human. For some reason, this was a relief. Before, she’d been a freak, a woman sewn onto a snake. Now, she looked like some ancient demi-god who’d crawled out of hell. Despite the underlying horror she felt, she was quietly pleased to look so formidable.
For the greatest part of her life, she’d been nearly invisible. There had been advantages of being a young woman of petite build. Concealing her shaved scalp beneath a cloak, she’d been able to walk down city streets unnoticed. Hiding in plain sight was no longer an option. Brand had laughed at her boldness; at last, she looked as dangerous as she felt.
She decided to increase her air of menace by crafting a pair of curved swords from the picks and shovels she’d brought to the site. She had no training in fighting with such blades, but she anticipated she might need to learn swiftly. In all her recent fights, she’d relied on Rott’s power to vanquish her foes. Wielding such might had almost become addictive. But it was plain that there was a connection between using this power and losing her legs. She wanted to hold onto what remained of her humanity. She dared not use Rott’s abilities again.
She packed the few belongings she thought she might need into a large satchel, which she slung over her shoulder. She decided she would travel lightly; she would create a case from the leftover glass and bury all but her current journal for later retrieval. She wished to make it back to Commonground as swiftly as possible. She felt certain that a complete translation of the letter she’d found would provide clues to finding Avaris, if she was still alive. Brand’s suggestion of finding a monk to translate was definitely not an option. But a more likely translator was nearby—the Black Swan. The unofficial empress of Commonground’s underworld, the Black Swan had a reputation for uncovering secrets. Sorrow felt it likely that the Black Swan could read the ancient script, or employ someone who might be able to.
She set off as the sun was low in the sky. Soon the forest was a maze of shadows. Her difficulty in seeing her path made the feel of her serpentine body slithering over roots and rocks and slimy leaves more unsettling. She wouldn’t have enjoyed walking through the jungle barefoot, and now she was effectively crawling through it on her belly. On the other hand, if she’d navigated this root-filled wilderness on foot in such poor light, she couldn’t have gone twenty feet without tripping. Her new body moved across the dark terrain with confidence.
At last, she made it to the river and crawled out onto a long sandy bank. Now that she was out from under the trees, the night was awash with moonlight. She wondered what to do now. Should she swim? Could she, given that she was wearing armor?
She looked down river and spotted the hulking remains of the Knight’s Castle. She wondered if the canoes were still there. Her body was now longer than a canoe, but perhaps if she lashed two together with poles, she could create a craft that might support her weight. She slithered toward the dark ruins. If nothing else, she could take shelter and wait out the night before deciding her next move.
She reached the fortress wall and leaned back to look at its upper edge, eighty feet above. She wondered if she could find a path to the top now that she had only starlight to guide her. As she thought about reaching the top of the wall, her body slithered forward with a mind of its own. Her torso slammed into the stone. She barely managed to push herself back as she was forced higher up the rock. In seconds, her body was moving vertically along the wall, as her belly scales grasped imperfections in the rock face. Before she could really focus on how she was moving, her head popped over the top of the wall. There was a small tree here, growing from a crack in the stone. She grabbed it with both hands, steadying herself as her body continued to snake upwards.
Realizing she was
For the greatest part of her life, she’d been nearly invisible. There had been advantages of being a young woman of petite build. Concealing her shaved scalp beneath a cloak, she’d been able to walk down city streets unnoticed. Hiding in plain sight was no longer an option. Brand had laughed at her boldness; at last, she looked as dangerous as she felt.
She decided to increase her air of menace by crafting a pair of curved swords from the picks and shovels she’d brought to the site. She had no training in fighting with such blades, but she anticipated she might need to learn swiftly. In all her recent fights, she’d relied on Rott’s power to vanquish her foes. Wielding such might had almost become addictive. But it was plain that there was a connection between using this power and losing her legs. She wanted to hold onto what remained of her humanity. She dared not use Rott’s abilities again.
She packed the few belongings she thought she might need into a large satchel, which she slung over her shoulder. She decided she would travel lightly; she would create a case from the leftover glass and bury all but her current journal for later retrieval. She wished to make it back to Commonground as swiftly as possible. She felt certain that a complete translation of the letter she’d found would provide clues to finding Avaris, if she was still alive. Brand’s suggestion of finding a monk to translate was definitely not an option. But a more likely translator was nearby—the Black Swan. The unofficial empress of Commonground’s underworld, the Black Swan had a reputation for uncovering secrets. Sorrow felt it likely that the Black Swan could read the ancient script, or employ someone who might be able to.
She set off as the sun was low in the sky. Soon the forest was a maze of shadows. Her difficulty in seeing her path made the feel of her serpentine body slithering over roots and rocks and slimy leaves more unsettling. She wouldn’t have enjoyed walking through the jungle barefoot, and now she was effectively crawling through it on her belly. On the other hand, if she’d navigated this root-filled wilderness on foot in such poor light, she couldn’t have gone twenty feet without tripping. Her new body moved across the dark terrain with confidence.
At last, she made it to the river and crawled out onto a long sandy bank. Now that she was out from under the trees, the night was awash with moonlight. She wondered what to do now. Should she swim? Could she, given that she was wearing armor?
She looked down river and spotted the hulking remains of the Knight’s Castle. She wondered if the canoes were still there. Her body was now longer than a canoe, but perhaps if she lashed two together with poles, she could create a craft that might support her weight. She slithered toward the dark ruins. If nothing else, she could take shelter and wait out the night before deciding her next move.
She reached the fortress wall and leaned back to look at its upper edge, eighty feet above. She wondered if she could find a path to the top now that she had only starlight to guide her. As she thought about reaching the top of the wall, her body slithered forward with a mind of its own. Her torso slammed into the stone. She barely managed to push herself back as she was forced higher up the rock. In seconds, her body was moving vertically along the wall, as her belly scales grasped imperfections in the rock face. Before she could really focus on how she was moving, her head popped over the top of the wall. There was a small tree here, growing from a crack in the stone. She grabbed it with both hands, steadying herself as her body continued to snake upwards.
Realizing she was
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