“Yes, North,” the crazy said. “That’s all.”
Heavy with North’s presence, silence lay over the woods. Snake thought she could see other movement between the trees, but she could not be sure, and the growth seemed too close and heavy for other people to be hiding there. Perhaps in this dark alien forest the trees twined and untwined their branches as easily as lovers clasp hands. Snake shivered.
“Please, North — let me come back. I’ve brought you two followers—”
Snake touched the crazy’s shoulder; he fell silent.
“Why are you here?”
In the last few weeks, Snake had grown wary enough not to tell North immediately that she was a healer. “For the same reason as anyone else,” she said. “I’ve come about the dreamsnakes.”
“You don’t look like the kind of person who usually finds out about them.” He came forward, looming over her in the dimness. He glanced from her to the crazy, and then to Melissa. His hard gaze softened. “Ah, I see. You’ve come for her.”
Melissa nearly snarled a deniaclass="underline" Snake saw her start with anger, then forcibly hold herself calm.
“We’ve all three come together,” Snake said. “All for the same reason.” She felt the crazy move, as if to rush toward North and fling himself at his feet. She clamped her hand harder around the bony point of his shoulder and he slumped into lethargy again.
“And what did you bring me, to initiate you?”
“I don’t understand,” Snake said.
North’s brief, annoyed frown dissolved in a laugh. “That’s just what I’d expect from this poor fool. He brought you here without explaining our customs.”
“But I brought them, North. I brought them for you.”
“And they brought you for me? That’s hardly sufficient payment.”
“Payment can be arranged,” Snake said, “when we reach an agreement.” That North had set himself up as a minor god, requiring tribute, using the power of the dreamsnakes to enforce his authority, angered Snake as much as anything else she had heard. Or, rather, offended her. Snake had been taught, and believed very deeply, that using healers’ serpents for self-aggrandizement was immoral and unforgivable. While visiting other people she had heard children’s stories in which villains or tragic heroes used magical abilities to make tyrants of themselves; they always came to bad ends. But healers had no such stories. It was not fear that kept them from misusing what they had. It was self-respect.
North hobbled a few steps closer. “My dear child, you don’t understand. Once you join my camp, you don’t leave again until I’m certain of your loyalty. In the first place, you won’t want to leave. In the second, when I send someone out it’s proof that I trust them. It’s an honor.”
Snake nodded toward the crazy. “And him?”
North laughed without cheer. “I didn’t send him out. I exiled him.”
“But I know where their things are, North!” The crazy pulled away from Snake. This time, in disgust, she let him go. “You don’t need them, just me.” Kneeling, he wrapped his arms around North’s legs. “Everything’s in the valley. We only need to take it.”
Snake shrugged when North glanced from the crazy to her. “It’s well protected. He could lead you to my gear but you couldn’t take it.” Still she did not tell him what she was.
North extricated himself from the crazy’s arms. “I am not strong,” he said. “I don’t travel to the valley.”
A small, heavy bag landed at North’s feet. He and Snake both looked at Melissa.
“If you need to be paid just to talk to somebody,” Melissa said belligerently, “there.”
North bent painfully down and picked up Melissa’s wages. He opened the sack and poured the coins out into his hand. Even in the dim forest light, the gold glittered. He shook the gold pieces up and down thoughtfully.
“All right, this will do as a beginning. You’ll have to give up your weapons, of course, and then we’ll go on to my home.”
Snake took her knife from her belt and tossed it on the ground.
“Snake—” Melissa whispered. She looked up at her, stricken, clearly wondering why she had done what she had done, her fingers clenched around the handle of her own knife.
“If we want him to trust us, we have to trust him,” Snake said. Yet she did not trust him, and she did not want to trust him. Still, knives would be of little use against a group of people, and she did not think North had come alone.
My dear daughter, Snake thought, I never said this would be easy.
Melissa flinched back as North took one step toward her. Her knuckles were white.
“Don’t be afraid of me, little one. And don’t try to be clever. I have more resources than you might imagine.”
Melissa looked at the ground, slowly drew her knife, and dropped it at her feet.
North ordered the crazy to Melissa with a quick jerk of his head. “Search her.”
Snake put her hand on Melissa’s shoulder. The child was taut and trembling. “He need not search her. I give you my word that Melissa carries no other weapons.” Snake could sense that Melissa had controlled herself nearly to her limit. Her dislike of and disgust for the crazy would push her farther than her composure would stretch.
“All the more reason to search her,” North said. “We’ll not be fanatic about the thoroughness. Do you want to go first?”
“That would be better,” Snake said. She raised her hands, but North prodded her, turned her around, and made her reach out and lean forward and grasp the twisted branches of a tree. If she had not been worried about Melissa she would have been amused by the theatricality of it all.
Nothing happened for what seemed a long time. Snake started to turn around again, but North touched the fresh shiny puncture scars on her hand with the tip of one pale finger. “Ah,” he said, very softly, so close she could feel his warm, unpleasant breath. “You’re a healer.”
Snake heard the crossbow just after the bolt plunged into her shoulder, just as the pain spread over her in a wave. Her knees swayed but she could not fall. The force of the bolt dissipated through the trunk of the twisted tree, in vibrations up and down her body. Melissa screamed in fury. Snake heard other people behind her. Blood ran hot down her shoulder blade, down her breast. With her left hand, she fumbled for the shaft of the thin crossbow bolt where it ripped out of her flesh and into the tree, but her fingers slipped and the living wood held the bolt’s tip fast. Melissa was at her side, holding her up as best she could. Voices wove themselves together into a tapestry stretching behind her.
Someone grabbed the crossbow bolt and jerked it loose, wrenching it through muscle. The scrape of wood on bone wrung a gasp from her. The cool smooth metal point slid from the wound.
“Kill her now,” the crazy said. The words came fast with excitement. “Kill her and leave her here as a warning.”
Snake’s heart pumped hot blood down her shoulder. She staggered, caught herself, and fell to her knees. The force hit the small of her back, vibrating with the pain, and she tried but failed to cringe away from it, like poor little Grass writhing with a severed spine.
Melissa stood before her, her scarred face and red hair uncovered as she tried clumsily, blinded with tears, whispering comfort as she would to a horse, to wind her headcloth over the wound.
So much blood from such a small arrow, Snake thought.
She fainted.
The coldness roused Snake first. Even as she regained consciousness, Snake was surprised to be aware at all. The hatred in North’s voice when he recognized her profession had left her no hope. Her shoulder ached fiercely, but without the stabbing, thought-destroying pain. She flexed her right hand. It was weak, but it moved.
She struggled up, shivering, blinking, her vision blurred.