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Chapter 19. The World Shall Taste My Eggs!
by Silisk
Silisk stretched her jaws in a colossal yawn, snuggling her coils deeper into the cushions. This was a castle fit for any lord… or lady, as the case may be.
Despite the first egregious error committed that evening toward her (A pet indeed!), the adder was relieved to see that not all of the servants were as erroneous as Thalliv. She had even been given her own bed, in a cushioned basket slung high above the other beasts. It was absolutely perfect for a creature of her standing.
And somehow, incredibly suspicious.
Silisk surveyed the snoozing Rekkua below with a careful eye. Although she had seen furred beasts sleeping before, she thought it especially peculiar that another scaled would choose to sleep with closed eyes.
Twisting out of her coils, she slid down the pillar that the basket was attached to, the only sounds being the velvet whisper of her scales against marble. Once at the bottom, however, the serpent almost wished she hadn't descended; everything was so much taller than she was, and it was highly disturbing. She half-glanced backward to the safety of her bed before swinging her head around and setting her jaw. Folly! Am I not the fearsome and terrifying wyrm? Nobeast would dare to harm such a resplendent monarch. And aside from that, everybeast should be asleep.
Her mind made up, Silisk glided to the door in a confident, wide 'S' shape. It was only when she actually reached her destination that she realized there was a dire problem.
The door was firmly closed.
Silisk reared her head back and tried to loop herself around the cumbersome door knob, but her efforts were met with failure. She thrashed back and forth in a furious pace, her perpetual glare deepening as she bared syringe fangs at her new nemesis. A pox on your scaleless, paw-made hide! You dare defy the Serpent Queen?!
All thoughts of her fellow reptilian guest consumed by an angry blaze, the adder was just about to hurl herself against the door when it suddenly threw itself open, and Silisk was forced to swerve backward in a loop to avoid her skull being ground to a fine paste. She flattened herself against the ground, hissing at the offending door. "Hold! I didn't mean for you to open now!"
"What are you talkin' about, Silly?"
Picking her head off the floor, Silisk tasted the air, although she didn't have to; Zula's accent was unmistakable. "Er, talking? Me? I mean…" she coughed, a rasping hiss in the back of her throat, and raised her upper body higher so that she was level with the kneeling vixen's head. "Anyway, where were you off to at such an hour?"
Zula shrugged. "Oh, just a bit of explorin'. I ain't never been in a place like this before; it's so big 'n fancy. And I just can't sleep knowing I'm in the middle of a real adventure." She blinked owlishly. "I bet you feel th' same way, right, Silly?"
Head and neck swaying lazily, Silisk nodded. "Exactly," she purred, her voice shimmering honey. "I believe I, too, shall go for a nightly jaunt."
Silisk stilled when the only response she received was laughter. "What is the jest?" she growled.
"Oh, nothin'." Zula, it seemed, was a chronic giggler. "Just that you're a good 'un, Silly. I like you."
Well, doesn't that just take the biscuit. "And I you." The words were exhaled like vanilla lace. The adder bunched her coils and returned to her original position on the floor. "Pleasant dreams, Zula."
"All right! You too!" The fox caught herself halfway to turning toward her own bed, nearly tripping over her tail. "Oh, I mean, when you come to sleep yerself, mam, not right now and… oh, you know."
Deciding it best to give up, Zula merely flounced over to her bed, making sure not to disturb the sleeping Rekkua. However, by the time she turned around to wave goodbye, the only sign of her small friend was the tip of a scaled tail as it disappeared around the door.
On the other side, Silisk took a moment to silently tout her victory over the unnatural abomination that had dared to defy the Serpent Queen, stretching her jaws in a mock hiss. Only then did she realize the size of the great hall and flattened herself against the cool ground, swiveling her head this way and that to get a better view of her surroundings. Hmm… a little too cold for my tastes, but elegant and uncluttered. It is suitable, I suppose. Satisfied, she slid forward, a flash of oil against the perfect white of the marble below.
As she made her way through the halls and corridors, admiring the portraits and oil paintings and even the odd suit of armor, the adder imagined what it would be like to be the Lord of such a manse. Hold on… Silisk stopped for a moment in front of a sconce, basking in the flickering torchlight as she rolled a thought over in her mind. If this Sarkleyet is such a lord as this décor suggests, then surely he must have… what was the word… vassals! Perhaps he has misplaced a few of them. The adder squirmed at the prospect, scales shimmering as she shifted her coils. There has to be one lying around here somewhere that I could perhaps borrow…
Her mind firmly made up, the adder slipped out of the light and set off on her new quest. Even if she didn't manage to find any vassals (although even a scrawny one would suffice) she decided that a simple bucket of jewels would work just as nicely.
Turning a corner, Silisk was forced to stop at what seemed to be a dead end. However, it wasn't the wall itself, but the painting fixed to it that entranced the adder. The scene of a heated battle was depicted featuring a pine marten in a full suite of chainmail rushing with drawn sword to meet the scythe-like claws of a rearing dragon. Silisk was awe-struck. Raising her head off the ground, she swerved and stretched in a cryptic dance of weaving coils as she worked her way up the frame.
Arching her back in a wide loop, the serpent opened her mouth wide in silent imitation of the mythical creature. Foolish mortal! In the adder's mind, her voice crashed upon the hapless marten like a thunderclap. You are an insect railing against the heavens! I should—
The sound of a door slamming snapped Silisk back to reality with a startled hiss, and she banged her snout against the wall in her haste to retreat to the safety of the shadows on the floor. Not that she was frightened, of course. It was all the better to catch a beast by surprise this way, and any dragon knew that the element of surprise was key to a swift victory.
Resting her smarting muzzle against the cool stones, the serpent watched as a female pine marten swaggered into the hall. Silisk huffed; it was only that corsair. Serpentcharmer, she called herself.
She rapped her knuckles on a side-door. "Ahoy! Lemme in or I'll bust this pretty likkle door down!"
The adder failed to see anything particularly charming about her.
The door swung open, but to Silisk's annoyance, the beast on the opposite end was obscured by Kione. Straining, the snake raised her head an inch off the ground, but the marten slunk into the room and the door slammed after her.
The tip of Silisk's tail performed a twitchy dance of agitation. Stupid door… When she was a proper Queen, she would ensure the destruction of any such pesky nuisances in her castle. What do you say to that?
The door, naturally, had nothing to say to the mental challenge.
Deciding to call it a victory, Silisk swerved around and glided down the hall in the opposite direction. Although her mind roiled with questions regarding the rendezvous, the adder's thoughts were called to more pressing issues as her stomach gave vent to a gurgle. Right. Mayhap it's time to pay the kitchens a visit. The snake chirred as she imagined a variety of eggs, gannet and seagull mostly, laid out in a crystal bowl all for her, a most esteemed guest.
So caught up in her thoughts was she that the adder failed to recognize another beast walking in her direction until he tripped upon her. The indignity! Silisk's icy stare swiveled in the direction of the clumsy stoat, who offered her a genial smile.
"Well, I did not at all expect to see you out at such a late hour. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Silisk curled her coils into a ball and dipped her head in greeting, pushing back the anger of being un-royally trod on. It had hurt, too! "Would that it were something more special," she hissed. "But as it was, I was just out for a nightly jaunt. I'm afraid sleep does not come easy when a task of this magnitude is placed upon our heads."
Antonio cocked his head. "You mean to speak of this Red Brandy quest, correct?" The stoat nodded, the slightest hint of irritation pawing at his features. "Agreed. It is quite troublesome, this entire situation. I do not like it one bit." He paused for a moment, chanced a look over his shoulder, and then crossed his paws. "And to make matters worse, it appears that our most honorable host is quite mad."
"Mad?" Now it was Silisk's turn to cock her head. "What do you mean?"
"I heard him just now, having a lengthy conversation with nobeast but himself," Antonio scoffed. "It is rather amusing, really. Here we are, prisoners in a mansion, doing errands for a beast completely off his head."
Silisk nodded. "Perhaps we could use this to our advantage..." she murmured, "If our host's mind is as tainted as you say, then why don't we simply put the beast out of his misery once we retrieve his treasured Brandy?"
"An interesting proposal," Antonio mused. "And one that had just come to my mind as well. Even if you or I have no use for Brandy, we would nevertheless be left with considerable power in our paws.
"As for the sanity of our host," Antonio continued. "If his ramblings has not convinced you, then pray listen to this: Master Sarkleyet sent out for two of our number to meet privately with him. Surprisingly enough, they are none other than Ikaras and Sybil."
"The brute and the baseborn tramp?" Silisk gawked; Sarkleyet really was mad. "What is the meaning of this? W-when did this take place?"
The stoat waved a paw in the air. "I saw the former come stomping back from his meeting just now, although it'd be easier coaxing words from a brick wall. The latter should be leaving soon." He tapped a claw against his chin. "What makes those two so inordinately special to deserve private meetings is something I would like to know."
"And I as well," Silisk added. It wasn't fair! Mad or not, Sarkleyet had no right to choose that ugly little guttersnipe over her. "It's settled then; I shall follow her. Nobeast will be able to spot me," she chirred, scales flushing a mottled shade with pride.
Antonio blinked. "Now that," he said, "is the first decent idea I have heard in a good while. You know, madam," he said slowly, "we are more alike than meets the eye. Good minds are difficult to find these days, particularly with the company we've found ourselves in." He cleared his throat. "Perhaps it would be prudent if we were to… join forces?"
The adder tasted the air with her tongue. There was something about the stoat's smile that didn't seem quite right, but it appeared as if he was the only intelligent beast she had to consult with. And at least he was polite.
Friends, particularly powerful, influential friends, were always a nice thing to have.
"An excellent idea," she trilled. "Let us meet again tomorrow. I will find out more about or troublesome host in the meantime."
The aristocratic stoat's eyes slit in pleasure. "Good. Would you like me to accompany you to Sybil's room, madam?"
Silisk flickered her tongue out again. "Thank you, but there is no need." As it was, the pine marten's scent stood out like an inkblot upon a white canvas. She wrinkled her snout; a particularly smelly inkblot. "Pleasant dreams, good ser, and way we meet again on the morrow."
With that, the serpent slithered down the hallway, a look of mission burning in her crimson eyes. The sound of pawsteps on stone caused Silisk to coil up in a shadow just as a rat strode purposefully past. An escort perhaps? Uncoiling, she slithered along behind him.
I will get to the bottom of this, Silisk thought, pupils slit through the fire of her glare. And I will teach that loutish knave of a lord who he should really respect if he wants his Red Brandy.
Her stomach gurgled once more, mingling with the pain in her back. And he'd better have those eggs.
A sharp knocking interrupted the snake's brooding, and her imperialism all but evaporated as the Queen took on the practiced role of Spy. Coiled in the shadow of the rat, she waited.
Sybil might call herself a decent thief, but when it came to matters of stealth, there was no besting a serpent.