Stone Rose 11 & 12

[maderr]

Chapter Eleven


“I have never felt so disinclined to leave a place,” Cortez said with a long sigh as she finished packing the saddlebags. “I wish I could show this place to Fidel; he would like it.”

Culebra nodded, attention more on the temple he stood before than on her words.

Cortez smiled and closed the bags, then strode over and took him gently by the arm. “Come, Highness, we had best be on our way. Fidel will lay eggs if we are not waiting for him at the appointed time and place.”

“I would be duly impressed if Fidel managed to do that,” Culebra said with a smile, allowing himself to be led away from the temple.

She wondered what it was like for Culebra, to be at a place where once the god he was supposed to be the mortal reincarnation of had been worshipped. It had been fascinating, even frightening to some degree, to see him be both the quiet prince she knew and the…god, she supposed, that he was or had been.

“The rain has finally stopped,” Culebra said. “It smells as though the clouds have finally moved on.”

Cortez looked up. “Hard to tell for certain, as it’s still so early in the morning, but I would say you are correct, Highness. Perhaps some drizzling, but I think the worst is well past us now. Up you go.” She helped him up into the saddle, constantly amazed at how light the prince was, then swung up behind him. Settling an arm around Culebra’s waist, she clucked to the horse and turned to give the temple one last, long look.

Truly it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen – smoky gray marble, the tall pillars and ornate carvings. It was like…something from a dream, set in a field that by contrast seemed too green, too bright. Stifling a sigh, Cortez let the temple vanish from her sight as they returned to the thick forest she was slowly growing to hate.

At least, she reminded herself, it was no longer raining.

She wondered how far off course they were – but only a few minutes riding brought them back to the rough path that was her only guide up the mountain. Had anyone but them come this way in recent years? Obviously not, and it piqued her curiosity to know why the people paying them wanted to meet practically at the top of the Azul.

Thankfully, they would not be going quite to the top – the journey would not even be physically possible for Culebra, who had it rough enough being forced to ride all day long.

They traveled in silence for nearly half an hour before Cortez could no longer keep her questions to herself – honestly, she was pushing forty and had nothing but gold to show for her life. She should not be acting this way. “Do you really think it’s possible to be your bodyguard, Highness?”

“If you truly want a life of following around a blind prince and putting up with all the ugly things nobles can and will say, then all you have to do is wait for Corinos to calm down. Which will take awhile – Corinos is hard to anger, but once he’s riled calming him down can be even more difficult. I remember once, he and his brother came to blows in my grandmother’s orchard. The ultimate reason for the fight, I don’t know, but I do know they were sporting bruises and cuts for days afterwards.”

Cortez chuckled. “It sounds better than being paid to kidnap, steal, or terrorize, Highness.” She also doubted it would ever happen, the idea was far too naïve, but the gesture was appreciated – especially under the circumstances – and the thoughts were warming. Her, walking around a castle protecting a prince! The sort of stories her mother had once told her, before life finally broke her. She would be content to remain alive after they took Culebra home.

She would miss him, Cortez thought with a sudden pang. It surprised her to realize how much. She would never be so presumptuous as to pretend she had anything in common with a near-god…but in more ways than one they seemed to have much in common. Never quite fitting in…losing people they loved…but many people suffered so, there was no reason to think that gave her a connection to Culebra. Prince Culebra, she reminded herself.

The prince might be only just a little more than half her age, and she had worlds of experience he would, she fervently hoped, never endure – but sometimes it felt as though they were closer in age. Perhaps it was the weariness, the bitterness, that surrounded Culebra like a mist.

Cortez rolled her eyes at herself and forced her mind on what mattered – reaching the meeting spot, explaining her decisions to Fidel, attempt to persuade him to go along with it. Which meant she needed to spend the journey today formulating her arguments. Fidel would not give up his chance for revenge lightly, and she could not in all fairness blame him.

Though she wished badly that he would, so her secret would never come out – she could not have him, but she was selfish enough to hope he’d never have to hate her. Oh, to take back that one night of her life…

“You are quiet today,” Culebra said.

“Thinking,” Cortez replied. “Not my strong point, to which my scars will attest. I am better at just going on instinct…some would say I simply act on my temper. Probably several people.”

Culebra laughed. “You have mentioned your temper before, but I cannot believe that someone who would walk into my sanctuary is all that careless. My snakes would have sensed it and attacked you.”

“Oh, just wait until someone crosses me – from what you’ve told me, I’ll probably get into it with your Corinos, though I promise I won’t kill him.”

“I know,” Culebra said. “I would be more concerned for yourself, Cortez. He might not have your…colorful background, but his father was Captain of the Guard once, and knew more about combat than anyone I’ve ever encountered. His sons were his protégés, which is the reason they were appointed my bodyguards.”

Cortez smiled, for once seeing a bit of Culebra’s youth in the way he spoke so avidly of the man he so obviously loved and adored. She had not heard him speak of anyone else the entire journey – only his Corinos, and his feelings for the man were impossible to miss, no matter what he said. It made Cortez jealous. She would give anything to know someone thought so deeply of her – for though she knew Fidel cared, she didn’t doubt for a moment that eventually he would give up the mercenary life and find someone worth settling down.

That made her wonder – did she sound like Culebra when she spoke of Fidel?

Merciful gods, she hoped not. That could cause problems. Such obvious weakness never helped their line of work. Cortez scrubbed a hand through her short hair and sighed. “Truly, thinking is not my strongest ability.”

“I have been told that I think too much.”

“That I believe, Highness,” Cortez said with a smile, wrapping her arm back around his waist. “You are so solemn, so quiet – it is easy to see that your mind is constantly churning.” She snickered, unable to resist the chance to tease – Culebra was so adorably flustered and so glaringly young when he was teased. It suited him. “There is a popular cure for that, one I’m certain your Corinos would be happy to show you – though I recommend finding a bed and not using the ground. Rocks always find my back at the worst moments in such situations.”

She could tell by the way he tensed and then squirmed that his pale face was bright red. So very endearing, to see a man so easily embarrassed. If she didn’t think it would get her killed, she’d pinch his cheek or something. Culebra was the little brother she’d never had. For years growing up, she’d secretly wished for a brother or sister – to play with, to help her, to talk to when her mother withered away.

“Stop that!” Culebra hissed, twisting his head around as if to emphasize that she should stop – and yes, his cheeks were bright red. So strange, and definitely cute, to see the dignified prince so flustered.

Cortez chuckled. “Surely, Highness, you’re used to coarser talk than my few comments. I was certain you noble types knew all about how best to use a bed.” She threw her head back and laughed as those cheeks flushed darker. “Or perhaps you prefer other surfaces…”

“Stop it!” Culebra said, nearly shouting, obviously desperate to get away from the topic.

It was patently obvious Culebra and Corinos had never gone that far. The prince, somehow, did not surprise her – but this Corinos. She had to admire a man who had someone like Culebra in love with him and did not enjoy that fact to its fullest. Admire…and also wonder what precisely she would be up against. A man with that sort of patience and restraint…she shook her head and shifted her thoughts.

“Already, Highness, I miss those beds. No temple should have such comfortable beds.” They’d been wickedly soft. She had slept like a baby. Could have quite happily slept for days and days. Let Fidel run into town if he wanted, she would be quite content with her temple.

“Now you see why I will demand my kidnappers take my bed along, the next time someone decides I need to be dragged up a mountain.”

Cortez laughed. “Maybe next time, they will decide you need to go to a nice beach.”

In her arms, Culebra shuddered. “No ocean,” he said in a thin, strained voice.

“….Perhaps a nice vineyard, then. I was in Verde a couple years ago, hired by someone in Piedre to ‘acquire’ a rare vintage of wine for him that the owners refused to sell. Ah, that was bliss. Such fine wine in Verde, there is nothing else quite like it. Especially when you realize the owners turn into owls, and their workers are a mix of badger, raccoon, fox, and deer. Not what I would expect to see at a vineyard, but they say Verde makes very little sense to outsiders…”

“That is very true,” Culebra said. “There is constant confusion where their Forms are concerned. They say that one day the feuding over it all will tear the country apart.”

Cortez grunted. “So long as they leave the wine.”

“Interesting priorities.”

“Obviously you’ve never had their wine.”

Culebra’s cheeks flushed the faintest shade of pink. “I once drank so much, so quickly, that I fell asleep right there at the table. Corinos noticed before anyone else did, and woke me, but I have been careful of the stuff ever since.”

Cortez threw her head back and laughed. “That I would like to see, Highness! We shall have to spend a night drinking, you and I, somewhere down the road.” It would never happen, of course it wouldn’t – after Culebra was safely returned home, she and Fidel would have to run for their lives. Still, like the idea of being his bodyguard, it was a warming thought, and sometimes that was enough – usually it had to be.

“I don’t drink very well, or so Corinos says.”

“I suppose not, if you fall asleep so quickly, but it’s always fun to try,” Cortez replied with a laugh. She started to say more, then tilted her heard. “Do you hear a waterfall?”

Culebra nodded, turning his head toward the source of the sound “I do. I thought I heard it a little while ago, but it’s not become clear until these past few minutes.”

Impressive. She could barely hear it, and he said it was clear to him. Obviously he more than made up for his lack of sight. “My instructions were to travel northeast, up the mountain, following an old trail until I reached a waterfall…we are not due to meet those who want you for a couple of days, yet. Hopefully, Fidel will be waiting for us first. That was the plan, should we happen to split up. I did not expect us to come upon the waterfall so soon. Going to that temple somehow shaved hours from our journey. I do not see how though, if anything it should have added time…”

“Perhaps we were further along than you first surmised. Maps have been wrong about distances before.”

“That is true,” Cortez said. “We are not far, even I can hear it clearly now.” She turned her horse to the left as the path split.

A prickle ran down her spine, and Cortez frowned. Why should she be feeling uneasy now? Instinct, however, was not to be ignored. “Highness, hold tight to the saddle. If anything goes wrong, let the horse take you back down the mountain.”

“What?” Culebra asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, yet, but something in the air bothers me.” Cortez slid down from the horse and drew her sword, then took the reins in her free hand and began walking toward the sound of the waterfall, in a clearing she could just barely see through the trees.

“It’s too quiet,” Culebra said, his own voice barely audible. “Beyond the waterfall and ourselves, I hear nothing.”

Cortez grimaced as she realized he was right. She tightened her grip on her sword and lightly touched the various knives and other tricks she kept hidden. “If something happens to me, Highness – tell your friends to see to matters.”

Culebra nodded in reply.

They reached the clearing, and Cortez looked it over. Any other time, the beauty of it would have distracted her. It was no where near as beautiful as the temple, but it was still remarkable in its own right. The waterfall was gigantic, but it was respectable, spilling over the side of the mountain and into a large pond – the water must travel underground from that point, because there was no river running through the dense forest. “Empty,” she said after several minutes, unable to see any sign that people had been in the clearing.

“No,” Culebra said softly, and slid from the horse, stumbling slightly as he hit the ground. Cortez could see not one, but two snakes now twined around him – where did they come from, that she never saw them until they were wrapped around Culebra? One was long, thin, and the color of spring grass. The second was dark brown or black, she could not quite tell which. “They are behind the waterfall. Waiting.”

Cortez hissed at the words. “A threat?”

“I do not know,” Culebra said. “The snakes say that so far, they only wait.”

“Highness, you should not have gotten off the horse. If something goes wrong, I will not have time to get you back into the saddle – and that could cost you your life.”

Culebra laughed. “Hardly. I have all the help I need, hiding in the grass and trees. A snake knows better than the men lurking behind the waterfall how not to be seen, how to strike quickly – they are made for it, after all. No one will reach me before they are bitten, and poison does not take long to work.”

“Even a second is too long in a fight.”

Culebra reached a hand up to stroke the dark snake as it rubbed against his cheek. “We will be fine.” His mouth twisted into a grim smile, and somehow the bandages wrapped around his eyes only made the expression that much worse. “If the worst should happen, I will tell them to bite me.”

“No!” Cortez snapped. “That is not acceptable.”

“It is not your decision to make,” Culebra said sharply, and for the first time Cortez could see the prince in him. “I have lived with the knowledge that such a thing might be necessary all my life.”

Cortez shook her head furiously back and forth, then cursed herself for being stupid. “I do not care what the reason might be, suicide is not the answer. It solves nothing. Death has its place, as painful as it might be. Killing is necessary – but I will never believe that a person should take his own life.”

“Your mother is one thing,” Culebra said gently. “I am quite different. More than once in the history of our country, someone thought to try and use the power of the Basilisk Prince to further some ambition. I will not let that happen to me.”

“No,” Cortez said. “I’ve been in plenty of situations, more than I like to count, where death would have been a mercy.” She touched a hand to her face, and the tattoo on her thigh seemed to burn. “My body, scared and ugly, is a testament to that. I have been all around the world, to every place a person like me can go. I still have nightmares about some of them. If I’ve learned anything, Highness, it is that death should not be so readily considered an option.”

“You would rather people use me to cause pain?”

“Find another way, Highness. Kill them, if you must – that is a necessary death. You are a prince of Piedre, and all that remains of our God.”

Culebra turned toward her, mouth set in a stubborn frown. “A god who killed himself.”

“Perhaps he should have found another way, as well.”

Something in the air shifted as Culebra responded. “There was no other way, not then. He nearly succeeded in taking it all away. No one will abuse my power.”

Cortez shivered – but a flash of movement from the corner of her eye prevented any chance to reply. She turned to see a group of six men and three women coming out from behind the waterfall. “Trouble’s coming. Nine in total.”

“Yes,” Culebra said softly. “Perhaps it would be better, for now, if you simply handed me over. If they intend to take me further up the mountain, it will be slow going. You will have plenty of time to wait for Fidel, even possibly Corinos, and then you can follow after.”

“Perhaps,” Cortez said, not liking that it sounded like a good plan, albeit not a very nice one. She was good, but she could not go up against nine people. There was no further time for discussion, however, as the group reached them.

“You’re Cortez,” the man in front said, and Cortez could tell from the way he stood and sounded that he was the leader, perhaps even the one responsible for the entire affair. He…she tilted her head in thought. He wasn’t Piedren. Why she thought that, she wasn’t certain. He had the skin, the dark hair…something about his eyes was off…she could not say exactly what though.

All things considered, he was not terribly remarkable. Not really handsome, not really ugly, more like…neutral. A word flitted through her mind, but it was gone too quickly for her to catch it. At a glance, he looked like any other Piedren, but something about him was off.

Cortez frowned, struggling to figure it out. His eyes were strange, something about the darkness of them not right, but she could not get close enough to see their actual color. Something else was wrong…but what? There was a detail there she was missing, and it aggravated her that she could not spot it. Ah, well. Best not to force it. Eventually, she would hit upon it. “I’m Cortez.”

“Interesting,” the man said. “I was told Cortez was a man. Our contact did not mention you were a woman.”

Cortez rolled her eyes. “Your contact was not the most reliable I’ve ever dealt with. I fail to see what my having tits has to do with anything. You’re the ones who wanted him?”

“Yes,” the man said, and finally turned his attention to Culebra, who through it all had stood silent and patient. “Your Highness.”

Culebra tilted his head up, seeming to look straight at the man despite his blindness. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked haughtily. “I do not appreciate being dragged all over Piedre, and up this gods forsaken mountain. You will give me a reason for it.”

The man smirked. Cortez rather thought he was lucky Culebra could not see it. “My name is Jorge, Highness, and—“

“I do not recall giving any indication that I cared to know your name. I asked to be told why I am here.”

Cortez blinked. So this was the Basilisk Prince of Piedre.

Jorge frowned. “I was getting to that, Highness.”

“Then get to it faster.”

Jorge’s face clouded and he stepped forward, hand curling into a fist while his other reached out – and just as quickly he stumbled back, flinching away from the dark red snake that had suddenly struck forward from where it had been hidden in the folds of Culebra’s cloak.

“Do not come closer,” Culebra said calmly, reaching up to gently stroke the snake with his long, elegant fingers. “This particular snake comes from the beaches of Kundou. It usually feeds on oceanic creatures. Some of the deadliest creatures in the world live in the ocean – this snake fears none of them. Try to touch me again, as I know you very well did, and you will find out why this snake fears nothing. I am here because I chose to be. Do not try my patience.”

Silence fell thick and heavy as Jorge and his people absorbed Culebra’s words. Cortez knew how they felt. Prince Culebra was beautiful, quiet, and poised. He could not see, did not look as though he could or would ever hurt anything. Yet at least three snakes were now wrapped around him, and threats of pain and death fell calmly from his lips.

Prince Culebra was nothing if not a study in contrasts – kind one moment, almost cruel the next. That contrast, more than anything, made it real to her that he was the remnants of a god of death.

“Tell why I am here,” Culebra said again.

Jorge flashed a grin that made Cortez want to punch all his teeth out. “We’re going to restore you to your full glory, Highness.”

Culebra drew a sharp breath, and Cortez swore that if it had been even remotely possible for that alabaster skin to go any whiter, it would have. “What?”

“We’re going to make you a god.”







Chapter Twelve

The words echoed through Culebra’s head, unsettling every fiber of his being. “You can’t do that,” he said. “It’s impossible.”

Jorge laughed, and Culebra had never wanted so badly to tell his snakes to kill someone. Something about the man deeply unsettled him – that voice was like some long-buried nightmare come to life.

There was nothing unusual about it, nothing he could pinpoint, but something deep inside him shuddered to hear it.

All he did notice was that the accent was slightly off –not enough that most people would be able to tell. But he relied heavily on nuances of voice and speech to remember people at large gatherings. Nothing was more confusing or overwhelming than a large dinner party where everyone knew he was blind yet expected him to get along as well as those who could see.

This voice…it was like he had, at one point, spoken in quite a different way. Culebra would be willing to bet that the man’s Piedren accent slipped when he was angry or tired, revealing more of his true accent. He did not recognize it, though that didn’t mean anything. For every dialect and accent he knew, there was at least three he did not. Verde especially, because it was so vast, was notorious for its number of regional dialects. Was the man from Verde?

He didn’t think so. Jorge…that was a Piedren name, but it could be an alias. If he were kidnapping royalty, he wouldn’t be quick to use his real name.

“It’s impossible,” he repeated.

“You’re wrong, Highness.”

Culebra shook his head. “I know better than anyone living how impossible it is to do such a thing. My eyes, my snakes…” his ability to sense pending death, “are all that remain of the Basilisk.”

“Not true,” Jorge replied. “We need only find the temple where once the Basilisk was buried.”

“You think it somewhere here in the Azul?” Culebra asked, then burst into laughter. “Fools! Do you think you are the first to search for them? The private journals of the royal family are filled with accounts of failed attempts to find the Lost Temple. It is no more than a legend now. Men have searched from the Azul to the Great Plains to the coast and found nothing but their lives suddenly wasted and gone.”

Beside him, he could feel Cortez shift restlessly. He wondered what she saw, how much he was missing. Well, no matter – one way or the other, he would let no one control him, misuse his power. My power will not be abused.

He heard Jorge step closer, and could feel the man’s anger at the way he’d laughed – but this time Jorge wasn’t dumb enough to get within range of the snakes that twined around him. Though, a smarter man would be looking for snakes in the grass.

There were ten.

Culebra summoned his haughty tone again, knowing precisely how infuriating people found it. He knew how the games were played. “How do you propose to find a temple when a thousand years of searching have never produced a single clue as to its existence?”

Jorge laughed in that awful way of his that set Culebra’s teeth on edge. “We will find it.”

“Meaning that, as of this moment, you do not know where it is.”

“We know it is in these mountains; what little information provided by the old legends would seem to indicate that. Piedre is filled with mountains, but none are as uninhabited and remote as the Azul. Beyond them is nothing but the sea, Verde is to the west, and the rest of Piedre to the south. All that aside, with you we will be able to find it.”

Culebra said nothing. He was more interested in the way he could not sense death upon anyone – but it was more in the fashion of leaving Piedre. Something was blocking his ability to predict death. What, though?

Perhaps he was simply too strained to do it. That point was hard to reach, but it had happened before…years and years ago.

“How will I find it? As I’ve already said, it’s been done before – and with the Basilisk Prince. Do you really think you’re the only one clever enough to have thought of that? You are a fool.”

The snake at his shoulder hissed, and Culebra drew back. “Do not touch me. I have warned you.”

“I merely want to give you something, Highness,” Jorge said congenially.

“What?” Culebra said.

“They say this elixir heightens the senses, makes natural abilities far greater.”

“Get away from me,” Culebra said, stepping back, desperate to get away. Something about the elixir chilled him, frightened him. My power will not be abused. “Stay back.”

“Don’t even try it!” Cortez suddenly bellowed, and Culebra recoiled as he heard swords drawn, the sound of metal clashing, grunts of pain, and the field suddenly filled with the coppery scent of blood. “Get away! Bastards! Highness, get away!”

“Cortez!”

“Highn—“ Cortez was abruptly cut off, and then moaned softly, and Culebra heard her fall to the ground. The sound of swords returning to their sheaths made the knots of fear in his stomach twist and tighten.

“No!” Culebra shouted. “I will kill every last one of you if you do her further harm.”

“Drink the elixir,” Jorge said.

Culebra’s words were prevented as one of the others gave a startled cry. “Jorge! Look! She—she’s a Black Rose.”

“What?” Jorge hissed the word, clearly surprised.

“It’s here, on her thigh. We were trying to bind the wound…”

“Kill her,” Jorge said flatly. “I do not keep deals with Black Rose.”

“That makes no sense, though, Boss. Why would they hire one of their own to kidnap him?”

Culebra froze. “Wait…you’re not the ones who paid her to kidnap me? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Not so snotty now, are you, Highness? No, we’re not. The men who hired her to kidnap you are currently rotting away in the forest.”

“H-how many did you kill?”

“The Black Rose was gathering here en masse. They never saw it coming; far too arrogant, that lot. Serves them right. All told? At least a couple hundred or so. I stopped counting after that, so it could be more.”

That was why, Culebra realized, stomach clenching. He couldn’t sense death because the mountain was saturated with it. “How many of you are here?”

A woman answered the question – her voice as beautiful in tone as Cortez’s voice was rough, but it held none of the kindness. “We took over one of the little villages, about two days ride from here. It had belonged to the Black Rose.”

“Yeah,” said another voice answered, this time a man – older, from the sounds of it. “Serves them right, always killing us. Maybe now they’ll learn we’re not so easily pushed over.”

Culebra shook his head, unable to believe the realizations that were flooding through him. “You…you’re from the White Rose.”

“Oh, the Brotherhood of the White Rose wants nothing to do with us. We had a difference of opinion. We, my dear Basilisk prince, are the Brotherhood of the Stone Rose, and it is our mission to revive our god.”

“You’re not that altruistic. I know greed and ambition when I hear them. Tell me how Cortez is! Now!”

Jorge laughed. “Do you really care so much for your kidnapper? We saw you talking, and wondered what exactly was going on…she is fine, though as she is a Black Rose…”

“No,” Culebra said. “Former. She no longer is part of that organization. If you kill her, you will regret it.” At his ankles, he could feel a snake. Some part of him always knew which snakes were with him, nearby, what they could do…and they always heard him, obeyed him. Silently he bid the snake twining about his feet to move, be ready.

“Death does not frighten us,” said another woman, her voice grating, sharp.

Culebra smirked, and pet the snake that pressed against his cheek. “Don’t underestimate me.”

He heard Jorge move closer, and tensed. “Drink the elixir, Highness. Do as we say, and we’ll let your kidnapper go.”

Culebra folded his arms and shook his head. “I will not drink poison. If you want me to help you find the temple – fine. You will not corrupt my senses.” Something…images flickered through his mind. They were faded, indistinct, like seeing shadows in a thick fog. Culebra fought desperately to see through the fog, to grasp the shadows – but he realized suddenly that trying too hard would doom him.

Instead, he looked away, turned his thoughts elsewhere, let the strange shadows linger in the back of his mind.

How could he bring the memories back? For he knew, as much as he hated it, that they were memories. He was all that remained of the Basilisk, and the Basilisk within him knew something about that elixir, or something very like it.

Something terrible.

It had frightened the god of death and destruction. It had hurt him.

Culebra didn’t want to know, yet he sensed he had to – whatever Jorge and his new Brotherhood were doing, it was nothing so simple as merely restoring the Basilisk. No one did something without some selfish intent behind it; there was always a personal reason.

Taking a deep breath, Culebra slowly turned in the direction from which he’d last heard Cortez, silently asking his snakes to help him, guide him. “Back away,” he said coldly as he felt people standing too close. Eventually, he knelt down beside a figure lying too still on the ground. Exploring carefully, he eventually curled one hand beneath Cortez’s shoulders and lifted her into his lap, free hand moving to find a pulse. It wasn’t as strong as it should be, but she wouldn’t die unless left to rot in the forest. Questing fingers found a knot on her head, a wound low on her right thigh. A snake slithered down his arm and coiled up on Cortez’s chest; he knew another crawled up from the grass to settle across her legs. “How did you get her?” Culebra asked. “Besting Cortez in a fight…”

“We cheated, of course. No one can face that many opponents at once. A slice and a hit later, she’s out of the way.”

Culebra repressed a shiver at the cool, almost bored way the words were said. Had these people no compassion? “I have no desire to help people as cruel as you,” he said quietly. “So many people dead, and now you have harmed someone who did you no wrong. Why should I believe that all you want is to restore me to my full power?”

“Death should please one such as you.”

“You know nothing,” Culebra said furiously. “Death is necessary to life. It keeps a balance. That is all. It is not your place to decide who should live or die. No one has that right. To take a life is the greatest of sins. Even Zhar Ptitka will not stand for it, and he of all the gods is the most compassionate and merciful.”

Jorge merely laughed and moved toward him – stopping when the snakes around Culebra all rose up. “Your little pets won’t stop me forever.”

“Help Cortez, or I’ll prove you quite wrong.”

Another laugh. “Highness, if they were capable of killing me, or you were capable of letting them, you would have already done so.”

“No,” Culebra said softly, turning his head up, toward the sound of Jorge’s voice. “Death should not be the solution turned to in situations like this. I would prefer to take Cortez and leave. I do not want to find the Lost Temple, I do not want to waste a moment more speaking to you. However, I am even less willing to let Cortez die. Save her, do not make me take that elixir, and I will go with you.”

Corinos would find him, he knew it. Corinos would save him. He just had to wait, to get through all this and go along with finding the stupid temple. Corinos would come, and then this whole nightmare journey would begin to end.

“You will never find the temple without the elixir, Highness,” Jorge said, condescension slipping into his voice.

Culebra brushed his fingers across Cortez’s cheek and silently recited a prayer for safety and healing. Then he set her carefully back down on the grass and stood up. “Do not speak so to me,” he said in his best royal prince voice. “I have already found the Temple of Oblivar. Perhaps I will get lucky and find the Lost Temple.”

“Yet mere minutes ago you said it was impossible,” Jorge argued.

“Circumstances have changed, haven’t they? I cannot let a friend die – only do not force me to take that elixir. Wherever did you get such a thing?”

The minute he asked the question, Culebra knew the answer. Knew he’d known it all along. The whisper echoed in his head, made him shiver, made him sorrowful and angry and afraid.

Verde

Only one

Betrayed

“Where I got it hardly matters,” Jorge answered, and his boots rustled in the still-wet grass as he once more tried to move close to the prince.

“Get away!” Culebra snapped desperately. “I will not take that foul concoction. I would sooner kill myself.”

My power will not be abused.

“For now, Highness, I will let you have your way. Find the temple.” Jorge left him in peace, and began barking orders to the people with him, and with relief Culebra listened as two were ordered to tend Cortez.

“Where do we begin?” he asked Jorge.

“How did you find the Temple of Oblivar? I have not heard anyone speak of that temple, except in musty old journals. It’s as legendary as the Lost Temple.”

Culebra frowned in thought, hands smoothing absently over the scales of a snake he knew to be yellow, red, and black. “I…sensed it, once we were close enough. Perhaps a couple of miles away. It was simple to find once I first sensed it.”

Jorge sighed. “So if you took the elixir, you probably would be able to sense it from several miles away.”

“It’s that potent?” Culebra asked, feeling sick at what something like that would do to his ability to sense death. “Please – that would kill me. I will not take it.”

“Suit yourself, Highness. When endless searching exhausts you, I think you will change your mind. We will start here, and move out in a spiral through the mountains.”

If Culebra had not already been feeling sick with dread and fear, that statement would have done it. Such exploring would take days, weeks, months. It could every easily take years to explore the Azul mountains in enough detail to find the Lost Temple – a temple most said didn’t actually exist.

Some part of him knew it did exist, and that its location had been lost for very good reason. That part of him had known the location would be lost over time, and had hoped for that. Culebra did not want to find out why; the whispers of memory already haunting him were more than he could take.

It didn’t really matter though, did it? Soon, Corinos would come. If there was one thing he still believed, it was that somehow, someway, Corinos would find him. Then Culebra fully intended to hold tightly to his bodyguard and never let go.

Thinking of Corinos brought a deep ache, one that ran deeper than even those brought on by his shadowy memories. All he wanted right now, more than his next breath, was to feel a familiar hand on the small of his back, for Corinos’s dark sugar voice to wash over him – even though he knew the first thing Corinos would do once he found Culebra would be to shake him hard enough his teeth would rattle.

Though that would be hard to do, as Culebra’s only plan was to kiss him until they both passed out.

Hugging himself, petting his snakes, Culebra turned toward the sound of Jorge’s voice. “Cortez?”

“The woman is fine, though anyone with the mark of a Black Rose deserves to die.”

“You do not have the right to say that,” Culebra replied coldly. “Will she be safe?”

Jorge moved closer. “We bound her wounds, and left her near the water. The rest is not our concern. You are. Now, tell me – do you sense anything?”

“No,” Culebra said. “I sense nothing from here. We had best move elsewhere.” Hopefully all the movement would leave a blazing trail. If he had to lie, he would make certain Corinos found him before he found the temple. Not that he thought he would find it. The temple had been lost for a thousand years, and the remnants of the god within him did not want it to be found.

Wherever the Basilisk’s Lost Temple was located, it was well out of the way – where no one would stumble across it, where even dedicated searching would not find it. How did the old story put it?

…they at last lighted upon a secluded temple, one they had never seen before, hidden high and deep in the mountains…

As easily as drawing his next breath, Culebra knew where it was – at least in theory. Where, precisely, still escaped him, but he knew where it was roughly. Why no one would find it. Why only an entire nation of scared, confused people had found it the first time.

Of course no one would think of it, though of course some Basilisks would have – like him, however, they probably knew on some level that it was never meant to be found. The Basilisk had hoped for that, had planned on it.

My power will not be abused.

“You will need a horse, Highness, if we are to travel through these woods with any ease. It is impossible, especially for you, to travel through them on foot.”

“Then bring me a horse,” Culebra said. “As well as someone to lead it.”

“You may ride with me, Highness.”

Culebra sneered. “I ride only with people I trust. So far you have slaughtered hundreds of people merely because their opinions differed from your own, you have tried to kill my friend, and you keep attempting to drug me. I do not trust you. Therefore, I will ride alone and someone will lead the horse.”

“No one can wander through the forest on foot for the hours we will be searching.”

“Then you should have thought of that before you tried to kill the one person I would have been willing to ride with – next time, I suggest you think before you act.” Culebra turned away from the direction of Jorge’s voice and waited tensely as his horse was brought to him. He hated riding; even when he could see horses had never been his favorite thing. He’d always been much happier to be close to the earth.

“Highness,” Jorge said in a deceptively calm tone. “I have been patient with you up to this point. Try to remember that I have killed more than two hundred people, and that if I was determined I could slip past those snakes to teach you some manners.”

Culebra slowly let go of the saddle he’d grasped to try and struggle up on the horse, and turned around. “It is you who should be wary of my patience,” he replied. “You did not kill over two hundred people – you gave the order and stood back while your followers did the killing. That is quite different. You might indeed get past the snakes that wrap around me – but you would never get past the one that is behind you, waiting. Nor would you get past the one that hangs above you in the tree overhead.” He could feel the voice rising up in him, that other presence that seemed to be taking over with increasing frequency. “My children might have forgotten the god they once worshipped, but my beauties remember everything. Remember who I embody, and that one look is all it would take to kill you – and you do not want to die that way.”

Silence met his words, and Cuebra used the chance to clumsily mount the horse, feeling stupid but having very little choice – for he would let no one help him. Thankfully, the poor horse was tolerant, and probably used to him after all the time they’d spent together.

“I do not appreciate being spoken to in such a way,” Jorge finally said, his voice colder than Culebra had yet heard it. “You are my prisoner.”

“I am your god.”

“You are my tool.”

Culebra knew he turned away from the way his voice changed.

“Kill the woman!” Jorge bellowed. “That will teach the prince his place. Then he will take the elixir and we will be on our way toward reviving a true god.”

Rage burned white hot through Culebra. “We struck a bargain,” he said. “Do not betray me in this, or you will regret it.”

Jorge said nothing.

“I said do not betray me!” Culebra shouted, temper finally shattering. Across the field his voice boomed, echoed, as if the small clearing somehow was able to amplify it. Beneath their feet, the ground trembled ever so slightly. All around him he heard gasps, cries that were immediately cut off.

The forest fell silent. Even the waterfall seemed, for a moment, to falter.

“W-what was that?” Asked a voice Culebra did not recognize, except as one of Jorge’s group.

“Do not betray me,” Culebra said, and knew somehow that he was looking directly at Jorge.

“I only want the temple, Highness.”

Culebra was silent, thoughts racing. The temple was best lost, but Jorge had already come close to betraying their agreement.

Suddenly he was tired of it. What could they do even if they found the temple? No one knew anything about reviving a god – certainly he didn’t. Beyond that, he sensed picking a temple that would be lost over time was not the only precaution the Basilisk had taken. He would have to trust to that.

Because he knew where the temple was, now that he had decided to find it. Now that he wanted to find it, the memories spilled into his mind with all the force of the waterfall roaring in his ears.

“The temple is beneath us,” Culebra said at last. “I would be willing to bet the entrance is behind the waterfall, deeper into the cavern there than you or your team have probably gone. The way is long, hard, and treacherous – the Basilisk did not want it found. Know this, however…”

“Yes?” Jorge asked.

“Cross me once, hurt anyone or anything that is precious to me, and I will kill you myself.”

“Yes, Highness,” Jorge said, and Culebra was more curious than ever about this man who so blithely ordered hundreds killed, so calmly accepted a threat of death.

He also wondered why this man with the strange accent wanted so badly to resurrect a god for whom he held little or no respect.

“Who are you, Jorge?” he asked as he allowed the man to finally take his arm, guide him toward the waterfall.

Jorge laughed, a far from pleasant sound – Culebra was struck by the sadness in it, but not moved. He was beyond anything but contempt for this man. “I am nothing but a man trying to save his home. You are my key. Always, Basilisk, you have been the key.”

The words struck Culebra like frozen rain. He said nothing, however, as the roar of the waterfall became deafening, making him dizzy. Then he felt the spray of water on his face, and then a wash of damp cold as they passed from the sunlight and into the dark caves.

Comments

[eurynome-on-ice.livejournal.com]

I want more...

I'm not liking Jorge very much at the moment. Someone so cold isn't someone to be trusted. And using a hostage is a despicable way to handle matters.