Page 36 of King of Serpents

Wiping her sweaty palms on the very worn remnants of her jumpsuit, Alex crept down the unfamiliar, alien hall, her skin prickling anxiously. She was pretty sure she heard it—whatever it was—move in that direction. Brushing a large clump of trailing flowers out of her way, she ventured deeper, her ears straining for any hint of sound beyond the whisper of shifting leaves and flower petals beneath her hand. Although the water sounded louder in this direction, she didn’t hear any sound of splashing no matter how much she strained to listen.

The shift of the flowers, of course, had an eerie effect. They created moving shadows within their bright illumination, and for a moment, she imagined that something was there, watching her within those shadows. Her steps slowed as one of the shadows took the vague form of a face, and she swore that she saw glowing eyes piercing her out of the shroud of blooms. She forced herself to continue toward it, her heart hammering in her chest. Rather than becoming more indistinct as she got closer, the shape of the face seemed to be more defined as it pressed against the leaves and blooms. Studying her approach. It didn’t move, but it seemed to lurk there as if ready to pounce on her.

Coming to a stop just in front of it, Alex’s hand trembled as she reached for the thick patch of flowers. Without allowing her a moment to second-guess herself, she tore them away and drew in a sharp breath at the sight of the carved face staring back at her. The expression on the face was forbidding. It had the appearance of a male glowering angrily at her with a bearing of some importance.

She let out a sharp, brittle laugh.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “More stonework. The artistry in this place is going to be the death of me.”

“Or your lack of awareness,” a voice replied drolly from behind her.

Alex yelped and nearly tripped over her own feet as she spun around to face the female frowning back at her. Although the features were similar, it wasn’t Kitanara. This female’s features were broader. But it wasn’t the larger, bossy one either... Jathella. Her lips pursed as she tried to recall the name of the third sister. She had only met her briefly and—

The female huffed in annoyance as she drew back on the coiled length of her tail, her wings adjusting behind her with the movement. “Buosoa,” she said, correctly guessing the direction of Alex’s thoughts.

Alex gave her a faint, apologetic smile. “Right. Buosoa. I didn’t hear you.”

The female studied her with a pained look. “That much is clear. Your mind appeared focused elsewhere. I do not know what your home-world is like, but that can be very dangerous on Seshana. You must take it seriously if you wish to survive.”

“Right,” Alex mumbled again as she looked at the carved face that now appeared to bear a trace of mockery in the light of the galthie blooms. Surviving did seem to be the issue when everything on the planet seemed determined to kill her.

Chapter 26

Therxian glanced at Jathella as he accompanied her down in the direction of the royal throne chamber for the court, but his eyes drifted irresistibly toward the concealed tunnel. Jathella, noting the direction of his attention, slapped him lightly with one wing to regain his attention.

“I sent Buosoa to accompany the human. There is no reason to worry.”

He grimaced. Buosoa was reliable but also the least approachable of the sisters as far as he had noticed.

“Kitanara would have been a better choice,” he muttered, forcing his gaze away before someone else noticed his straying attention.

“Buosoa was available,” Jathella returned, as she pointedly ignored him to study the corridor. A thought seemed to occur to her, and her head turned toward him so that she could scrutinize him. “Why do you demonstrate such care and interest, Therxian? Are you allowing yourself to be distracted from your purpose here?”

Therxian bristled at the implication, his gavo raising slightly with hostility before he was able to quell the response. He flattened his gavo and adopted a cool expression as he returned her regard. “Do not speak so rashly.”

Jathella’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced. “Do not forget why you are here. Or has it changed? Are you planning on doing as Slengral did and abandon the shinara to nest with a human among the Vehal in the Vir?”

Her accusation cut him to the quick. Though there was no venom in her voice and only mild curiosity, the expectation made him inexplicably uncomfortable. His gavo twitched in response.

“I will not lie and say that this idea does not appeal to me,” he replied honestly, his tone gruff as he redirected his attention to some undefined spot ahead of them so that he would not have to meet the judgement in her eyes. “But I will not. There is no one left to take my place presently. In the end, the matters here are my burden to deal with.”

The female hummed quietly in agreement, her gavo rippling faintly. “It is strange, is it not? No more than a single female born to inherit the rule—and one born sickly, at that—but of every male born offspring, that number nearly a dozen hatchings. Yet the whereabouts of only two are known to us.”

He did not reply, but that was a subject that frequently occupied his mind. Never was there an issue of too few females born. With the exception of his mother, who had only one younger sister, most generations had upward of three females born to the royal line. And the disappearance of his brothers equally concerned him, though he had not thought of them at all in many revolutions. He had hoped that they had escaped the Aglatha and were living happily and free. But now he was not so certain. As the days passed, during his seclusion and under the scrutiny of the matriarchs, unsettling thoughts frequently crept up on him, though he had not dared to share them with another.

Thoughts that he could not even share with his mother because the queen matriarch was never alone. There was always a female from the court of noble matriarchs in her company, and numerous members of staff surrounded her at all times like a swarm of barlisks covering their queen. It made him even more suspicious of the level of influence the court had over his mother’s decisions, including the personal ones involving her own offspring.

Did she even know the fate of her own sons?

The question whispered insidiously through his mind, sending a shiver through him. There was no knowing how much his mother was aware of, or how much she was manipulated while the noble matriarchs plotted. How else could so many royal males disappear without a trace or record as to their fate?

“How long has my location in the Vir been known?” he quietly asked.

Jathella gave him a sidelong look and was silent for a long moment before answering. “From the beginning,” she said quietly. She sighed and fluttered her gavo wearily. “It was before my time, clearly, but my mother held my current position in the palace, and I recall hearing her speak with my father about it in low voices. She was assigned to track you and bring you back to the palace, but...”

“But she did not,” he finished, masking his own surprise with the flat statement.

If Nyrana had been sent to track him, she had clearly fulfilled the first part of her assignment if his mother had been informed, but why had she not returned with him as ordered? Was there another who had also been sent after him? From what he recalled of the female, Nyrana would have only failed in her duty if doing so meant protecting her charge.