South,” he said. “What lies south of here? I thought there were no towns.”

“There aren’t. We come about as far as anybody. We were surprised to see her. Hardly anybody uses that pass, even coming from the city. But she didn’t say where she was going.”

“Nobody ever goes farther south than we do,” Kev said. “It’s dangerous.”

“In what way?”

Kev shrugged.

“Are you going after her?” Jean asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. But it’s time to make camp. Do you want to stop with us?”

Arevin glanced past them, southward. In truth, the mountain shadows were passing over the glade, and twilight closed in toward him.

“You can’t get much farther tonight, that’s true,” Kev said.

“And this is the best place to camp in half a day’s ride.”

Arevin sighed. “All right,” he said. “Thank you. I will camp here tonight.”

Arevin welcomed the warmth of the fire that crackled in the center of camp. The fragrant burning wood snapped sparks. The mountain deer were a dim moving shadow in the center of the meadow, completely silent, but the horses stamped their hooves now and then; they grazed noisily, tearing the tender grass blades with their teeth. Kev had already rolled himself up in his blankets; he snored softly at the edge of the firelight. Jean sat across from Arevin, hugging her knees to her chest, the firelight red on her face. She yawned.

“I guess I’ll go to sleep,” she said. “You?”

“Yes. In a moment.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked.

Arevin glanced up. “You’ve already done a great deal,” he said.

She looked at him curiously. “That isn’t exactly what I meant.”

The tone of her voice was not quite annoyance; it was milder than that, but enough changed that Arevin knew something was wrong.

“I don’t understand what you do mean.”

“How do your people say it? I find you attractive. I’m asking if you’d like to share a bed with me tonight.”

Arevin looked at Jean impassively, but he was embarrassed. He thought — he hoped — he was not blushing. Both Thad and Larril had asked him the same question, and he had not understood it. He had refused them offhandedly, and they must have thought him discourteous at best. Arevin hoped they had realized that he did not understand them, that his customs were different.

“I’m healthy, if you’re worried,” Jean said with some asperity. “And my control is excellent.”

“I beg your pardon,” Arevin said. “I did not understand you at all. I’m honored by your invitation and I did not doubt your health or your control. Nor would you need to doubt me. But if I will not offend you I must say no.”

“Never mind,” Jean said. “It was just a thought.”

Arevin could tell she was hurt. Having so abruptly and unwittingly turned down Thad and Larril, Arevin felt he owed Jean, at least, some explanation. He was not sure how to explain his feelings, for he was not sure he understood them himself.

“I find you very attractive,” Arevin said. “I would not have you misunderstand me. Sharing with you would not be fair. My attention would be… elsewhere.”

Jean looked at him through the heat waves of the fire. “I can wake Kev up if you like.”

Arevin shook his head. “Thank you. But I meant my attention would be elsewhere than this camp.”

“Oh,” she said with sudden comprehension. “I see now. I don’t blame you. I hope you find her soon.”

“I hope I have not offended you.”

“It’s okay,” Jean said, a little wistfully. “I don’t suppose it’d make any difference if I told you I’m not looking for anything permanent? Or even anything beyond tonight?”

“No,” Arevin said. “I’m sorry. It’s still the same.”

“Okay.” She picked up her blanket and moved to the edge of the firelight. “Sleep well.”

Later, lying in his bedroll, the blankets not quite keeping off the chill, Arevin reflected on how pleasant and warm it would be to be lying next to another person. He had casually coupled with people in his and neighboring clans all his life, but until he met Snake he had found no one he thought he might be able to partner with. Since meeting her he had felt no desire for anyone else; what was even stranger, he had not noticed that he was not attracted to anyone else. He lay on the hard ground, thinking about all that, and trying to remind himself that he had no evidence but one brief touch, and a few ambiguous words, that Snake felt any more than casually attracted to him. Yet he could hope.

For a long time Snake did not move; in fact, she did not think she could move. She kept expecting dawn to come, but night remained. Perhaps North’s people had covered the crevasse to keep it in the dark, but Snake knew that was ridiculous, if only because North would want to be able to see her and laugh at her.

As she was considering darkness, light glimmered above her. She looked up, but everything was blurs and shadows and strange noises that grew louder. Ropes and wood scraped against the crevasse wall and Snake wondered what other poor cripple had found North’s refuge, and then, as a platform sank smoothly toward her, lowered on pulleys, she saw North himself descending. She could not hold Melissa tighter, or hide her from him, or even stand up and fight for her. North’s lights illuminated the crevasse and Snake was dazzled.

He stepped from his platform as the pulley ropes drooped down to its corners. Two of his followers flanked him, carrying lanterns. Two sets of shadows flowed and rippled on the walls.

When North came close enough, the light enveloped both of them and Snake could see his face. He smiled at her.

“My dreamsnakes like you,” he said, nodding toward her feet where the serpents coiled around her legs, halfway to her knees. “But you mustn’t be so selfish about them.”

“Melissa doesn’t want them,” Snake said.

“I must say,” he said, “I hardly expected you to be so lucid.”

“I’m a healer.”

North frowned a little, hesitating. “Ah. I see. Yes, I should have thought of that. You would have to be resistant, would you not.” He nodded to his people and they put down their lanterns and came toward Snake. The light illuminated North’s face from below, shadowing his paper-white skin with strange black shapes. Snake shrank away from his people, but the rock was at her back; she had nowhere to go. The followers walked gently among the jagged stones and the dreamsnakes. Unlike Snake they were heavily shod. One reached out to take Melissa from her. Snake felt the serpents uncoiling from her ankles, and heard them slide across the rock.

“Stay away!” Snake cried, but an emaciated hand tried to ease Melissa from her arms. Snake lunged down and bit. It was the only thing she could think of to do. She felt the cold flesh yield between her teeth until she met bone; she tasted the warm blood. She wished she had sharper teeth, sharp teeth with channels for poison. As it was, all she could do was hope the wound became infected.

North’s follower pulled back with a yelp, tearing his hand away, and Snake spat out his blood. There was a flurry of motion as North and the others grabbed her by the hair and by her arm and by her clothes and held her while they took Melissa away from her. North twined his long fingers in her hair, holding her head back against the wall so she could not bite again. They forced her out of the narrow end of the crevasse. Fighting them, she staggered to her feet as one of the followers turned toward the platform with Melissa. North jerked her hair again and pulled her backward. Her knees collapsed. She tried to get up but she had nothing left to fight with, no more strength to overcome exhaustion and injury. Her left hand around her right shoulder, blood trickling between her fingers, she sagged to the ground.

North let go of Snake’s hair and went to Melissa, looking at her eyes and feeling her pulse. He glanced back at Snake.

“I told you not to keep her from my creatures.”

Snake raised her head. “Why are you trying to kill her?”

“Kill her! I? You don’t know a tenth what you think you know. You’re the one who’s endangered her.” He left Melissa and came back to Snake, bending down to capture several serpents. He put them in a basket, holding them carefully so they could not bite.

“I’ll have to take her out of here to save her life. She’ll hate you for ruining her first experience. You healers flaunt your arrogance.”

Snake wondered if he was right about arrogance; if he was, then perhaps he was right, too, about Melissa, about everything. She could not think properly to argue with him. “Be kind to her,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry,” North said. “She’ll be happy with me.” He nodded to his two followers. As they came toward Snake she tried to rise and prepare herself for one last defense. She was on one knee when the man she had bitten grabbed her by the right arm and pulled her to her feet, wrenching her shoulder again. The second follower held her up from the other side.

North leaned over her, holding a dreamsnake. “How certain are you of your immunities, healer? Are you arrogant about them, too?”