Page 116 of Sonnets and Serpents
Silas remembered his first meeting with Ceyda, the way he’d felt his soul unstitched from his body. He’d been mere footsteps from death.
All thanks to his favorite professor.
“You blame Pravusat for letting slavers target the innocent,” he said. “Meanwhile, you’re dragging them off the street into open graves. How is it any different from what was done to you?”
He’d struck a nerve. Kerem straightened, shoulders tensing. He reached out to touch the lantern, like drawing renewed magic from a serpent.
“I wish the path were different,” he said at last. “But the deaths happening now willend, and they’ll accomplish an exponential saving.”
The calm voice of reasoning was one Silas had heard so many times from a podium. His hand twitched, as if unnerved to not be taking notes.
He wanted so badly to justify Kerem. But he couldn’t justify this.
“Pravusat is a disaster,” Silas admitted quietly. “But to me, it’sbeen a paradise. It’s saved me from something worse. You let your bias control your perspective, Iyal. You fixated on the rot instead of seeing everything worth saving.”
Had Silas done the same with Loegria?
“Without cutting out the rot,” said Kerem, “there will be nothing left worth saving.”
“And with the way you’re cutting, there will be nothing left at all.”
Kerem lowered his hand from the lantern, his expression mournful. “Advancement has never come without sacrifice; this is only more bitter than most. My best student is strong enough to see that. Tell me I haven’t lost him to idealism.”
Idealism.If so, it was Eliza’s influence.
And Silas could never regret that.
“I can’t be your research assistant on this,” he said, and despite his best effort to be firm, his voice cracked. Not because he wasn’t resolved, but because he hated everything about what was happening.
This was the worst day of his life.
“I’m truly sorry to hear it,” Kerem whispered. He turned his back on Silas and stepped away from the table.
On the far side of the cavern, where it narrowed and led to other caves, a large shadow moved. For an instant, lantern light reflected off one massive, yellow eye.
Silas hadn’t realized how distraught he was, how unstable in his magic, to not have sensed what was right in front of him.
A scaled nose as wide as his forearm poked into the cavern. Following it came a scaled, diamond-shaped head, which lifted to brush the ceiling. The serpent stared down at him through yellow eyes with black slit pupils. Its head alone was half his height.
Despite the horror of the situation, Silas couldn’t help a little thrill of wonder at the creature before him.
“Sarazan, I presume.” He licked his lips. “So I suppose there’s no point in saying, ‘Sarazan save me.’”
Henry was doing his best, but magic was a skill he’d never practiced. Gill could only coach him on Affiliate abilities from secondhand experience, and Eliza didn’t have any insights to add. Even if Henry had been an expert, trying to find one person in a sprawling city of thousands would take time, and time was a precious resource.
Rather than standing around uselessly, she had her own plan.
It was madness to think it would work, but she had to dosomething.
While Gill and Henry were distracted, she slipped from the healing hall and made her way back to the Yamakaz, winding through the stacks until she reached a wide planter with a tree sprouting right in the middle of the library. It took her a moment to spot Tulip among the branches, and she’d never been so grateful to see a twelve-foot snake.
“Nirhaba, Tulip.” It was best to be as respectful as possible, since she was about to ask a python for favors. “I’m Eliza, if you remember.”
The python cinched herself around the branch, stretching out her neck to look Eliza in the eye. Eliza swallowed, then took onestep closer. Tulip’s dark eyes appeared solid at first, but up close, she could distinguish the light-brown iris and the thin black pupil.
“We have the same eye color. Sort of.” She swallowed again, her mouth suddenly dry. “Tulip, I need your help. Silas is in danger. You love Silas, right?”
Tulip flicked her tongue, which Eliza chose to take as confirmation and not as her simply thinking of a meal.
