Serpent's Touch (Serpent's Touch 1)

AMIRA

After years of traveling, tearing down, and setting back up, the bracks had gotten the routine perfect. It took them a day to set up, and the menagerie was ready for its first visitors the very next morning.

At this location, just like at any other before, there was no difference in the schedule for me, except that now I had Kyllen.

I made my “bed” out of sandbags and spare fabric rolls in the storage room behind his crate. After the menagerie would settle down for the night, the bracks would leave, and Madame would get busy with one of them in her trailer. I’d snuggle into my hoodie behind the crate, and Kyllen would tell me about Nerifir and his childhood in the Kingdom of Lorsan.

He was a great storyteller. From his vivid descriptions, I could almost see the grand palace of the High Lord of Ellohi, the richly dressed courtiers, and the lavish balls they held. I could smell the scents of his childhood home, filled with plants and water features. I envisioned the tournaments that Kyllen loved so much and the school lessons he loathed as a child.

Over just a couple of days, I’d assembled quite a collection of things for him. I never found the watch or music box he’d asked for. But with my eyes always to the ground, I picked up anything that didn’t belong in the dirt.

I brought him every screw and spring I found, pieces of electric wire, hair elastics, a broken necklace with blue and green beads, a hoop earring, and several other lost or discarded things. Whether all of them were useful, I didn’t know, but he gratefully accepted everything, and it made me happy.

“Do you know what all these things are?” I asked him once, sliding my newest loot—a bent metal fork and a mechanical pen with no ink—through the bars of his crate.

“It’s not hard to figure out,” he replied, staying out of sight while I was near the crate. “The more I learn about your world, my friend, the more I see how similar it is to mine.”

“Similar? From your stories, all I see are differences.”

“There are both,” he agreed. “But the basic, fundamental things are very much the same. The ancient legends say all worlds of the River of Mists were one, long ago. We share more than may appear at first glance.”

More than for the objects, Kyllen was especially grateful for the water I brought to him every chance I got. He drank so much that eventually it got me worried. What went in had to come out, hadn’t it? He was locked in the crate twenty-four seven, with no access to a bathroom.

After a couple of days, I mustered enough courage to bring up the bathroom issue with him. He laughed when I finally managed to ask my question after some stammering and tripping over words.

“My dear Amira,” he said. “I’ve been denied water for so long, every drop is fully absorbed by my body and used for energy. This world is too dry. I need a lot of water to function. Trust me, there won’t be anything left in me for a bathroom visit for a long time yet.”

I wondered how much water he really needed to no longer be thirsty at all. Since his physical needs were so different from mine, I also wondered how much different he would look. I was curious, though I made no attempt to sneak a glimpse, knowing that seeing him might kill me.

A few days after the move, I flew through my chores as quickly as I could, looking forward to hearing another one of his stories. Before the first shows were to start, I brought Kyllen another bottle of water I’d smuggled from the kitchen.

“So, what is it going to be today?” I asked in eager anticipation. “What will you tell me about, today?” Carefully threading the tube through the bars for him, I inserted the other end into the bottle I’d brought.

Kyllen took a long drink of water before speaking. “Did I tell you about my first time eel fishing?”

“No. What happened? Did you fall in the river?”

He chuckled. “Nothing quite so trivial.”

“Tell me please.” I made myself comfortable behind the crate and got the egg salad sandwich from my pocket—my late breakfast.

The sounds of bracks getting ready for the first shows filtered through the canvas. But they were far enough for us to continue our quiet conversation.

“On the other hand,” Kyllen said. “That story is too long for the quick break you get in the morning. I’ll save it for tonight when we hopefully get more time.”

Before Kyllen, if I had a moment for breakfast, I ate it near the enclosures with the animals. With the birds chirping and other animals moving around, it didn’t feel so lonely.

Now, I spent every spare second here, with him. His stories were addictive. When I listened to him, a whole new world rose in my mind and splashed all around me. Reality disappeared, and I didn’t miss it.

“Is there a king of the entire Nerifir?” I unwrapped my sandwich. Egg salad was quick to make, and we always had eggs at the menagerie because Madame liked having them for breakfast.

Kyllen took another drink, the water level in the bottle dropping to almost half at once. “No. There are many kingdoms in Nerifir, and each has its own king. Lorsan has one, too.”

“Have you met the King of Lorsan?”

“A few times. I even got to play with one of the princes at the King’s Palace, Prince Zeldren. He’s a couple of years older than me. He loved sword fights, probably still does.” Kyllen chuckled softly at the memories.

“Are there any safe hobbies in Nerifir? Or are they all just riding giant snakes and trying to kill each other with swords?”

“Safer?” He sounded puzzled.

“Yes. You know, like painting, reading, needlepoint? Anything with a lower risk of injury or death than what you enjoy?”

He laughed—a deep, rich sound that never failed to make me smile in return. A smile no longer felt foreign to my lips. Kyllen had made me practice it daily, without even knowing or trying.

“Of course, we have all those things, too,” he said. “But painting or reading would require one to stay put for a long time, something I could never do as a child. I could barely wait for the end of my classes every day, so I could run out to play.”

I shook my head, even if he couldn’t see it, and muttered, “It’s a miracle you even made it to the ripe age of seventy-eight with that behavior.”

“Life is too boring without taking risks, Amira. One just needs to be smart about what risks are worth taking. Would you really rather have absolute safety at the price of never having any fun?”

Would I? All my life, I’d had neither. I never felt absolutely safe. Every moment of every day, I lived in fearful anticipation of punishment. And sooner or later, it always came, no matter how hard I tried to do everything right.

Sleep was often filled with nightmares. The past I didn’t remember haunted me in my dreams. Shadows of danger and deafening echoes of explosions kept me awake. I slept in my clothes, ready to run for my life at a moment’s notice, even though there was nowhere to run.

“I… I don’t know, Kyllen. I don’t know what exactly ‘fun’ means,” I said, then added, “Or ‘absolute safety.’”

He went quiet, and I finished my sandwich in silence.

“Amira,” he said slowly. His somber voice got my attention. I stared at the crate, trying to envision him behind its walls. “Why do you put up with this life?”

I balled the plastic sandwich wrap in my hands.

Why?

Because I had nowhere else to go. Because if I protested, I’d be killed, and Radax would get hurt. Because this was the only life I knew, and I had no idea how to break away from it.

“This is all I have,” I exhaled.