Marcel offered her hand to the seven-year-old, who had paused, fighting the urge to flee. Kadee’s fingertips were trembling, and the edges of her vision wavered. She pulled in deep breaths, bringing to mind the fleshwitch’s voice saying, “Tell me what you must do, when you feel this way.”
Calm my body. Draw a breath, and let it out slowly, naturally. Recognize the tightness in my muscles and relax, bit by bit. Make myself quiet.
Kadee refused Marcel’s hand, thinking,
This isn’t fair!
She wanted to cry and scream and throw a tantrum. But she didn’t want that to happen in front of Marcel, or in front of her new family.
My fake family.
Her real family was far away. They probably didn’t even know what had happened her. All because Marcel felt Kadee would be “better off” with the strange, magical people related to the man who had abandoned her mother than she was with the two loving human parents who had raised her.
“I’m ready,” she told Marcel.
It was the sight of the door to the serpiente palace that had stopped her. It didn’t look like a palace in a fairy tale. The walls were stone, brick, and wood, and they weren’t even as high as the healer’s hut had been. The grand doors were heavy, dark wood, carved with intricate designs that might have been beautiful if they hadn’t led into this low, squat thing, which looked like the house of a troll.
Guards stood next to the door; their eyes locked on Marcel and Kadee as they approached. Their uniforms were dark, midnight-blue shirts and slacks mostly covered by black leather vests, wrist guards, and high boots, and they each carried a sword, a dagger,
and
a bow. One was a woman, but she was dressed just like the man, and her gaze was hard.
“Trader Marcel of the Shantel and Kadee, here to see Diente Julian,” Marcel said. “We are expected.”
The guards nodded. One pushed open the heavy doors.
“Much of the palace is underground,” Marcel explained as they descended polished, marble stairs that might as well have led into the belly of Jonah’s whale. The grand entryway had a vaulted ceiling high enough to contain the entire church where Kadee had once said prayers with her father, steeple and all. Light filtered down from arched windows in the ceiling and was reflected by magnificent mosaics made of mirror, gold, silver, copper, and precious gems.
Beautiful, again…except that the mural depicted a pair of snakes, writhing around each other, ruby eyes glinting, and there were more guards here.
This time, Kadee’s hand sneaked into Marcel’s against her will.
The far door opened, and suddenly the guards were standing to attention as a man stepped out, flanked by two children.
The man was tall, with very pale skin, black hair, and red eyes just like the snake on the wall. He was dressed in black trousers and a loose, flowing black shirt. Kadee’s father never would have gone out or greeted company without a jacket on, but this man didn’t seem to notice or care that the neck of his shirt was open. The adolescent boy near him had dark brown hair and bright green eyes, and he wasn’t wearing a real shirt at all, just a tunic that completely bared his arms, including a silver band on his upper arm.
The girl was older, maybe a teenager. She had the man’s coloring but was dressed almost like the guards, except that her version of the outfit was more provocative—the shirt and bodice were cut low, and her arms were bare.
“Hello, little one,” she said, stepping forward and kneeling in front of Kadee, who recoiled. She wasn’t sure this creature—with its red eyes and outlandish clothes—wasn’t some kind of demon.
“She’s shy,” Marcel said apologetically. “Kadee, this is Hara Kiesha Cobriana. She’s the serpiente princess.”
“Arami,”
the girl replied, tone surly, before asking Kadee, “Were you really raised by humans?”
“Let her breathe, Hara,” the man chastised. Then he also knelt, so he was eye to
Calm my body. Draw a breath, and let it out slowly, naturally. Recognize the tightness in my muscles and relax, bit by bit. Make myself quiet.
Kadee refused Marcel’s hand, thinking,
This isn’t fair!
She wanted to cry and scream and throw a tantrum. But she didn’t want that to happen in front of Marcel, or in front of her new family.
My fake family.
Her real family was far away. They probably didn’t even know what had happened her. All because Marcel felt Kadee would be “better off” with the strange, magical people related to the man who had abandoned her mother than she was with the two loving human parents who had raised her.
“I’m ready,” she told Marcel.
It was the sight of the door to the serpiente palace that had stopped her. It didn’t look like a palace in a fairy tale. The walls were stone, brick, and wood, and they weren’t even as high as the healer’s hut had been. The grand doors were heavy, dark wood, carved with intricate designs that might have been beautiful if they hadn’t led into this low, squat thing, which looked like the house of a troll.
Guards stood next to the door; their eyes locked on Marcel and Kadee as they approached. Their uniforms were dark, midnight-blue shirts and slacks mostly covered by black leather vests, wrist guards, and high boots, and they each carried a sword, a dagger,
and
a bow. One was a woman, but she was dressed just like the man, and her gaze was hard.
“Trader Marcel of the Shantel and Kadee, here to see Diente Julian,” Marcel said. “We are expected.”
The guards nodded. One pushed open the heavy doors.
“Much of the palace is underground,” Marcel explained as they descended polished, marble stairs that might as well have led into the belly of Jonah’s whale. The grand entryway had a vaulted ceiling high enough to contain the entire church where Kadee had once said prayers with her father, steeple and all. Light filtered down from arched windows in the ceiling and was reflected by magnificent mosaics made of mirror, gold, silver, copper, and precious gems.
Beautiful, again…except that the mural depicted a pair of snakes, writhing around each other, ruby eyes glinting, and there were more guards here.
This time, Kadee’s hand sneaked into Marcel’s against her will.
The far door opened, and suddenly the guards were standing to attention as a man stepped out, flanked by two children.
The man was tall, with very pale skin, black hair, and red eyes just like the snake on the wall. He was dressed in black trousers and a loose, flowing black shirt. Kadee’s father never would have gone out or greeted company without a jacket on, but this man didn’t seem to notice or care that the neck of his shirt was open. The adolescent boy near him had dark brown hair and bright green eyes, and he wasn’t wearing a real shirt at all, just a tunic that completely bared his arms, including a silver band on his upper arm.
The girl was older, maybe a teenager. She had the man’s coloring but was dressed almost like the guards, except that her version of the outfit was more provocative—the shirt and bodice were cut low, and her arms were bare.
“Hello, little one,” she said, stepping forward and kneeling in front of Kadee, who recoiled. She wasn’t sure this creature—with its red eyes and outlandish clothes—wasn’t some kind of demon.
“She’s shy,” Marcel said apologetically. “Kadee, this is Hara Kiesha Cobriana. She’s the serpiente princess.”
“Arami,”
the girl replied, tone surly, before asking Kadee, “Were you really raised by humans?”
“Let her breathe, Hara,” the man chastised. Then he also knelt, so he was eye to
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