strike with a blade, so I’m sure I can manage this.”
“Good. Zaltys, you’ll keep him company?” And keep watch over him, was the unspoken portion, or so Zaltys assumed.
“Yes, Krai.”
“Excellent. See you both back at camp. Don’t linger—the parts will spoil if we don’t get them to Quelamia soon.”
Zaltys sat on the statue’s jutting snout and watched as Julen deftly cut into the serpent’s head, levering out its eyes. He dropped the orbs into a leather pouch and set that aside. The ice from her arrow was already melting, and the shaft fell to the ground, where Julen kicked it aside. “Don’t do that,” she said, letting some of her confusion emerge in the form of annoyance. “We don’t have an infinite supply of arrows out here.”
“Right, sorry.” Julen was intent on his work, pulling the serpent’s body free of the ice and stretching it out to its full length on the ground. “Didn’t think about it. It’s so strange, this creature doesn’t even bleed . Means I won’t need to change my shirt, at least, which is good, since I only brought three others, and you’ve reminded me thatI can’t just send my valet out to get more … barbaric.” He sawed off the snake’s head—Zaltys had to look away—then crouched and sliced neatly along the center of the snake’s belly from the base of the headless stump to the cloaca. He put the knife aside, grasped the snake’s skin in both hands, and pulled with gentle, even pressure, peeling its skin back in a single piece. Once the skin was pulled almost entirely free of the flesh underneath, he used the knife to cut through the last clinging shreds of fat and muscle, and held up the shadow snake’s skin. It was a large, single sheet of snakeskin, and it fluttered oddly, seeming to absorb light and fuzzily emit darkness. “Hate to roll this up, but I don’t see how we can carry it loose. Give me a hand?”
Zaltys nodded, trying not to let her reluctance show, and helped Julen roll up the snakeskin into a bundle small enough to carry. Once he had it in his arms, and the pouch of eyes and teeth at his belt, he said, “Okay. Keep me from getting eaten by tigers, because I don’t have a free hand.”
She led him back to camp, though she could hear the guards Krailash had left behind moving on either side in tandem with them. Zaltys and Julen had never been out of sight of their protectors, probably, but Krailash had shown an unusual level of discretion, for him, by leaving them hidden. Perhaps he didn’t want to embarrass Zaltys in front of her cousin. Zaltys knew she didn’t need baby-sitters, and Krailash had assured her often that he had full faith in her ability to take care of herself in the jungle—indeed, she’d taught some his men the ways of the wild over the years—but she was a principal heir of the Serrat family; Krailash wasn’t about to takechances with her safety. It chafed, but the one time she’d used her superior skills to give his guards the slip and go roaming the jungle on her own, Krailash had been so beside himself with worry that she’d felt more guilty than pleased with herself, and since then she’d limited herself to merely complaining.
Back in camp, dusk was falling, and it was nearly time for the first evening meal shift. Zaltys led Julen to Quelamia’s wagon and knocked on the trunk.
A tiny knothole opened into a round door, and the eladrin looked out. “Yes?”
“We brought you dead animal parts,” Julen said.
“How … thoughtful.”
“Skin of a shadow snake,” Zaltys said. “And some other bits. Krailash said you could use them?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, plucking the skin and the pouch from Julen’s hands. “I’m engaged in a little project, at your mother’s behest, Zaltys. I think you’ll enjoy the results.” Without another word, she sealed up the trunk of her tree.
Zaltys and Julen exchanged shrugs. “You never got that food,” she said. “Want to come eat with me? I
“Good. Zaltys, you’ll keep him company?” And keep watch over him, was the unspoken portion, or so Zaltys assumed.
“Yes, Krai.”
“Excellent. See you both back at camp. Don’t linger—the parts will spoil if we don’t get them to Quelamia soon.”
Zaltys sat on the statue’s jutting snout and watched as Julen deftly cut into the serpent’s head, levering out its eyes. He dropped the orbs into a leather pouch and set that aside. The ice from her arrow was already melting, and the shaft fell to the ground, where Julen kicked it aside. “Don’t do that,” she said, letting some of her confusion emerge in the form of annoyance. “We don’t have an infinite supply of arrows out here.”
“Right, sorry.” Julen was intent on his work, pulling the serpent’s body free of the ice and stretching it out to its full length on the ground. “Didn’t think about it. It’s so strange, this creature doesn’t even bleed . Means I won’t need to change my shirt, at least, which is good, since I only brought three others, and you’ve reminded me thatI can’t just send my valet out to get more … barbaric.” He sawed off the snake’s head—Zaltys had to look away—then crouched and sliced neatly along the center of the snake’s belly from the base of the headless stump to the cloaca. He put the knife aside, grasped the snake’s skin in both hands, and pulled with gentle, even pressure, peeling its skin back in a single piece. Once the skin was pulled almost entirely free of the flesh underneath, he used the knife to cut through the last clinging shreds of fat and muscle, and held up the shadow snake’s skin. It was a large, single sheet of snakeskin, and it fluttered oddly, seeming to absorb light and fuzzily emit darkness. “Hate to roll this up, but I don’t see how we can carry it loose. Give me a hand?”
Zaltys nodded, trying not to let her reluctance show, and helped Julen roll up the snakeskin into a bundle small enough to carry. Once he had it in his arms, and the pouch of eyes and teeth at his belt, he said, “Okay. Keep me from getting eaten by tigers, because I don’t have a free hand.”
She led him back to camp, though she could hear the guards Krailash had left behind moving on either side in tandem with them. Zaltys and Julen had never been out of sight of their protectors, probably, but Krailash had shown an unusual level of discretion, for him, by leaving them hidden. Perhaps he didn’t want to embarrass Zaltys in front of her cousin. Zaltys knew she didn’t need baby-sitters, and Krailash had assured her often that he had full faith in her ability to take care of herself in the jungle—indeed, she’d taught some his men the ways of the wild over the years—but she was a principal heir of the Serrat family; Krailash wasn’t about to takechances with her safety. It chafed, but the one time she’d used her superior skills to give his guards the slip and go roaming the jungle on her own, Krailash had been so beside himself with worry that she’d felt more guilty than pleased with herself, and since then she’d limited herself to merely complaining.
Back in camp, dusk was falling, and it was nearly time for the first evening meal shift. Zaltys led Julen to Quelamia’s wagon and knocked on the trunk.
A tiny knothole opened into a round door, and the eladrin looked out. “Yes?”
“We brought you dead animal parts,” Julen said.
“How … thoughtful.”
“Skin of a shadow snake,” Zaltys said. “And some other bits. Krailash said you could use them?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, plucking the skin and the pouch from Julen’s hands. “I’m engaged in a little project, at your mother’s behest, Zaltys. I think you’ll enjoy the results.” Without another word, she sealed up the trunk of her tree.
Zaltys and Julen exchanged shrugs. “You never got that food,” she said. “Want to come eat with me? I
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