Two nights before the full moon, the thieves gathered in the inn Ilarion had rented for a last feast before they either succeeded in their task or fell prey to imperial justice. They had spent the day combing the edges of the lake for shed serpent skin, and Janu wasn’t sure how many baths he would have to take before the smell would come off. It was partly a favour for Divya, who wanted the materials for her payment, but also part of their new plan. Or rather, Divya’s amendments to their existing plan.
‘You think those puppets will do the trick?’ Galnai asked. She leaned back in her chair, more relaxed than Janu had seen her in ages. Whether that was due to the excitement he shared over their upcoming job or simply a result of a happy amount of drink, he couldn’t tell. It made a welcome change, in any case.
Janu swirled his goblet, watching candlelight reflect from the spinning disk of honeyed wine. ‘If Divya thinks it will work, then so do I.’ He took a sip and savoured the rich taste. ‘It does sound outlandish, I admit. But so do many things magic can achieve.’
She pulled a face. ‘And I admit I prefer the people whose job it is to do magic to do the magicking. But I also like breathing, so I’ll give her that part of the plan.’
Divya had effectively taken on the approach to the palace. Her approach would see them safely across, but for a distraction from the serpents she had asked them to acquire three serpent puppets. To these she would affix some of the shed skin, which would apparently fool the real serpents into thinking the thieves one of their own.
Hard to believe, for sure. Janu had seen those wooden puppets when Ilarion had brought them back from the market, and the serpents would have to have terrible eyesight to miss the differences.
He eyed Ilarion now, still unsure how much the man knew of what Galnai had told him on their first visit to Chorus. Bringing up the subject felt like it would be a betrayal of sorts. Then again, the last thing he wanted was for him to discover she had killed his father when they were all in the belly of the imperial palace. Secrets like that had a tendency to come out on their own, with an inherent spite that sought the worst possible moment.
After his next sip of wine, he asked, ‘So tell me more about Khunuchan. Galnai has told me a little, but not much. If you want an indication of how little a little is, she still teases me for simply calling it Khunuchan, though she never sees fit to correct me.’
Ilarion laughed – a little, hesitant thing – and Janu didn’t miss the way his gaze flicked briefly to Galnai. ‘Well, it’s a broad subject. You’ll have to be more specific.’
‘Ask him about dragons,’ Galnai said, ‘and he talks for hours. Ask him about home and he goes shy.’ Her lips had curled into something resembling a smile, but her eyes bored into Janu.
Janu returned her false smile with a more genuine one. ‘A shy subject for everyone, then. Well, you’ve already mentioned your time as a soldier. Tell us about before that, about where you grew up. That kind of thing.’
Ilarion shifted uncomfortably, perhaps as aware of the heat of Galnai’s gaze as Janu was, though neither of them was looking directly at her.
‘It was just... rural,’ he said. ‘Nothing of note. We just farmed the land, tried to make enough to get by, the same as everyone else around those parts.’
‘We?’
‘Oh, for crying out loud.’ Galnai rolled her eyes and set her mug down on the table with a loud clunk. ‘Stop digging into him, Janu.’ She turned to Ilarion. ‘He knows.’
Ilarion’s gaze shifted between the two of them. ‘Everything?’
‘Yes,’ said Galnai, at the same time as Janu asked, ‘Define "everything".’
Another glance between the two of them, except this time Ilarion’s shoulders slumped. He heaved a great sigh, settled back against the wall and told Galnai, ‘I know.’
Galnai looked at him, her expression unreadable, while Janu quietly sipped his wine.
‘When the prince told me to come here, I asked for permission to go home first. I’d only been allowed to write, before. The war wouldn’t let me leave. Certainly not with home being the enemy. I wanted to see if you’d come with me, maybe, or...’ He shook his head. ‘I heard what happened.’
‘Your mother told you?’ Galnai snorted. ‘She wouldn’t have told a truthful tale.’
‘She didn’t tell anything. She died a few months after father.’ He looked Galnai in the eyes. ‘Rumour says you killed him. I don’t know if that’s true, but I would have killed him myself if I’d known. I’m sorry.’
‘I’m not looking for pity,’ said Galnai, but her words were softer than usual.
‘This isn’t pity.’ The muscles worked silently in Ilarion’s jaw. ‘When I figured out what had happened, what he’d done to you, I wanted to dig him up and kill him again.’
‘How did you figure that out? Your mother was the only other soul that knew, as far as I was aware, and she only used the knowledge to make my life more of a misery than it already was, the cow.’
‘I asked the healer what happened. When she told me what herbs she’d had to give you, and knowing the timelines by then...’ He shrugged. ‘It didn’t take much to draw conclusions. He deserved worse than you gave to him.’ Then, after a long pause, his face took on a pained expression and he added, ‘You, uh... You really couldn’t tell a flightless dragon apart from a real one when you tried to get away, could you?’
Galnai narrowed her eyes. ‘You would have made exactly the same mistake back then.’
‘It’s just such an obvious thing in hindsight...’
With a groan, Galnai turned back to Janu. ‘Are you happy now? Are you satisfied?’
Janu lowered his goblet and grinned. ‘Happy, yes. Satisfied? I’m starting to think I should have charged them for this.’ One airing of old ills and they’re already bickering like an old married couple. Which they were, he reminded himself. Now he just had to hope they weren’t the kind who would devolve into screaming matches at the first sign of proper friction.
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No screaming matches manifested themselves in the next two days, and the evening of the full moon saw their full crew assemble by the shore of the Marble Lake along with many of the other inhabitants of Chorus. Most kept to the two eastern sides, where they could watch the serpents meet the moon-rise face on. Janu and the others walked west instead, hoping to find a secluded spot to work from. A few tourists went the same way, either less bothered about the direction of their display or happy to await the moon’s passage to their side of the lake.
The surface of the lake itself rippled more than usual. Several serpents kept breaching the water to hold their long bodies erect and stare at the moon before sinking back in.
Heketas led the way to an irrigation ditch in silence. While the ditch was covered, no grate protected the opening into the lake. They kept the water level too shallow for serpents to swim through. It was just dark enough even with the full moon that they might slip in the open end without anyone noticing. They waited for a cloud to pass over the moon just in case, though. As the serpents slid back into the water like sinking logs, the thieves crept out of sight.
‘Who of you are the strongest swimmers?’ Divya asked, crouching so that her lap made a dry platform to prepare her materials on.
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Janu exchanged glances with the other three and shrugged. ‘Not me, I imagine. I was never much good beyond staying afloat.’
‘Janu!’ She tutted at him but didn’t look, grinding some paste in a small bowl. ‘You grew up by a river.’
‘Yes, and something different bit me each time I tried to swim in it. Not all of us are clever enough to be witches.’
Further into the ditch, Heketas shifted on his feet, disrupting the flow of water with quiet splashes.
‘We can both swim,’ said Ilarion from somewhere behind Janu. ‘Galnai and I, that is.’
‘Then you both get to hold puppets.’ Divya beckoned at them. ‘Give them here first, though.’
Ilarion unslung the three puppets from his shoulder and passed them to Divya, who looped their strings around her wrist to stop them floating away. Given the nature of their approach to the palace, Ilarion had had to leave his maille behind. In just a wide shirt and baggy trousers, the lie of his bulk had disappeared, leaving him scrawny and uncertain. He hovered like a nervous gull as Divya cemented smooth little stones in place over the puppets’ painted eyes, muttering under her breath.
Once she had finished, she added another ingredient from her pouch to the paste and stood up. The puppets wriggled on their strings.
‘Are you ready?’ she asked.
Janu checked the seal on his belt pouches holding the siren fruit and other useful tools. ‘All good here.’
‘And here.’ Heketas’ voice wavered. He only had to carry their rope tied around his waist, but from the sound of it he might as well be hauling lead. Likely he had had too much to drink last night, as with every night.
Galnai patted the large waterproof sack she carried over one shoulder. ‘It’ll weigh less in the water.’
With all their weapons in it, Janu doubted the sack would be as manageable as she claimed. She had taken care to trap some air in it, though, so perhaps she was right.
Divya took something shiny from one of her pouches and pressed it into Heketas’ hand. ‘Each of you take one of these, then.’ She passed another to Janu, and he realised it was a scale from the drakfish they had caught. It felt warm in his hand.
‘What are we supposed to do with these?’ Heketas asked.
‘Before you get in the water, place it under your tongue,’ Divya said, and when he made a disgusted noise she added, ‘Do you want to breathe or not? Now for the final touch.’
She went back around their group, smearing a stripe of thick paste beneath each of their noses. As soon as she did Janu’s, a wedge of aromas drove itself up into his nose – citrus and tree oils and swamp-bottom sludge, all in one package. He gagged, curling his fingers and toes tight to resist the urge to wipe it straight back off.
Preparations done, Divya handed one puppet string each to Galnai and Ilarion, keeping the last for herself. On her right hand now she wore a set of pointed artificial nail caps that Janu had never seen her use before.
‘Alright. We’re good to go. On my signal.’ Janu stepped up to the edge of the ditch where it met the lake and peered about. Overhead, the moon passed in and out of patches of cloud. Mirroring its visibility beneath it, the serpents slid up and down in place, their wide hoods flared, their bodies straight. Some would die of exhaustion during the dance, apparently, too exhausted from the energy required to stay so long erect.
‘Don’t forget the scales,’ Divya said. Since she would be going first, she stood beside Janu. Her drakfish scale flashed in the corner of his eyes as she placed it under her tongue.
No one was looking their way, that Janu could see, besides a couple of guards on the walls. He had to hope they were too distracted by the serpents.
He tapped Divya on the shoulder. ‘Go.’
She knelt by the water’s edge then dived in, making barely any noise, and shimmied away like an otter beneath the surface. Her puppet trailed after her. Janu blinked, and the next moment he couldn’t tell it apart from a real serpent. Squinting just made his eyes hurt.
When he checked on the guards again, they hadn’t moved, so he motioned for Ilarion and Heketas to go. Ilarion made a good attempt at mimicking Divya’s entry, but Heketas just flopped into the water with a splash loud enough that Janu pressed himself back against the wall. He bit down on his lip, sure they must have attracted the guards’ attention.
‘Janu.’ Galnai’s whisper made him jump. ‘I don’t think Heketas can actually swim.’
‘What?’ Glancing left, he could just about make out the dark, flailing outline of Ilarion and Heketas beneath their puppet. They hadn’t gone far, or deep, and ripples disturbed the surface.
Janu swore. The guards hadn’t moved. ‘Let’s get after them.’
As Galnai slid into the water, he clamped his drakfish scale beneath his tongue. With the paste’s scent already assaulting his nostrils, he couldn’t even taste the scale, but its presence made his reflexes hover between swallowing and spitting it out. He pressed his tongue hard against the back of his teeth and crawled to the ditch’s edge on his stomach. Water half covered him already. He shimmied out to the end of the ditch, took a deep, stinking breath through his nose, then plunged his head under and pulled himself into the lake.
For the next few seconds he held his breath. Chill water stung his eyes, but he could still make out Galnai ahead of him. He swam three strokes after her before letting out and taking in an involuntary breath. He stopped in a momentary panic, but only the same stinking air flooded his nostrils.
Divya’s magic was working.
Bubbles disrupted the view beyond Galnai. Between blinks, Janu saw that Ilarion had turned around, trying to deal with Heketas’ flailing limbs. The man kept trying to break for the surface. Every now and then his face emerged from the bubbles, eyes screwed tight shut, neck muscles taut like cables. He only stopped flailing when Galnai reached in and grabbed him by the throat. His eyes shot open and he scrabbled at her hand.
Galnai gestured at Heketas, then the direction of the palace, adding a few more pointed gestures into the mix for good measure.
Heketas nodded. But when Galnai let stopped choking him, he automatically open his mouth for air and water rushed in. His eyes bulged and he shut his mouth only to choke again and spit out his drakfish scale.
Janu thrust forwards through the water, his whole focus on the shimmering little thing. Reaching an arm forwards, he snatched at it, but it bounced off his knuckle and twisted away. He caught it on the third attempt. By the time he turned back around, the other three were directly above him. He raised his arms to start back up, then stopped.
A shadow resolved in the distant water – a round shape with a thinner strip stretching out to either side. Each moment brought it closer. Janu froze. He could see the serpent’s body moving side to side behind it now. Would it notice him if he moved? Had it already noticed him? More important, perhaps: how long could Heketas hold his breath?
The serpent must have been three yards away when it angled up, the solid wall of its hood sweeping past the other three. The frills on its tail trailed along Ilarion’s head as it passed.
Janu pressed on. He passed the scale to Galnai as soon as she came within reach, and she unceremoniously shoved it back in Heketas’ mouth before clamping her hand over it. The man forced a breath through his nose, then blew out a stream of bubbles.
Above their heads, the serpent examined one of the puppets. It nudged it with its nose a few times before growing bored and sliding away across the surface.
The four of them resumed their journey to the palace, except this time, Ilarion and Janu each took one of Heketas’ arms and pulled.
When they reached the wall of the palace, Divya had already been at work for some time. The pointed tips of her capped fingers met by the base of the grate, funnelling a constant stream of water from the surrounding area into one narrow jet that cut straight through the stone. She didn’t look up at their arrival, but untied the puppet from her wrist with her free hand. She grabbed the dangling end of the string and gave it a sharp tug, setting the puppet above drifting away from the wall. Galnai followed suit, as did Ilarion once he had let go of Heketas.
Janu pushed Heketas up to the wall and let him go, hoping he would find a solid surface reassuring enough not to panic again. Then he used his hands to walk up the wall until he was just beneath the surface. Kicking to stay afloat, he took a small circle of smooth glass and a pouch of paste from one of his belt pouches. The paste, he applied just above the waterline by squeezing the pouch’s contents onto the wall. Then he pressed the glass against it and held it there as hard as he could, counting ten heartbeats before letting go. The glass stuck. Satisfied, he pulled himself back down.
Something struck his foot. He jerked away, pressing himself against the wall, but it was just the grate. Divya had just cut the last connecting piece and pulled it out. It fell away below them, bouncing off the wall a couple of times before moving out of sight.
As Janu got closer, he realised there was a strong current pulling him closer to the new hole. Maybe it was stronger now they had taken out the grate. He tried to slow himself by clinging onto the wall, but it offered no handholds and his fingers only scraped over the stone. Behind Divya, the others didn’t seem to be having the same problem, but he noticed a strange shimmer in the water around her, like a shield of sorts. Her pointed fingers moved in rhythmic patterns. She must have been holding them back.
Janu grabbed the top of the opening when he reached it and crouched in the gap, feet pressed against the bottom edge. Water pressed against his back, but he couldn’t see where it went inside. Beyond a foot or so, it all went white with motion. He threw a questioning glance Divya’s way and she just passed the coil of rope over from Ilarion.
He didn’t like the thought of going in and not being able to get back out or signal for help, but he took the rope anyway. He wound one end through a few grate openings that remained around the cut edges, then tied it off and took a good hold of the rest.
With a last look back at the others – Divya’s bored professionalism, Heketas’ thinly veiled terror, Galnai and Ilarion’s impatience – Janu threw himself feet forwards through the gap. The current took him with the force of a galloping horse. One moment he was blind, water rushing all around, the rope burning in his hands. The next moment, he flew out into air and almost swallowed his scale in surprise.
Just before he fell back into the stream, he looked down. Twenty feet down, the waterfall ended in a wide stream cut into the rock – and another wall, with another grate.