Serpent's Silver by Piers Anthony Page B

object of distant love? So probably her parents were right, and the persistence of the memory was simply because of her secret longing for just that sort of thing.
    But when she had been chained out as sacrifice for the serpent, that memory had blazed forth again, undimmed by time or reason. Now she had to believe, because it was her only hope of rescue. She had been brought here, and it must not be the end. It was the place of the vision, and Kian had come, and he could be the man. She remembered now that the vision had not said she would lose him, just that he would leave her but that it need not be the end. Now she had a better notion of what she should do, for she knew herself to be a pretty woman, and men liked that. So if she could just capture Kian’s heart before he went far away, then maybe he would change his mind and stay. It certainly seemed worth the try, and even if it wasn’t the vision, it was worth doing. Because the dream might not be real, but her love was, however foolishly based. It wouldn’t be foolish anymore if she could only—
    Jac stuck his head through the tent flap and called for the dwarf. Heeto came running, his short legs blurring in the way they had as they carried him from the horse he had been grooming to his master’s tent.
    “Heeto, bring a shovel!” Jac said.
    “Master, is he—”
    “He must be. It’s been far too long.”
    “NO!” It burst from her involuntarily. “No, he can’t be dead!”
    Jac looked at her with a stricken face. “I don’t want him to be, but facts are facts. If he was going to come alive he’d start breathing. It’s been too long. He took one berry, same as before, so we know how long it takes.”
    “Wait! Wait, because he will come around!”
    “You seem certain.”
    “I am!” she said, hoping that her vehemence made up for her uncertainty.
    He studied her, perhaps coming to understand the secret of her heart. If Kian died, there would be no one for her but Jac. But not if Kian died because Jac had buried him too soon. “You want me to wait until he deteriorates?”
    “Yes! Yes, wait that long!” For that would happen long before her love died.
    “The ants will be coming. And the flies.”
    “I’ll watch! I’ll keep them off him.”
    Jac shook his head. “That won’t be pleasant. Perhaps Heeto—”
    She pushed by him into the tent. Kian lay there on a bearver hide, apparently quite dead. She sat down, crossed her legs and arms, and waited. Jac, accepting the way of it, silently squeezed her shoulder once and then left.
    As time passed and no life returned to the body before her, she reached over and took up his pouch. She tipped it up and four of the berries rolled out into her palm.
    She gazed at them, appreciating their nature. These were otherworld berries, and they caused a round-eared person to do an astral separation. Apparently roundears were rare in Kian’s world. They were common here; did that change things? Would the berries work for a local roundear as well as they did for him?
    She had to do something, according to the vision. She had thought it was to make him love her, so he would return, but maybe it was more than that. Maybe she had to bring him back. From whatever realm his spirit had gone to. Suppose, just suppose…
    Quickly, not thinking further about what she did, lest she reconsider, she pushed the berries into her mouth. The taste was strange, though not unpleasant. She hesitated only a moment, then swallowed.
    In mere heartbeats she began to feel that she was in fact leaving her body. She saw the top of the tent much too close. Then she was outdoors, and the sky was as blue overhead as her own eyes in a mirror. There were soft, wispy clouds.
    If this was another vision, it was a fine one. But she was gambling that it wasn’t. “Kian, Kian—I am coming for you,” she said voicelessly. “Whether this be death or astral separation, I am doing what you have done. I am coming to where you are, Kian. We’ll be