Chapter 32: The Sand Serpents

It wasn't until around midday that Seraya and the women with her reached the vicinity of the swamp where she had slain the massive horned serpent, as navigating the trees by night, skirting suspicious noises, and hunting for safer trails had taken far longer than she cared to admit to herself.

When she recognized the distinctive trunk at the edge of the wetlands, an uneasy knot tightened in her stomach, and a heartbeat later, the wind carried a stench so revolting that she threw her forearm over her nose on reflex.

The serpent's carcass still lay right where she remembered, but the bloated, decomposing heap bore little resemblance now to the mighty beast that had tried to tear her life away. Dense swarms of flies hovered above the remains, and pale clusters of maggots squirmed wherever the hide had split or been torn open by scavengers, prompting Seraya to look away at once.

Well, at least you're definitely not getting back up... Though in this world, anything's possible.

Kaela clamped a hand over her nose and pointed beyond the tree, keeping her breaths as shallow as possible.

"That should be where the drier ground I mentioned starts."

Seraya nodded, adjusted her grip on her spear, and scanned the surrounding brush; the sight of the dead totem was reminder enough that this was no place to let their guard down.

"Stay close and watch your footing," she said under her breath. "If you spot anyone from the Obsidian Maw, we take cover first instead of seeing who can scream the loudest."

None of the women argued, most having known stories of that tribe far longer than Seraya, while some had personal reasons not to take such warnings lightly. Kaela took the lead, guiding them through the timber, while the others checked their flanks and gripped their weapons, jumping at every sharp rustle with a tension that steadily rubbed off on the warrior as well.

As they pressed on, the ground grew drier, sand giving way beneath their boots, and dense woods yielded to sparser trees and low scrub where sunlight beat down virtually unimpeded. Seraya felt sweat trickling down her back, but instead of stopping to rest, she kept scanning ahead, trying to spot anything matching Vaelira's description.

Before long, they emerged onto the rim of an expansive, sandy expanse broken by low rises, tufts of scrub grass, and solitary trees whose gnarled roots broke through the surface here and there. The tract stretched far wider than Seraya had expected; sweeping her eyes across it, she figured it could easily swallow a solid portion of Emberfrost's valley.

"Here we are," Kaela said, stopping beside a weather-beaten trunk.

Seraya surveyed the open ground for a beat, then gestured toward the lanes winding through the brush.

"We search, but stay within earshot."

The women began fanning out, though one paused almost immediately, trading an uncertain glance with the others that Kaela voiced a heartbeat later.

"Warrior, remind us again what the flowers look like. I don't want to bring back something that looks close and botch this."

Seraya turned back, grateful at least that someone was asking before tearing up half the forest.

"Pale and elongated, growing on a vine," she repeated, recalling Vaelira's words. "The younger ones should be nearly white, shifting to a yellowish tint as they age. Keep the leaves and a length of stem attached to the blossoms so the shaman can inspect them."

Several women nodded, and Seraya mapped out the rough shape with her hands once more, adding with a pointed look at Raska:

"If you aren't sure, shout. Don't go tossing everything in together just because it has petals."

Raska pressed her lips tight, but held her tongue this time. The party split across their designated sectors, while Seraya headed toward a patch of low shrubs hugging a gentle slope.

At first, the search seemed like it wouldn't be particularly difficult; plenty of bare ground stretched between the scattered clusters of growth, and pale blossoms ought to stand out against the sand. After a while, however, Seraya's scowl deepened. Every vine she approached with hope turned out to be the wrong plant, and every fresh tuft of grass yielded nothing but disappointment.

The sun beat down with increasing ferocity, her tired legs sinking into the loose sand, while she brushed hair from her forehead every few steps, trying not to calculate how much time had slipped away since leaving the valley.

If we don't find anything here, there's no way we'll make it around the mountains in time...

She paused by a bush and parted the branches, peering beneath the tangled shoots, but finding nothing that matched the description sparked such a sharp surge of helplessness that she had to grip her spear tight to keep from driving it into the dirt. Niva lay far away, pale and unconscious, while she picked her way through thorny scrub hunting for a weed whose effects she couldn't even guarantee.

She knew many faces in Emberfrost by now, yet most of those relationships still amounted to curt exchanges, suspicious looks, and testing what could be leveraged from one another. Morra had backed her more often than the other elders, and Vaelira could crave her knowledge while threatening death in the same breath, but Niva had stood beside her from the very beginning, even when there was nothing to gain from it.

Seraya remembered the larger pile of fruit set aside for her for the next day, the vines hauled in at the cost of the girl's own dinner, and those small hands desperately tearing at the warriors who had pinned her to the dirt. Earlier she had accepted those gestures with gratitude, sometimes awkwardness, but now it struck her just how often Niva had borne the consequences simply for choosing to stand in her corner.

You gave me your food, jumped into trouble for me, and now that idiot used my name to make you drink her slop...

She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat and forced herself forward; lingering over an empty bush made no sense, no matter how desperately she wished something useful was growing there.

Just a little longer, Niva. Hang on.

Only at the next knoll did she spot several pale blossoms partially tucked between the twigs of a low shrub. She stopped dead in her tracks, her boot skidding in the sand. For a second she stared motionless, bracing for another letdown, before stepping closer and crouching down to part the tangled vines.

The flowers were elongated - some nearly white, others a warmer yellow - and dipping her head close, a faint scent drifted up that matched Vaelira's description.

"Come on... let's see you," she whispered, twisting one of the runners to check the leaves.

The longer she scrutinized them, the more details aligned, and a cautious spark of hope finally flared, though she refused to celebrate just yet. Carefully harvesting several lengths of flower and foliage, she bundled them together, and looking up, spotted similar vines trailing around a patch of scrub a short distance off.

All right... If this is Silverflower, at least I won't go back empty-handed.

She moved to the next cluster, increasingly absorbed in gathering, which caused the first faint rustle behind her to almost slip by unnoticed. Only when the sound repeated itself closer did she freeze and glance back, seeing only bare sand, a few withered stalks, and her own tracks leading from the previous bush.

She frowned, listening for a beat, and when quiet settled again, returned to the vines, telling herself she was just jumpy after a sleepless night.

But the next rustle was unmistakable. Looking over her shoulder again, she caught a slight ridge rippling just beneath the sand's surface.

She froze, clutching the harvested plants, as tiny grains cascaded down either side of a narrow furrow snaking straight toward where she knelt.

What the fuck is that?

Seraya didn't wait around for whatever it was to breach right beside her leg. She bolted up and drove the sharpened point of her spear into the moving patch, channeling far more panic than technique into the thrust. She met solid resistance, followed by a violent wrench, and as she yanked the spear back on instinct, a long, yellowish-brown body erupted from the sand, thrashing wildly around the tip.

"Snake!" she gasped at the sight of scales and a gaping maw, violently shaking the spear to dislodge the writhing creature before it could strike her hands.

The beast hit the sand, thrashing in wild spasms, but Seraya had no time to watch it - the same dry rustling had just erupted from several directions at once.