Reign of Shadows (42 page)

“Stop.”

The
voice seemed to come out of nowhere.

Startled,
Elandra froze in place.

“You
are not permitted to leave.”

She
looked up, placing the voice as coming from high above her. Elandra turned
around to face it. Inside, she felt overwhelming relief. At last someone was
talking to her.

“Who
are you?” she asked.

The
woman chuckled.

“Why
have I been brought to you?” Elandra asked. “Can anything be done for my
blindness? I have heard the Penestricans possess many powers, but I know
nothing about your order. Forgive my ignorance and tell me please if you can
help me.”

“So
many questions,” the woman said. Her voice sounded old yet vigorous. “You have
been dealt many tests, yet your spirit is not broken. That is good.”

Angrily
Elandra gritted her teeth. She had no patience for this sort of nonsense. “Why
should I be tested?” she asked. “For what purpose, unless it is for your
amusement?”

“You
are impertinent. You were sent here by your father for training, and that is
what you have received.”

“There’s
been no training!” Elandra cried impatiently. “No one has even spoken to me,
until now. Besides, I cannot be married if I am blind. What good—”

“The
platform ahead of you ends two strides from where you are standing now,” the
woman said. “Walk forward slowly and step off the platform onto the sand. It is
not a high distance. You do not have to jump, but take care not to fall.”

Bewildered,
Elandra responded to the clear, simple directions in spite of herself. She felt
her way forward, then crouched to hold onto the edge of the stone while she
slid one leg down. The platform was perhaps no more than knee height above the
sand.

Her
feet sank into the grainy substance. The sand was almost too hot for comfort,
as though the sun had shone on it. She winced and hopped a little, turning back
to the platform.

“No,”
said the woman. “Sit on the sand.”

“It’s
too hot.”

“Walk
forward. You will find a pillow. Sit on that.”

Gingerly,
Elandra minced across the hot sand and stumbled over the pillow. It was a wide
square cushion, big enough for her to sit on and curl her legs under her. She
brushed the sand off her feet as quickly as possible.

“Excellent,”
the woman said. “Now do not move.”

“Why?”

“Ask
no questions. Obey.”

“Why
are you testing me?”

No
answer.

Compressing
her mouth stubbornly, Elandra sat there with growing resentment. The idea of
being tested was infuriating. It made her wonder if they could do something to
restore her sight. If they could, and they had not done so, then they were
beyond cruel.

Her
anger growing, she reached down to scoop some of the hot sand into her hand.

Something
ropelike and sinuous slid across the back of her hand.

She
flinched back instinctively, her heart quickening.

Suddenly
she was aware of them. She could hear the faint rustling glide of scales across
sand, could hear the hissing. Snakes surrounded her.

A
visual image of their powerful, writhing bodies filled her mind. Her mouth went
dry, and she choked off all sound, forgetting even to breathe as she froze in
place.

“You
sense them?” the woman asked, her voice soft and intense.

Elandra
could not speak. Jerkily she nodded.

“Do
not move. You must accept their presence.”

In
spite of the heat Elandra felt clammy all over. She breathed in fear.

One
of the snakes slithered across her ankle, and she nearly screamed. All her life
she had feared snakes. Growing up in the hot humid jungles of Gialta, she
considered the reptiles a way of life, but deadly nonetheless. Even in her
father’s palace, the servants were ever vigilant. Cats and tame mongooses
roamed at will to help patrol the rooms. As a very young child, Elandra had
witnessed her old
muimui,
her nurse, being bitten while pulling a snake from
Elandra’s crib. The old woman had swelled up horribly and died. Shortly
thereafter, Elandra had gone to live with her father, but the memory had never
left her.

Now
her heart thudded inside her chest, and she drew in short, raspy breaths. A
snake slid over her legs, and she started shaking. They were closer, hissing,
their tongues flickering along her wrist in delicate little patterns of
exploration.

Her
body was freezing. She had tensed her muscles so tightly they ached. Filling
her was the certainty that if she moved the slightest degree, or spoke, or even
breathed too deeply, one of them would bite her.

Then
she would convulse with agony, and would swell with poison, and would die,
choking for air.

“There
are forty serpents in the sand pit with you,” the woman’s voice said calmly. “The
warmth makes them active, and they have found you. Do not move.”

Simple
hatred was not enough. Elandra clenched her eyes tightly shut, raging against
the woman in her mind. Clammy perspiration trickled down her temples. With
every thud of her heart, she felt the urge to run consuming her.

She
couldn’t stay here, waiting for one of them to bite her. She had to do
something, had to flee, fight, get out of here.

Suddenly
she was gasping for air, gulping it in with desperation. Panic shuddered
through her. This was crazy. She didn’t have to take this.

And
yet something held her motionless. She forced the panic down, remembering her
father’s voice in her mind.
Never act in panic,
he always instructed his
troops.
Panic in warfare is defeat. Panic is death.

A
moan rose in her throat, and she stifled it. Don’t move, she told herself.
Don’t move.
She could feel them now,
sliding over and around her. Their sinuous bodies were warm and silky soft on
her skin. Their tongues flickered across her, making her fight herself not to
flinch. She was trembling with exhaustion. She did not know how much more of
this she could endure. Then one curled around her throat, and panic flooded her
anew.

The
snake tightened its coils. It was going to choke her. She could feel its blunt
snout moving through her hair. Its tail tickled along her shoulder blade. She
shuddered again and clenched her fists in the sand. Her heart was hammering out
of control. She could not stand this, could not.

“Its
coils will tighten slowly,” the woman said in a soft, expressionless voice. “It
kills by crushing its prey. Of course this is a young one, very small. When
they are fully grown, they encircle the body and crush the lungs of their
victims. Do not move if you want to live. If you move you will startle it, and
it will crush your throat instantly.”

Elandra
did not have to be told. She had seen grown men crushed to death in the rice
marshes by giant anacondas.

Tears
ran down her cheeks. Her consciousness shrank to the strong bands encircling
her throat. She believed what the woman had told her, yet the snake continued
to slowly choke her. The constriction was becoming alarmingly tight.

She
opened her mouth, punting, and realized that whether she fought or waited
passively she was going to die here in this rite she didn’t understand.

Anger
tired within her. She was the daughter of a warrior, and she wouldn’t die
tamely.

Lifting
her hand, she tugged at the snake around her throat. Immediately it tightened
its coils with a quick, reflexive action that made her gasp for air.

Her
anger intensified. She found the snake’s head, felt its tongue flicker against
her palm, and closed her fingers around his neck. Then she squeezed with all
her strength.

Its
tail whipped against her shoulder, and it tightened its coils harder. She was
gasping now, fighting for every breath of air. With her last shreds of
consciousness, she twisted with both hands and snapped the snake’s neck. A
final reflexive shudder ran through its length; then it lay limp.

She
unwound it from her throat and flung it as far from her as she could.

Still
consumed by fury, she rose to her feet, shaking off the other snakes that had
been crawling over her legs. None of them bit her. She lifted her head and
faced where she thought the watcher might be.

“I
defy you,” she said loudly. “I will not submit to your tests again. Let me go.”

“If
you cross the sand, the snakes will strike,” the woman warned her. “Most are
poisonous.”

“You
put me here to die,” Elandra said. “But I will do so by my choice, not by
yours.”

She
oriented herself and stepped off the pillow onto the hot sand. It burned her
feet as before, but this time she did not flinch. She strode out, driven by her
anger and defiance, and counted the number of steps back to the stone platform.

Despite
the woman’s warning, nothing bit her. Elandra tossed her head with a feeling of
triumph. So that had been another lie too. She bumped hard into the platform,
bruising her thighs, and climbed onto it.

“Stop
her!” the woman commanded.

Elandra
heard quick footsteps approaching. Hands gripped her arms. Elandra swung out
blindly and managed to hit the other woman’s face. The attendant uttered a soft
cry and lost her grip on Elandra, who gave her a strong shove.

Stumbling
forward, Elandra almost managed to get past the attendant, but she grabbed
Elandra from behind by her hair.

Sharp
pain in Elandra’s scalp made her yelp. Gritting her teeth, she elbowed the
attendant in the stomach and wrenched free again. She tried to run but
immediately stumbled down the steps she’d forgotten were at the other end of
the platform.

She
landed awkwardly, bruising her knees and hip, and cursed her blindness.

The
attendant was on her in an instant, pulling her upright and shaking her. “You
fool!” the woman cried. “You’ll break your neck trying to run like that!”

It
was Bixia’s petulant voice who spoke to her. Bixia who had led her here. Bixia
who fought with her now. Suddenly Elandra knew why the sound of her earrings
and the smell of her perfume had seemed so familiar. None of the Penestricans
wore such adornments. She should have guessed immediately.

Elandra
gripped Bixia’s arm. “Sister! I beg you to help me—”

There
was an abrupt sound, as though a pair of hands clapped once. The glaring
whiteness around Elandra vanished, making her stagger with surprise.

Blinking,
she frowned and squinted at the gloom that surrounded her. Rubbing her eyes,
she found herself able to
focus on Bixia’s face in front of her. Bixia was scowling at
her.

Amazement
spread through Elandra. “I can see,” she whispered.

The
shock of it was too sudden. Her knees went wobbly and she sat down without
warning. She raised her hands and turned them over, ecstatically gazing at the
lines of her palms and the texture of her own skin. She didn’t know whether to
laugh or cry.

The
room itself was a huge cavern, lit only dimly by fat white candles and the fire
blazing in the center of the sand pit.

Elandra
glanced over her shoulder but saw no snakes writhing on the sand. Puzzled, she
swung her gaze back to her half-sister.

Bixia
was as naked as she, revealing a lush, sensuous body adorned with possibly
every item of jewelry she had been given by their father. Bracelets were rowed
up both arms, and several necklaces hung around her neck. Jewels swung from her
ears. Her blonde hair flowed down her back, unkempt and full of tangles. Fury
blazed in her green eyes.

“Is
this part of your training too?” Elandra asked.

“No!
You simpleton, don’t pretend you don’t know what’s happening. You and your
innocent airs make me sick!”

“But—”

“It’s
all your fault! I’ll never forgive you for this. Never! I swear it from the
bottom of my heart!”