Chapter 38
Elver awoke standing on a grey shoreline.
Behind her was a shadowed land brooding under a silver sky.
Ahead of her, a calm sea the colour of sleep.
In the surf, strange objects stood in a row, churning water frothing around them as the waves moved silently in and out.
There were twelve of them, and although they seemed to bear no relation to each other she realized she had a pretty good idea what they meant.
There was a large anatomical heart carved from mud-coloured clay; a silver trident glowing with white light; a brace of logs that despite the surrounding seawater burned with a cheerful flame; a mirror of black glass; an axe with leaping lions carved into the handle…
This last was broken and dull, a deep crack running through the steel head.
These were avatars of the gods, which probably meant she was in big trouble.
She waded out into the surf, feeling the warm waters soak her trousers, and pressed her hand to the slick surface of the mirror.
A moment later, the Queen of the Serpents rose from the sea.
‘Where am I?’ asked Elver.
You are on the very edge of things, poison child. The place where the shadowed lands meet the realm of the Twelve.
‘Then I’m dead.’
Death, for you, is complicated. I brought you back once before, and made you my creature. I made you jih. Your life is not for others to spend, but for me to weave.
Elver frowned. ‘I feel like you could have made that clearer at the time.’
The Queen of the Serpents slid forward, bringing more of her body out of the sea and hanging her long head over Elver. Idly Elver wondered if she was about to be eaten again. It seemed to be that sort of day.
You have changed , said the Queen of Serpents.
‘Yes,’ agreed Elver.
There was always anger in your heart, but now you nurse it towards me also.
‘You struck me,’ Elver said. ‘I have only ever done what you wanted, and my thanks was a lashing.’
The Queen of Serpent’s long jaws fell open, revealing rows and rows of serrated teeth.
‘And you’ve kept me away from the world, all these years. I’ve missed so much.’
The world hates your kind , replied the god. It was dangerous for you. Elver, you have seen how the world treats jih, and you’ve suffered because of their hate. Why would you expose yourself to that?
‘Because hiding isn’t living.’
The faceless priests nearly burned the jih from you. The rogue magpie fed you to the Bloody Claw.
‘I can handle myself.’
Child, you are dead again.
‘Why do you care so much? Make another poison child.’
Water droplets glistened on the serpent’s whiskers, clear as diamonds.
Your life is mine to weave, poison child, and I have a purpose for you.
But if you would prefer, I could make you human again and send you back to the mortal realm.
You would be dead, but you would be human, and accepted by humans.
They might even bury your body where they keep their own dead. Is that what you want? To be human?
Elver laughed. ‘No, of course not. There’s nothing wrong with what I am. Apart from the dead bit.’ She thought of Artair, and Lucian, even Sunay. She wondered what had happened to them, if they were safe. Being dead was one thing, but never seeing them again was something else.
‘I don’t want to be human again. But I want to live. Remake me, like you did before.’
I can grant you a new life , said the Queen of Serpents, but it is not without cost. You will be more jih than ever. Humans will not accept you.
‘Some of them will. The ones that matter, anyway.’
For a long time, neither of them spoke. The silent sea moved on, rushing and retreating, rushing and retreating, while a sun the colour of bone rose slowly over the horizon.
Elver wondered how many mortals made it to this beach, and what other deals had been struck with gods on the edge of the shadowed lands.
‘This purpose you have for me. Will you tell me what it is?’ she asked eventually.
In time you will come to know.
‘I won’t be struck again. Not even by you.’
The Queen of Serpents lowered her great head until the tip of her snout touched Elver’s forehead. She was gentle, and her breath was warm.
I was a fool. I sensed love for another in your heart, and I was afraid for you.
Elver felt her cheeks grow hot. It was strange, she thought, that even when you were dead you could blush.
‘That’s no excuse,’ she said. ‘And I won’t forget it.’
I will earn your forgiveness, poison child.
Elver nodded.
‘Why do you hate them so much? They are jih too, the Sleepless. Artair and Lucian, they are both yours.’
They are not my chosen. They are a shadow of what you are, child.
‘What do you mean?’
Sometimes, a human soul becomes lost on its way to the shadowed lands, and I snap it up, before the Hooded Crow can harvest it. It pleases me to hide them inside living human bodies. It vexes the old Crow that he cannot find them.
‘Why?’ Elver shook her head. ‘Why would you do something like that?’
To vex the old Crow. Was that not clear? He did me a grievous injury once, and he must pay for it forever.
To her own surprise, Elver felt a wave of anger move through her, banishing the cold of the bleak shore.
‘We’re not just… bargaining chips for you to move around. We’re not pranks you can play on other gods. We are alive! Well, usually we’re alive. You’ve no right.’
I have every right , said the Queen of Serpents. I am a god.
Elver sighed. The anger left her abruptly, leaving a weary kind of exhaustion in its wake. When she did not reply, the serpent’s long purple tongue flickered out, tasting the air.
You sulk, poison child, but every moment away from the mortal realm makes sending you back harder. Do we have a deal? Will you accept this new life?
‘Yes. Send me back. Remake me.’
Very well. I will give you a new heart, Elver of the Jih Forest. Do with it what you will, but remember always that it belongs to me. One day, I will tell you to leave the human world behind entirely, and become fully the creature you were meant to be. On that day, you will not defy me.
It didn’t feel like much of a choice: remain in the shadowed lands forever, never seeing Artair or Lucian again, or get to live for a little longer in the human world, with the knowledge that someday it would end.
Nothing lasted forever, after all. Not for mortals.
She put her hand in her pocket and closed her fingers over the conker.
‘Do it.’
Elver gasped. There was a soft pain in the very centre of her chest, like a knife of glass sliding through her breastbone. The poison that served as her blood seemed to teem just under her skin, as though this new heart had set it aflame.
‘What did you…?’
Remember, monster child. Your heart is my own. One day, you must leave them.
When she woke again, she was lying on the softest moss, the light of dusk lying sweetly all around.
Next to her, there was a creek running with clear water, and she knew in her bones that she was home, that she was back in the Jih Forest. Someone had placed a posy of flowers on her chest, which she picked up and sniffed: inkwort, seven-petal, and monkshood.
All poisonous. She could hear voices coming from nearby.
Carefully, feeling strangely unused to her own body, she got to her feet and followed them, the posy held in one hand.
The forest felt closer than it ever had, the green life of it pressing on her from all sides.
Somewhere close by, she could smell the sharp tang of water—a river, running sweet and strong, the shape of it clear to her without having to see it.
And somewhere to the north, a wider, deeper place, where the water sat cold and black and unmoving.
Somehow she knew that lake, had a new awareness of its watery depths, and she longed to go there, to let the water close over her head and sink herself into the living mud.
Not yet , she thought fiercely. I will live under the sun for a while yet.
It made her wonder though, what other changes were coming.
Artair and Sunay, when she found them, were sitting by a small, smoky fire. Both of them looked worse for wear. Artair’s face was pale and his eyes were red, and his clothes were blood-soaked. The black lines that circled Sunay’s eyes were hopelessly smudged.
‘… it’s always been his delight to mess around with things, to tweak and flip-flop and shock. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that this change was temporary.’
‘I can still feel Lucian there, a little,’ said Artair. At the sound of his voice, Elver felt her heart beat faster. ‘We’re aware of each other in a way we weren’t before.’ He paused. ‘Elver knew. She told me he was no demon and I didn’t listen.’
‘Does that mean you’ll listen to me now?’
It was gratifying to see them both jump out of their skins, but when Sunay burst into tears Elver felt a sharp pang of guilt. Artair got to his feet unsteadily, the last of the colour draining from his face.
‘Elver?’
‘I’m okay, I’m okay.’
Sunay jumped over their small fire, embraced her, then leapt away as though she’d touched something hot on the stove.
‘Ouch! Gods, Elver what happened? We thought you were dead, I collected flowers for you and we put you next to the stream because we thought you’d like that, oh gods, we talked about burying you and putting up a marker but we couldn’t do it because we kept crying and you looked so peaceful…’
Elver laughed. ‘As far as I can tell, I was dead. But the Queen of Serpents wasn’t happy with that, so here I am, back again.’ Her eyes caught on Artair’s blood-soaked clothes. ‘Wait, are you hurt? How badly?’ She went to go to him and caught herself. ‘What happened?’
‘I’m fine,’ said Artair. He seemed unable to look away from her. ‘That is, I was hurt, but Sunay called up a spell to heal me.’