Dreamsnake (34 page)
Snake frowned. Melissa was nowhere in sight. If North had put her
back in the caves Snake might search futilely for days and still not
find her. She had no strength left for a long search. She stepped
out into the clearing.
“Why don’t you let it bite you?” she said.
North started violently, but did not lose control of the serpent.
He stared at Snake with an expression of pure confusion. He glanced
quickly around the clearing as if noticing for the first time that
his people were not near him.
“They’re all asleep, North,” Snake said. “Dreaming. Even the one
who brought me here.”
“Come to me!” North shouted, but Snake did not obey his
commanding voice, and no one at all answered.
“How did you get out?” North whispered. “I’ve killed healers—they
were never magic. They were as easy to kill as any creature.”
“Where’s Melissa?”
“How did you get out?” he screamed.
Snake approached him without any idea what she would do. It was
true that North was not strong, but sitting down he was still nearly
as tall as she was standing, and right now she was not strong
either. She stopped in front of him.
North thrust the dreamsnake toward her, as if it would frighten
her or bind her with desire to his will. Snake was so close that she
reached out and stroked the serpent with the tip of her finger.
“Where’s Melissa?”
“She’s mine,” he said. “She doesn’t belong in the world outside.
She belongs here.”
But his pale eyes, flicking sideways, betrayed him. Snake
followed his gaze: to the huge basket, nearly as long as she was
tall and half that deep. Snake went to it and carefully lifted its
lid. She took one involuntary backward step, drawing in a long angry
breath. The basket was nearly filled with a solid mass of
dreamsnakes. She swung toward North, furious.
“How could you?”
“It was what she needed.”
Snake turned her back on him and slowly, carefully began lifting
dreamsnakes from the basket. There were so many of them she could
not see Melissa, even as a vague shape. She took dreamsnakes out of
the basket by pairs, and, once they could no longer reach her
daughter, dropped them on the ground. The first one slid over her
foot and coiled itself around her ankle, but the second one glided
rapidly away toward the trees.
North scrambled up. “What are you doing? You can’t—” He started
after the freed serpents, but one of them raised itself to strike
and North flinched back. Snake dropped two more serpents on the
ground. North tried once again to capture a dreamsnake, but it
struck at him and he nearly fell avoiding it. North abandoned the
serpent and flung himself toward Snake, using his height to threaten
her, but she held a dreamsnake out toward him and he stopped.
“You’re afraid of them, aren’t you, North?” She took one step
toward him. He tried to stand firm but when Snake took a second step
he backed abruptly away.
“Don’t you accept your own advice?” She was angrier than she had
ever been before: the sane part of her mind, driven deep, watched
with shock how glad she was to be able to frighten him.
“Stay away—”
As Snake approached him he fell backward. Scrabbling at the
ground he pulled himself away, and stumbled again when he tried to
rise. Snake was near enough to smell the odor of him, musty and dry,
nothing like human scent. Panting, like an animal at bay, he stopped
and faced her, his fists clenched to strike as she brought the
dreamsnake closer.
“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t do it—”
Thinking of Melissa, Snake did not reply.
North stared at the dreamsnake, mesmerized. “No—” His voice
broke. “Please—”
“Is it pity you want from me?” Snake cried with joy, knowing she
would give him no more mercy than he had offered her daughter.
Suddenly North’s fists unclenched and he leaned toward her,
stretching out his hands to her, exposing the fine blue veins of his
wrists.
“No,” he said. “I want peace.” He trembled visibly as he waited
for the dreamsnake’s strike.
Astonished, Snake drew back her hands.
“Please!” North cried again. “Gods, don’t play with me!”
Snake looked at the serpent, then at North. Her pleasure in his
capitulation turned to revulsion. Was she so much like him, that she
needed power over other human beings? Perhaps his accusations had
been true. Honor and deference pleased her as much as they pleased
him. And she had certainly been guilty of arrogance, she had always
been guilty of arrogance. Perhaps the difference between her and
North was not of kind, but only of degree. Snake was not sure, but
she knew that if she forced this serpent on him now, while he was
helpless, whatever differences there might be would have even less
meaning. She stepped back, dropping the dreamsnake on the ground.
“Stay away from me.” Her voice, too, trembled. “I’m going to take
my daughter and go home.”
“Help me,” he whispered. “I discovered this place, I used its
creatures to help others, don’t I deserve help now?” He looked
pitiably at Snake but she did not move.
Suddenly he moaned and lunged for the dreamsnake, grasping it in
one hand and forcing it to bite his other wrist. He whimpered as the
fangs sank in, once, again.
Snake backed away from him, but he no longer paid any attention
to her. She turned toward the huge wicker basket.
The dreamsnakes had begun to escape of their own accord now. One
slithered over the basket’s side and fell to the earth with a soft
thud. Several more peered over, and gradually the weight of the
whole mass of them bulged out the wicker and tilted the basket. It
tipped over, and the serpents squirmed out in a writhing pile.
But Melissa was not there.
North swept past Snake, oblivious to her, and plunged his pale
blood-spotted hands into the mass of dreamsnakes.
Snake grabbed him and pulled him around. “Where is she?”
“What—?” He strained feebly toward the serpents, his translucent
eyes glassy.
“Melissa—where is she?”
“She was dreaming
…
” He gazed at the
dreamsnakes. “With them.”
Somehow, Melissa had got away. Somehow, her will had defeated
North, the venom, the lure of forgetfulness. Snake looked around the
camp, searching again, seeing everything but what she wished to see.
North moaned in frustration and Snake let him go. He grabbed at
escaping serpents as they slid away into the forest. His arms were a
mass of bloody pinpricks, and each time he recaptured another of his
creatures he forced it to strike at him.
“Melissa!” Snake called, but there was no answer.
Suddenly North grunted; then, after a moment, he made a strange
moaning sound. Snake looked over her shoulder. North rose slowly, a
serpent in his bloody hands, thin trickles of blood flowing from a
bite in his throat. He stiffened, and the dreamsnake writhed. North
fell to his knees and balanced there. He toppled forward and lay
still, and his power drained away from him as the alien dreamsnakes
escaped back into their alien forest.
By reflex, Snake went to him. He breathed evenly. He was not
hurt, not by such a gentle fall. Snake wondered if the venom would
affect him as it affected his followers. But even if it did not,
even if his dread of it caused him to react badly, she could do
nothing for him.
The dreamsnake he still held squirmed and flailed itself from his
grasp. Snake caught her breath in memory and sorrow. Its spine was
broken. Snake knelt beside it and ended its pain, killing it as she
had killed Grass.
With the taste of its blood chill and salty on her lips, she
fumbled for the strap of her small wicker basket and hoisted it
across her shoulders. It did not occur to her to look for Melissa
anywhere but on the trail leading down the hill, toward the break in
the dome.
The tangle-trees cast a deeper, darker shade here than in the
first place Snake had passed among them, and the opening through
them was narrower and lower. With chills on her back, Snake pushed
herself as fast as she could go. The alien forest that surrounded
her could harbor any sort of creature, from dreamsnakes to silent
carnivores. Melissa was completely unprotected; she did not even
have her knife anymore.
When Snake had begun to believe she was on the wrong trail, she
reached the rock outcropping where the crazy had betrayed her. It
was a long way from North’s camp to the ledge, and Snake wondered
how Melissa could have got this far.
Maybe she escaped and hid herself, Snake thought. Maybe she’s
still up near North’s camp, sleeping, or dreaming
…
and dying.
She went a few steps farther, hesitated, decided, and plunged
ahead.
Stretched out on the trail, her fingers digging into the ground
to pull her even a little farther, Melissa lay unconscious just
around the next turn. Snake ran to her, stumbled, fell to her knees
beside her.
Snake gently turned her daughter over. Melissa did not move, and
she was very limp and cold. Snake searched for a pulse, now thinking
it was there, now certain it was not. Melissa was in deep shock, and
Snake could do nothing for her here.
Melissa, my daughter, she thought, you tried so hard to keep your
promise to me, and you nearly succeeded. I made promises to you,
too, and they’ve all been broken. Please let me have another chance.
Awkwardly, forced to use her nearly crippled right arm, Snake
wrestled Melissa’s small body up on her left shoulder. She staggered
to her feet, nearly losing her balance. If she fell she did not
think she would be able to rise again. The trail stretched before
her, and she knew how long it was.
Snake trudged across the flat-leaves, stumbling once crossing
a crevice full of blue-green crawlies, slipping, nearly falling,
on a surface made slick and slimy by recent rain. Melissa never
moved. Afraid to put her down, Snake kept going.
There’s nothing I can do for her up here, she thought again,
and fixed her attention on the downward climb.
Melissa seemed terribly cold, but Snake could not trust her
own perceptions. She was pushing herself beyond sensation of any
kind. She plodded on like a machine, watching her body from a
faraway vantage point, knowing she could get to the bottom of
the hill but ready to scream in frustration because the body
moved so slowly, stolidly onward, one step, another, and would
not go any faster.
The cliff looked much steeper, viewed from above, than it had
appeared when Snake climbed up it. Standing at its edge she
could not even recall how she had made her way to the top. But
the forest and meadow below, the lovely shades of green,
reassured her.
Snake sat and eased herself over the edge of the cliff. At
first she slid slowly, braking herself with her sore bare feet
and managing to keep her balance. She bumped over the stone; the
wicker basket scraped and bounced along behind her. But near the
bottom she picked up speed, Melissa’s limp weight pulled her off
balance, and she slipped and skidded sideways. She fought to
keep from rolling, succeeded at the cost of some skin on her
back and elbows, and stopped finally at cliff’s end in a shower
of dirt and pebbles. She lay still for a moment, with Melissa
limp against her and the battered wicker carrier crunched up
under her shoulder. The dreamsnakes slithered over each other,
but found no holes quite large enough to crawl through. Snake
passed her hand over her breast pocket and felt the eggling
dreamsnake move beneath her fingers.
Only a little farther, she thought. I can almost see the
meadow. If I lie here very quietly I’ll be able to hear Squirrel
eating grass
…
“Squirrel!” She waited a moment, then whistled. She called
him again and thought she heard him neigh, but could not be
sure. He would usually follow her around if he were nearby, but
he only responded to his name or a whistle when he was in the
proper mood. Right now he did not seem to be in the proper mood.
Snake sighed and rolled over and struggled to her knees.
Melissa lay pale and cold before her, her arms and legs streaked
with dry blood. Snake lifted Melissa to her shoulder; her right
arm was nearly useless. Gathering her strength, Snake pushed
herself to her feet. The strap of the carrier slipped and hung
in the crook of her arm. She took one step forward. The basket
bumped against her leg. Her knees were shaking. She took another
step, her vision blurred with fear for Melissa’s life.
She called to her pony again as she stumbled into the meadow.
She heard hoofbeats but saw neither Squirrel nor Swift, just the
crazy’s old pack horse lying in the grass with his muzzle
resting on the ground.
Arevin’s robes of musk-ox wool protected him from rain as
well as they did from heat and wind and desert sand. He rode
through the fresh-washed day, brushing past overhanging branches
that showered him with captured droplets. As yet he had seen no
sign of Snake, but there was only the single trail.
His horse raised its head and neighed loudly. An answering
call came from beyond a dense stand of trees. Arevin heard the
drumming of hooves on hard, wet ground, and a gray horse and the
tiger-pony Squirrel galloped into sight along the curving trail.
Squirrel slid to a stop and pranced nearer, neck arched. The
gray mare trotted past, wheeled around, galloped a few steps in
play, and stopped again. As the three horses blew their breath
into each others’ nostrils in greeting, Arevin reached down and
scratched Squirrel’s ears. Both of Snake’s horses were in
splendid condition. The gray and the tiger-pony would not be
free if Snake had been ambushed: they were too valuable. Even if
the horses had escaped during an attack they would still be
saddled and bridled. Snake must be safe.
Arevin started to call her name, but changed his mind at the
last instant. No doubt he was too suspicious, but after all that
had happened he felt it wise to be cautious. A few more moments
of waiting would not kill him.
He glanced up the slope, which rose into rocky cliffs and
succeeding mountain peaks, stunted vegetation, lichen
…
and the dome.
Once he had realized what it was he could not understand why
he had not seen it instantly. It was the only one he had ever
encountered that showed any sign at all of damage: that fact
served to disguise it. But it was still, unquestionably, one of
the ancients’ domes, the largest he had ever seen or heard of.
Arevin had no doubt that Snake was up there somewhere. That was
the only possibility that made any sense.
He urged his horse forward, backtracking the other horses’
deep muddy footprints. Thinking he heard something, he stopped.
It had not been his imagination: the horses listened with ears
pricked. He heard the call again and tried to shout a reply, but
the words caught in his throat. He squeezed his legs around his
horse so abruptly that the beast sprang into a gallop from a
standstill, toward the sound of the healer’s voice, toward
Snake.
Followed by the tiger-pony and the gray mare, a small black
horse burst through the trees on the far side of the meadow.
Snake cursed in an instant of fury that one of North’s people
should return to him right now.
And then she saw Arevin.
Astonished, she was unable to move toward him or even speak.
He swung down from his mount while the horse was still
galloping; he ran to Snake, his robe swirling around him. She
stared at him as if he were an apparition, for she was sure he
must be, even when he stopped near enough to her to touch.
“Arevin?”
“What happened? Who did this to you? The crazy—”
“He’s in the dome,” she said. “With some others. They’re no
danger right now. It’s Melissa, she’s in shock. I have to get
her back to camp
…
Arevin, are you
real?”
He lifted Melissa from her shoulder; he held Snake’s daughter
in one arm and supported Snake with the other.
“Yes, I’m real. I’m here.”
He helped her across the meadow. When they reached the spot
where her gear was piled, Arevin turned to lay Melissa down.
Snake knelt by her serpent case and fumbled at the catch. She
opened the medicine compartment shakily.
Arevin put his hand on her uninjured shoulder, his touch
gentle.
“Let me tend your wound,” he said.
“I’m all right,” she said. “I will be. It’s Melissa—” She
glanced up at him and froze at the look in his eyes.
“Healer,” he said, “Snake, my friend—”
She tried to stand up; he tried to restrain her.
“There’s nothing to be done.”
“Nothing to be done—?” She struggled to her feet.
“You’re hurt,” Arevin said desperately. “Seeing the child now
will only hurt you more.”
“Oh, gods,” Snake said. Arevin still tried to hold her back.
“Let go of me!” she cried. Arevin stepped away, startled. Snake
did not stop to apologize. She could not allow anyone, even him,
to protect her: that was too easy, too tempting.
Melissa lay in the deep shade of a pine tree. Snake knelt on
the thick mat of brown needles. Behind her, Arevin remained
standing. Snake took Melissa’s cold, pale hand. The child did
not move. Dragging herself along the ground, she had torn her
fingernails to the quick. She had tried so hard to keep her
promise
…
She had kept her promises to
Snake much better than Snake had kept her promises to Melissa.
Snake leaned over her, smoothing her red hair back from the
terrible scars. Snake’s tears fell on Melissa’s cheek.
“There’s nothing to be done,” Arevin said again. “Her pulse
is gone.”
“Sh-h,” Snake whispered, still searching for a beat in
Melissa’s wrist, at her throat, now thinking she had found the
pulse, now certain she had not.
“Snake, don’t torture yourself like this. She’s dead! She’s
cold!”
“She’s alive.” She knew he thought she was losing her mind
with grief; he did not move, but stared sadly down at her. She
turned toward him. “Help me, Arevin. Trust me. I’ve dreamed
about you. I love you, I think. But Melissa is my daughter and
my friend. I’ve got to try to save her.”
The phantom pulse faintly touched her fingers. Melissa had
been bitten so often
…
but the
metabolic increase brought on by the venom was over, and instead
of returning it to normal it had fallen sharply to a level
barely sustaining life. And mind, Snake hoped. Without help,
Melissa would die of exhaustion, of hypothermia, almost as if
she were dying of exposure.
“What should I do?” His tone was resigned, depressed.
“Help me move her.”
Snake spread blankets on a wide, flat rock that had soaked up
the sunlight all day. She was clumsy with everything. Arevin
picked Melissa up and laid her on the warm blanket. Leaving her
daughter for a moment, Snake spilled her saddlebags out on the
ground. She pushed the canteen, the paraffin stove, and the
cook-pot toward Arevin, who watched her with troubled eyes. She
had hardly had the chance to look at him.
“Heat some water, please, Arevin. Not too much.” She cupped
her hands together to indicate the amount. She grabbed the
packet of sugar from the medicine compartment of the serpent
case.
By Melissa’s side again, Snake tried to rouse her. The pulse
appeared, disappeared, returned.
It’s there, Snake told herself. I’m not imagining it.
She scattered a pinch of sugar onto Melissa’s tongue, hoping
there was enough moisture to dissolve it. Snake dared not force
her to drink; she might choke if the water went into her lungs.
Time was short, but if Snake rushed she would kill her daughter
as surely as North might have done. Every minute or so, as she
waited for Arevin, she gave Melissa a few more grains of sugar.
Saying nothing, Arevin brought the steaming water. Snake put
one more pinch of sugar on Melissa’s tongue and handed Arevin
the pouch. “Dissolve as much of this in there as you can.” She
chafed Melissa’s hands and patted her cheek. “Melissa, dear, try
to wake up. Just for a moment. Daughter, help me.”
Melissa gave no response. But Snake felt the pulse, once,
again, this time strong enough to make her sure. “Is that
ready?”
Arevin swirled the hot water around in the pan: a bit too
eagerly and some splashed on his hand. Alarmed, he looked at
Snake.
“It’s all right. It’s sugar.” She took the pan from him.
“Sugar!” He wiped his fingers on the grass.
“Melissa! Wake up, dear.” Melissa’s eyelids flickered. Snake
caught her breath with relief.
“Melissa! You need to drink this.”
Melissa’s lips moved slightly.
“Don’t try to talk yet.” Snake held the small metal container
to her daughter’s mouth and let the thick, sticky liquid flow in
slowly, bit by bit, waiting until she was certain Melissa had
swallowed each portion of the stimulant before she gave her any
more.
“Gods
…
” Arevin said in wonder.
“Snake?” Melissa whispered.
“I’m here, Melissa. We’re safe. You’re all right now.” She
felt like laughing and crying at the same time.
“I’m so cold.”
“I know.” She wrapped the blanket around Melissa’s shoulders.
That was safe, now that Melissa had the warm drink in her
stomach, and the stimulant exploding energy into her blood.
“I didn’t want to leave you there, but I promised
…
I was afraid that crazy would get Squirrel, I was afraid Mist
and Sand would die
…
”
Her last fears gone, Snake eased Melissa back on the warm
rock. Nothing in Melissa’s speech or words indicated brain
damage; she had survived whole.
“Squirrel’s here with us, and so are Mist and Sand. You can
go back to sleep, and when you wake up everything will be fine.”
Melissa might have a headache for a day or so, depending on how
sensitive she was to the stimulant. But she was alive, she was
well.
“I tried to get away,” Melissa said, not opening her eyes. “I
kept going and going, but
…
”
“I’m very proud of you. No one could do what you did without
being brave and strong.”
The unscarred side of Melissa’s mouth twisted into a half
smile, and then she was asleep. Snake shaded her face with a
corner of the blanket.
“I would have sworn my life she was dead,” Arevin said.
“She’ll be all right,” Snake said, to herself more than to
Arevin. “Thank gods, she will be all right.”
The urgency that had possessed her, the fleeting strength
brought on by adrenalin, had slowly drained away without her
noticing. She could not move, even to sit down again. Her knees
had locked; all that was left for her to do was fall. She could
not even tell if she was swaying or if her eyes were playing
tricks on her, for objects seemed to approach and recede
randomly.
Arevin touched her left shoulder. His hand was just as she
remembered it, gentle and strong.
“Healer,” he said, “the child is safe. Think of yourself
now.” His voice was completely neutral.
“She’s been through so much,” Snake whispered. The words came
out with difficulty. “She’ll be afraid of you
…
”
He did not reply, and she shivered. Arevin supported her and
eased her to the ground. His hair had come loose; it fell around
his face and he looked just as he had the last time she had seen
him.
He held his flask to her dry lips, and she drank warm water
freshened with wine.
“Who did this to you?” he asked. “Are you still in danger?”