Page 46 of Embrace the Serpent

He laughed.

The carriage lurched. I looked up from Grimney’s open mouth—I was plucking the glass beads that were stuck between his teeth—and lifted the short drapes.

The desert had given way to wide open plains, and now the plains were bowing to rolling hills. The breeze was cool and brought with it the green smell of growing things. The hills were a green so deep it was almost blue, and nestled in the valleys like sleeping cats were forests of squat, densely packed trees. A softmist wound its way through the hills. I shivered.

I peeked out the back window. Directly behind us was a plain carriage driven by one of the Serpent King’s huntsmen, and behind them was a line of Imperial carriages carrying the rest of our entourage. There were a few huntsmen on horseback, but they were outnumbered by Imperial outriders almost four to one.

I shut the latch and straightened up. The Serpent King hadn’t said a word to me. He was pretending to be asleep.

At the head of our caravan was another plain carriage driven by a huntsman. His helm was on, but dark hair curled at the nape of his neck. It could be Rane. It might not be. But under my breath, I wished him luck.

The Imperial Road wound between the hills, keeping as flat as possible, but with a handful of unavoidable inclines that slowed our progress. It was on one such incline that a man on horseback caught up to us. He was riding hard, sweating, and both he and his horse wore sashes bearing the Emperor’s crown. A messenger. He handed a scroll to one of the Imperial Guards.

The guard read the scroll and then maneuvered his horse to run alongside us and knocked on our carriage door. “My lord,” he said to the Serpent King, “Lady Incarnadine requests that you break your journey at Copperton.”

“Does she.” His voice was deeply unimpressed. “Did she say why?”

The guard’s eyes darted to the scroll and back. “To honor you and your wife, my lord.” He craned his neck till he met my gaze. “My lady.”

This was the first time one of them had acknowledged me. There was something I didn’t like in the way he assessed me.

“Very well,” said the Serpent King.

The guard peeled away.

“That can only be bad news,” he muttered mostly to himself.

“How bad?” I asked.

Thoughts flickered in his eyes. “It will be fine. They won’t harm us, not if they hope to find a way into my kingdom.”

Was he reassuring himself or me? “We’re not going to Copperton, are we?”

He pressed a finger to his lips. He shook his head. “Of course we are.”

A tense atmosphere fell between us. I packed away my tools and held on to Grimney.

We entered a narrow pass carved into the hills, walls of reinforced earth rising on either side of the carriage. The wind whistled through the gap.

The Serpent King grew focused, and the air seemed to prickle with anticipation.

The first carriage sped up, and so did we.

“It’s time,” he said to me.

An earsplittingcrack.

Above, a tree tilted—it was going to fall right on us. Its shadow fell across the road.

The driver shouted—the horses galloped—and we hurtled past.

A thud of impact. The carriage lifted off the ground and crashed back, still rolling at a gallop. I squeezed my eyes shut and suddenly there were arms holding me steady.

I opened my eyes to the Serpent King’s chest. His gaze was fixed outside, and I twisted to see. Our three carriages had made it through,but the Imperial carriages were cut off. The Imperial outriders were guiding their horses over the felled tree and giving chase.

Up ahead, the road split into three. The left went toward a rocky plateau, the right followed the river, and the middle went through the hills and into the dark mountains.

A shout came from the soldiers. “Stop!”