Page 18 of Embrace the Serpent

But this yellow tourmaline, with its unique inclusions, was a different beast. It wasn’t a matter of increasing or decreasing its effect. It wasn’t about directing its power, either—that could be easily done, and the jewel had already been cut in a way that suggested the power was focused on whoever stood directly before the wearer.

What Lady Incarnadine asked for was to hone its natural hypnotic power in such a way that the wearer could issue commands.... I didn’t understand how it was possible.

The question stumped me.

For days I thought on it, drafting sketch after sketch. I began to hear the murmur of the crowds out on the street as an echo inside my skull. The jewel mocked me.

On the fourth day, hazy from lack of sleep, I became convinced that jewelsmithing had left me. I couldn’t do it anymore. Galen’s gods had smote me for blaspheming.

“...let me tell you,” Galen was saying, “the parties this Season are like nothing I’ve seen. Due to the Serpent King, of course. He’s been charmed by Mirandel—good for us, you know—”

I startled at her name. I’d pushed thoughts of her to the side, mostly because I had reached the limit of how terrified I could be.

Galen took that for interest. “Yes, she’ll need those rings before long. Think of that! Our work on the Serpent King’s hand. We’llhave to remember to finish those soon,” he said meaningfully.

I stared at him.

He dropped his gaze and coughed. “Er, after Incarnadine’s task, of course. You know, I’ll let you get back to it.”

He shut the door to my room.

I found myself thinking of Mirandel’s rings. There was no point, because I couldn’t make anything anymore, and I had been an arrogant fool to ever call myself a jewelsmith, and the problem was that I’d have to take the serpent-head clasp design and make it in miniature, which would mean I’d need to refigure how the jewel was mounted, and I’d need to work out where to put the hinge, since a ring had to be rigid, unlike a necklace or a bracelet—Oh.It didn’t need to hinge, but it could merely press together and the serpent’s head would act like a lock....

Dusk had fallen by the time I came back to myself. Mirandel’s rings were done. I’d made one in her size and one—judging by the Serpent King’s height and breadth—much larger. They nestled like baby snakes eating their tails.

My back was a knot and my thighs ached. I got up and stretched.

So. Apparently I could still jewelsmith. But I avoided Lady Delphina’s gaze. I gathered up the tray beside my door, saddened by the lovingly cut fruit that had long gone brown, and slumped down the stairs to the kitchen.

Poor Grimney. He hated coming up to the third floor, where the stairs narrowed, since he almost always scraped his rocky head against the ceiling.

I picked up the trail of rocks Grimney had left in his wake. They were of a concerning size. I was fairly certain that several of them had been his toes.

“Hullo, Grimney,” I said to the dark corner beside the oven, where a shoulder-high pile of mismatched stones seemed to have collected.

With a rumble, the pile rose to a towering height, and from the melon-shaped head came a sound like a boulder rolling down a gravel path. “Grrzzdhj?”

“I think we’re in trouble,” I said, dropping his toes on the kitchen table. “I can’t do it.”

“Krrdyndrr?” asked Grimney.

“Where would we run to?” I said. “And Galen draws so much attention. Can you imagine him living on the streets?”

“Grzzn, dzzyrn.”

I laughed. “We can’t leave him behind. What do you mean, why? We’re family, Grims. And... well, because... he taught me jewelsmithing. I wouldn’t have anything if it wasn’t for him.”

Grimney put his hand on my head, very gently. “Krrdyn.”

I patted his hand, feeling my spine crush. “I know I don’t owe him my life. But I do owe him.”

“Ddryn dyn dzzshn.”

“I’m not hiding behind him.” I crossed my arms. “You’re wrong. I’m not afraid to let people see me. I just prefer that they didn’t.”

Grimney set a steaming bowl before me. I slurped down the rice and lentil broth. A basket of bread appeared at my side, and I ate until I stopped feeling sorry for myself.

“All right,” I said. “Open up. Let me fix you.”

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