The Lost Gods

Book Three: Stone Rose

Nine gods ruled the world. The Dragons of the Three Storms. Sacred Zhar Ptitka. The Basilisk. The Faerie Queen and Guardians. Holy Licht.

Piedre worships the Basilisk, god of death. Though lost when the gods fell, the Basilisk lives on in the royal family, reborn every few generations as the Basilisk Prince, whose eyes can kill with a single glance…

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Hair the color of slate, skin like marble, deadly eyes hidden from sight, the beautiful and terrible Basilisk.

~The Book of the Dead

Prologue

The tavern was overcrowded with people, choking him with the stench of sweating flesh, cheap perfume, and cheaper alcohol. He sipped his ale in distaste and watched as more people crowded inside, making an already intolerable place sheer torture.

Someone stepped close to his table, looming over him with an air of purpose. He didn't look up immediately, instead took his time finishing his watered-down drink. When he finally decided to pay attention to the figure patiently standing beside him, he faltered, caught himself gawking like a country boy visiting the city for the first time - and he'd not been that for more years than he liked to count. "You're Cortez?"

"Is that a problem?"

He finally recovered, shaking himself and administering a stern, silent reprimand. Still…this did not match what he'd been told. "Not what I was expecting."

"You're a fool for having expectations of a stranger," Cortez said coolly. "Let's talk somewhere else."

Nodding, the man threw some coins down and they made their way out of the tavern and into the crisp autumn night. He pulled a thin cigarette from a battered tin case and lit it carefully in the torch by the front door before they slunk off down the street.

High above a fat moon shone down with unusual brilliance; bright enough the harvesters could see to finish working their fields. Here in the city, however, the light was broken by buildings and lamps, lending an eerie feeling to the atmosphere.

Cortez finally stopped behind an abandoned store - the sign hanging over the door said it had once been a hat shop. "So what can I do for you?"

"You'll do anything?"

"I'm no assassin. Nor do I torture. Nothing of that sort. But otherwise? Depends on the price," Cortez responded, voice still cool.

The man chuckled softly. Sour smoke from his cheap cigarette filled the space between them, tasting especially foul against the chill autumn air. Winter was not far off. Above them the moonlight was suddenly devoured by clouds, throwing everything into darkness. Everything was still, relatively silent - just late enough for everyone to be in the taverns but not yet stumbling home. "Oh, you'll like the price," the man said, and whispered a number.

Cortez gave no reaction. "What's the job?"

Still keeping his voice whisper-soft, the words only just audible to Cortez, the man explained the job he wanted done, the glowing end of his cigarette moving rapidly in the dark as his hands moved with his words.

"That explains the price," Cortez said dryly when he finished. "Tell me what I need to know."

The man finished his cigarette and stamped it out in the dirt. He reached into his coat and pulled out a leather pouch. It clinked as he handed it over. He withdrew another, smaller, pouch. "Fifteen percent for the down payment. All the information we were able to gather. Where to meet us."

"Why not do the job yourselves?" Cortez asked, voice somewhere between contempt and amusement.

"We're paying you to do it," the man hissed. "That's all you need to know. Lastly - you've got two months, understand? If you screw up…"

"I won't," Cortez said sharply, and tucked the pouches away. "Pleasure doing business. See you in two months - with the rest of my money."

The man chuckled again, as if he were having a grand joke at everyone else's expense. "In two months, aye." Turning on his heel, the man vanished back the way they'd come.

Sighing softly, Cortez followed after him but back on the street turned the opposite way. "Fidel is going to kill me."

First fell the Storm Dragons, betrayed by one they trusted, their power broken, Sealed away.

In the opportunity created by the raging storms, the people of Pozhar overthrew Zhar Ptitka and vowed that never again would they need a god.

Across the chaotic seas the people of Piedre trembled in fear, huddled together in their homes while the world shook beneath them and storms raged above them, certain that their god had finally let loose the full fury of his terrible powers but unable to understand why.

Many days passed, the people growing more fearful and panicked as it seemed the destruction would continue on forever.

Then, one day, it simply stopped. The skies cleared, the oceans calmed, the land stilled.

Creeping from their shelters, the people ventured out into the world that was at once both familiar and strange. The landscape had changed - where there had been green was only stone, and where had been water was only earth, what once had been barren rock was now fertile land.

Gradually the people of Piedre realized that their god was nowhere to be found. Priests said his presence had vanished…that it seemed their god was dead.

Why, the people wondered, would their god rain destruction down upon them only to die himself?

For many days they searched in vain for some clue as to their god's demise. On the verge of giving up, they at last lighted upon a secluded temple, one they had never seen before, hidden high and deep in the mountains. There, to their horror, the people did indeed find the body of their god - still and unmoving, unchanged, as though he were carved from stone…

His deadly eyes uncovered, a shattered mirror beside him, the people soon realized their fearsome Basilisk had killed himself.

The priests, upon seeing this, declared their god was not the cause of the destruction - indeed, it was clear he had sacrificed himself to save them. Still others said the Basilisk was indeed the enemy, and that someone else must have tricked him into gazing upon his own terrible reflection.

For days the arguments continued unabated, but at last the priests insisted that good or bad - a god was a god and should so be honored. If he had saved them, then of course he should be honored. If he had turned against them, then perhaps the honor would soothe the remnants of his anger.

To this, all agreed, and so they made preparations to bury their fallen god with full honor, filling the temple with all manner of tribute, placing him carefully in the center of the room upon an altar.

Placed into his hands was the only other object found in the empty room, lying between the dead Basilisk and the shattered mirror - a single, perfect rose, carved from some strange stone. It brought tears to the eyes of those who gazed upon on it, and all agreed it was the most beautiful thing to ever exist. With great reluctance they left it with the Basilisk, fearful of what might happen should they take it.

Their god buried, the people departed to rebuild their homes and lives. Over time the temple was forgotten, its location lost, its existence turned to legend…

Many generations later, a child was born into the royal family. He had pale grey hair, alabaster skin, and eyes that seemed to stop a person in their tracks. Then one day, not long after the child's fourteenth birthday, he looked into a servant's eyes and the man immediately fell dead to the floor. Two more men died before anyone realized what was happening and had the young boy's eyes bound.

Every few generations a Basilisk Prince is born into the royal family, mortal reincarnations of the Basilisk of Piedre, awaiting the day when he might once more reclaim his power as the god of stone, the god of death and destruction.

 

Part One

Death is a period of rest, not an end.

~The Basilisk

Chapter One

They blamed the death on him.

It didn't matter that his grandmother had been seventy-eight, frail and worn from a hard-lived court life. Nor did it count for anything that she'd wanted to die, was tired of coughing into her delicate lace handkerchiefs, was tired of not being able to even eat her favorite foods.

No. All that mattered was that Culebra was the last to see her alive. He was the one she had chosen to spend her last moments with, therefore he must be the reason she was dead. If not for him she would still be alive, cackling and speaking loudly of all her own, old scandals. If not for him, she would have lived to seventy-nine. To a hundred.

There were no whispers, not yet. Even the most obnoxious in the assembled would not whisper while the priest read the funeral rites. Culebra could feel the stares, though. Cold, curious gazes crawled across his skin like poisonous insects.

His fault they would whisper later. They were all his fault. Just like his parents. Just like Granito and the others.

In the air, the smell of roses was sharp. He vaguely remembered them from when he was a little boy, his eyes still uncovered. They were a deep, rich red. Like fresh-spilled blood, Granito had once said. The sort that came from a deep wound, not a shallow flesh wound that only spilled bright, garish blood.

He hated the smell. Roses were the flower of death in Piedre.

Music began to play, a sad and solemn tune his grandmother would have hated, as the priest finished speaking. Now the whispers started. Culebra could picture the way their mouths would move behind gloved hands and black-lace fans.

Incense mingled sharply with the scent of roses, bitter and acrid - funeral incense. Beneath it all he could smell the death.

The corpse of his grandmother, despite the way the body had been dressed. He could smell those decomposing in the Great Cemetery behind the Cathedral. He could smell it looming on someone several rows back, a little to the left. A woman, he thought. It was also on the priest, distant and faint, like just catching a whiff of what the cooks were baking in the wind.

Last night he had smelled it on his grandmother, stronger than ever. Like soured milk. She'd been the only one he'd ever told about the ability to smell death…the only one who had not once held his curse against him. Isabella the Bold had loved her grandson as much as her daughter. She'd asked him if he could smell it on her, and had smiled when he'd said yes.

He had known she would die, but he hadn't killed her.

The whispers said otherwise, but they always had.

Culebra wrinkled his nose as a lesser priest walked by with the incense. Too much. The sharp, bitter smell stung his nose, and would have burned his eyes were they not so tightly bound in bandages and silk. Black silk, to match his robes. He remembered vaguely what he looked like, pale skin and gray hair. Black probably made him look even more frightening, and so unlike his countrymen it would be depressing if he was not already so used to it.

A hand touched his, gently, cautiously. Culebra pulled his hand away, shaking his head. The hand withdrew.

Corinos, asking if he was all right. He wasn't, but he would be anyway.

He wanted the funeral to be over. Isabella - she had never allowed her grandsons to call her 'grandmother' - hadn't wanted this sort of service. She detested the pomp and circumstance, the ostentatiousness. "Flat boring. Never once did I spend a single moment of my life doing boring. I won't spend a single moment of my death doing it either. Blasted priests, they'll shove me in a box and make me be boring. Culebra, my pet, you see to it I have some fun. Hear me? Isabella the Bold will not become Isabella the Boring Corpse.

Thinking of her words almost brought a smile to his face, but if he smiled now the whispers would turn into exclamations. Culebra forced himself to remain politely expressionless. He would visit Isabella later, in the night, and send her off properly.

No roses. No incense. No boring rites. No obnoxious chants.

A sudden scream split the air, shattering the chatting of the priests, the quiet of the temple.

"It almost bit me!" A woman shrieked hysterically. "I almost died!"

Culebra stiffened in his seat as he realized what was going on. It would seem that one of his darlings had escaped…

He stood up slowly, and could feel as all eyes turned toward him. Slowly, carefully, he made his way down the row in which he sat and into the center aisle. Who had shrieked? He knew that tone. Ah. Lady Elisabeth. The twit. "Lady, one moment and I will see to the matter."

"Corinos," Culebra said softly, and allowed his bodyguard to lead him down the center aisle to the row where Lady Elisabeth and several others had been sitting before they scrambled out in a near-panic. He ignored the scents of perfume, sweat, and fear that washed over him. He hated crowds. There were simply too many things that could go wrong.

Halfway down the pew, he stopped and knelt, hands reaching out to touch the body that brushed against his ankles. Gingerly he lifted up the surprisingly heavy snake, stroking its scales, letting it wrap around him. It brushed against his ear, his hair, before finally settling around him like an exotic wrap. It was a heavy but not unwelcome weight. Now Culebra did smile, petting the smooth, slick scales.

This snake he didn't know. A new one, how exciting. He wondered what kind.

Slowly he turned and made his way once more to the center aisle. "I apologize for the disturbance," he said in a low voice to the head priest. "I will take him away. Please continue the service without me." Bowing his head, he heard the swish of fabric, the rustle of movement, as people bowed to him. Turning away, he began walking in the direction of the main entrance.

He tensed as he felt a hand land gently at the small of his back. "I no longer require your assistance," Culebra said levelly, only just keeping frost from his voice.

He felt Corinos shrug in the way the hand on his back shifted slightly. "I beg pardon, Highness, but it began to rain during the service and I would not have you stumbling through mud and puddles."

Culebra grit his teeth and gave a stiff nod. He swore he could smell Corinos's quiet satisfaction, as the hand on his back settled more firmly. Culebra could feel the heat of it even through the layers and layers of his heavy black robes.

"Describe my new beauty?" he said to change the subject, distract himself from the warm touch.

Corinos chuckled softly, and Culebra told himself sternly not to admire it, not to be warmed by it. He missed that sound so…

"She is quite beautiful, Highness. Dark green and yellow scales."

"Green and yellow? That is not native to Piedre…" Culebra frowned in thought, fingers going to stroke and pet his new snake, which seemed almost to nuzzle into his touch. He barely noticed as Corinos gently guided him along the central courtyard and into the palace. "It could not have come in on a ship. Do you think?"

"It would not be the first time," Corinos said, and Culebra could hear the smile in his voice.

Always patient. Always kind. Corinos knew him better than anyone. Understood him. Knew why he acted the way he did. Culebra wanted nothing more than to accept all that Corinos had more than once offered him. Only once had he come close to giving in.

He couldn't give in. He was cursed. Granito had died because of him. That Corinos did not hold it against him only made Culebra love him more. Made it that much harder to say no.

He knew from the smell - clear, bright, free of the foul smells that permeated the rest of the palace - that they had arrived at his sanctuary. He jerked away from the hand still resting at the small of his back. "Thank you, Corinos."

"You are welcome, Highness. I will wait for you."

"That won't be necessary. I can call for you. Return to the service." Culebra turned and slowly pushed open the door into his sanctuary.

Inside he was greeted by the smell of fresh water, plants, and sun-warmed rock. He had never seen it, but he knew from touch that the entire sanctuary was made of glass. In the warm months, the sun shone through and kept everything as warm as his darlings preferred. The multitude of plants, water, and rocks gave them both warm and cool places to recline.

So quiet. Nothing but the splash of water and the rustle of plants met his ears, though if he listened close he could tell when his snakes moved.

He knelt and let his newest companion slither down his arm, then stood and walked toward what he knew to be almost exactly the center of the vast sanctuary. Exactly how many snakes he had, he wasn't certain. Hundreds. Nearly all of them venomous. Not a single one had ever tried to bite him. Nor would they.

More than once they had been quite willing to bite for him. A great many nobles and visiting dignitaries had no idea how very close they had come to death, for daring to upset the Basilisk Prince.

His people might fear, even hate him - but he would always have his darlings.

As he reached the center of the sanctuary, Culebra slowly bent down and slid onto a large boulder. It was old, worn down by water and time, moved to the palace decades ago by the last Basilisk Prince, curved perfectly to make a place for him to lay.

He stood back up, briefly, to shuck off all but his thin, linen under robe. He heard one of his shoes splash faintly into the water of a nearby pool and moved to retrieve it, laying it atop his discarded clothing before finally stretching out on his stone bed.

In mere seconds snakes gathered, all lengths and sizes. Some curled up on his legs, others along his side. Two wrapped up together on his belly, three more wound around his neck and shoulders. Still others twined about his arms.

More than once a servant had dared to open the only door leading in or out of the sanctuary, only to shriek in panic to see him covered in snakes. Over time, the panic had faded away to resignation. The fear never did - no one, not even Corinos, would venture into the sanctuary of snakes.

It was the only place where he was not feared or hated. Here, he was loved and could love freely. His snakes had nothing to fear from him. They knew him, knew from whom he was descended and loved him for it.

Culebra reached up to pet the one which rested with its head on his right cheek, his left pressed against the sun-warmed stone. He had intended to stay only a moment, to see that the new one was well-situated…but it was so warm and quiet…

He woke much later, when he could feel that moonlight rather than sunlight shone down upon him. The snakes shifted, moved way, as he slowly stood up. "Sorry, my beauties. I must go. I'll return to you again soon."

Not bothering to even try to redress himself, Culebra bundled up his clothes and hastily crossed to the door. Pulling it open, he stepped through - and caught too late the scent, crashing right into the hard, muscled chest of his bodyguard. "I told you not to wait," he said. He tried to sound firm, annoyed, but all he felt was contrite - he'd known Corinos would ignore him and wait.

"You should not be walking about so, Highness. It is far too cool out."

"I'm fine," Culebra said, but he could hear and feel the way Corinos moved, the swish of fabric as Corinos stripped out of his own robe and draped it over Culebra's shoulders. "I have my own robes right here, Corinos."

"They are soaking wet, Highness. You should not leave them on the ground, your pets ruin them every time."

Culebra did not protest as a hand settled at the small of his back and began to guide him away from the sanctuary. "They are simply eager to see me."

A soft chuckle. "Tell them their affection is best shown by not ruining your clothes."

"At least I don't go completely naked," Culebra said without thinking. He winced as his own words struck him, the hand at his back tensing, the fingers digging a moment. "I should not have said that."

Corinos sounded sad as he replied. "You should not say no, Highness. That is the only thing which falls from your mouth that displeases me." His voice was like dark sugar, the thick, soft stuff that was sugar mixed with molasses. His favorite breakfast was buns covered with melted dark sugar, not least of all because they had always made him think of the man beside him.

Now he couldn't stand them. They tasted bitter, sour. Something that had once been sweet, but was now past its prime. "No is what I said, no is what I mean."

"You will not kill me, Cul."

Culebra abruptly halted, turned, and shoved hard - and it only angered him more that he was only able to shove Corinos away because Corinos permitted it. "Do not say such things to me, bodyguard. You cross your bounds. I will find my own way to my rooms. You are dismissed for the evening."

Furious, more furious at the trembling in his hands, Culebra turned and stormed away, counting steps from pure habit, turning as necessary, hands landing upon his bedroom door right before his anger drove him to keep moving and crash right into it. He slid inside, and locked the door behind him.

It wouldn't keep Corinos out, if he felt like entering - his bodyguard knew more than a few little tricks - but it would make it clear that Culebra was still angry.

He was nearly to the closet when he heard the familiar sound of Corinos picking the lock. Never mind the bastard had a set of keys to every room of the palace in which Culebra spent time…he just picked them to prove Culebra could not and would not stop him.

If he didn't love the man so much, Culebra would sic a snake on him. As it stood, he was still awfully tempted. He turned and folded his arms across his chest, and waited.

"Highness," Corinos greeted calmly. His feet were almost soundless as he padded across the room. He smelled of leather and steel, a faint, lingering hint of funeral incense that, on him, did not smell bad at all.

Culebra recoiled as he drew too close for comfort. "I believe I told you, bodyguard, that you were dismissed."

"I thought you would like to go see your grandmother, Highness, now that the rest of the palace is asleep and will not upset you."

Scales and teeth, he hated that this man knew him so well. "I can go myself."

"It is raining quite heavily, Highness."

Which meant he'd be disoriented, and that meant he would need Corinos's help. "Very well," he said ungraciously.

He felt and heard Corinos move, and then he was being undressed. Corinos's hands were assured but gentle.

Culebra shivered as he stood nude in the middle of his room, hugging himself as he heard Corinos move to the wardrobe. Then he was back, and helping Culebra slide into soft, warm linen and fine wool.

"Fall has been temperate," Corinos said idly, "which means winter will be harsh."

Nodding, Culebra slid into the shoes that were held for him, one hand resting on Corinos's shoulder for balance. "Perhaps there will be snow for my birthday."

"Undoubtedly, Highness."

The thought of snow tricked a smile from his face. He loved snow - cold but so soft. The way it caught in his hair, melted on his cheeks.

So very different from the water it began as…Culebra shifted his thoughts before they could turn down a dark path.

The water in his sanctuary was one thing. Even rivers did not bother him. Never again, though, would he venture upon the sea…

Snow. He clung to that thought as Corinos draped a rain cloak over his shoulders.

Given that his greatest moment of weakness had been in the snow, he should hate it. As hard as tried, however, he could not. He cut the thought off. "Come," he said sharply, and strode toward the door and out of his room.

Corinos caught up a second later, that cursed hand immediately moving to the small of Culebra's back. Arguing was a waste of effort. Culebra let his bodyguard have his way for the time being.

Eventually the man would give up. Realize he was wasting this time. That he should, in fact, hate the man who was responsible for the death of his adored older brother.

If not for Culebra, Granito would still be alive. He would still be wreaking havoc in the palace, flirting with servants and ladies alike, flouting rules cheerfully alongside the Dowager Queen while the King, Culebra's older brother, bellowed for his royal guard and grandmother to behave.

Granito had died protecting him from raging, ravenous mermaids.

Culebra hated himself. Why didn't Corinos?

"Here we are, Highness," Corinos said softly.

He could smell it - death was a scent that would never elude him. Crypts always smelled the same, no matter how often they were cleaned, how well they were maintained. Nothing mattered. They always smelled of age and rot, of dust and mold. Of lost, forgotten things.

"What does it look like?" he asked softly, reaching out to trace the letters carved into the marble pedestal upon which his grandmother's coffin rested. Her name was carved, and the dates of birth and death. A poem, a pretty, flowery stanza that she would have loathed.

He could see her mouth twist in disgust, a sneer shaping her lips - then she would suddenly burst into laughter and a poem of her own, something hideously inappropriate that would make all the young girls blush, the young boys look nervously at the young girls, and even a few of the jaded adults would flush with guilt - or pleasure.

The Dowager Queen had ruled well and firmly, until she handed it over to her own son - and sadly to her grandson, when the King and Queen had died in their sleep from the strange illness that had swept the country that year. In all those years, even through the sadness, she knew how to dredge up smiles and cries of outrage and loved every minute of it.

Culebra had always been envious of her ability to live so loudly, so colorfully.

"It's rather more simple than I would have expected his Majesty to choose," Corinos said thoughtfully. He moved closer, briefly blocking the heat of the torch he'd set in a sconce upon their entrance to the royal tomb, then knelt beside Culebra. "White marble, the letters are simply carved, not gilded as he threatened." A soft chuckle. "The coffin is dark rosewood, very simple."

"I bet she arranged it all right under his nose," Culebra said, unable to resist a soft laugh of his own. "That's why the ceremony was so pretentious - Pruebas was having his revenge."

"Undoubtedly," Corinos agreed.

Culebra let his fingers slide away from the cold marble, and they brushed briefly against Corinos. He ignored it, and brought his hands together, bowing his head to pray silently. Be warm while you rest, Grandmother. Isabella. When you wake, the sun will be shining. More formal prayer complete, Culebra allowed his thoughts to slide to the more personal. I'll miss you. Thank you for everything. I wish I could fulfill your last promise, Isabella. I cannot. I knew my parents would die. I knew Granito would die. I told you that shortly you would die. All around me I sense death. I am leaving, grandmother. I am sorry."

"I am ready," he said. "We can go." Briefly he thought to protest the way Corinos helped him - he was more than capable of standing up on his own, but telling it to his grandmother made everything real, clear. All too soon, he would never feel Corinos's touch again. Would never smell him, or sense when he was smirking.

He was leaving. Arranging it had taken months, and even now far too many things could go wrong. Whatever happened, however, no one was stopping him. - he was tired of it. Of everything.

Knowing people were going to die, and sometimes even knowing precisely how long they had to live. How did his ancestors bear it? Nor could he take the hateful whispers, that everything was his fault. That everyone he touched or grew close to was doomed to die before their time. More than once he had heard them say it was a miracle that his brother was still alive.

Culebra hated them all. Did they think he enjoyed this existence? That he liked knowing that all he had to do to kill everyone and everything in sight was rip off the silk and cotton bound tightly around his eyes?

He was only human, for all that he was cursed with a terrible power.

Only a month or so more, and all should fall into place. He would finally be free of this place once and for all. He would not have to wait as people died around him. Would not have to await the day when he finally killed himself or let someone kill him.

He would not have to wake up one day and realize that the scent of death clung to Corinos.

So lost in thought was he, that they were back in his room before he realized it. He ordered Corinos away, but as usual was ignored, as Corinos went about dressing him for bed.

"Sleep, Highness," Corinos said gently, and all but shoved him into bed, tugging the blankets up high.

More drained from the day, the funeral, than he liked to admit even to himself, Culebra curled up in his blankets and pillows, chuckling softly at the ponderous weight that shifted and moved beside him on the massive bed.

Ruisenor was the only snake who bore a name. Culebra had never known another like her. She was enormous - at least fifteen feet long, as wide as his hand was long. He had met her when he was only a child, back when he did not have to cover his eyes…mere months before his gaze started to freeze people in their tracks, leave them with splitting headaches.

She was black - true black, the kind that almost looked blue in certain light. Sinuous, elegant, beautiful and deadly. He seldom saw her during the day, only in the early morning and late at night, but if he needed her, Ruisenor was there.

He felt himself drifting off, even his darkest thoughts not able to win against the cozy fire, warm bed, the snake beside him…and Corinos, whom he could hear sit down beside him, back to the bed, head just lying against the mattress.

The stupid man would stay there all night, just because he knew Culebra was still upset about Isabella. Bastard bodyguard, couldn't he see he'd be better off without having to babysit a blind prince? He'd do better, be happier, if he'd just go somewhere else!

That's why Culebra was leaving. He was tired of sensing death, of the whispers…but really it was Corinos. He wanted Corinos to be well and truly happy. He did not want to see the man he loved begin to hate him as everyone else did.

Except Corinos was stupid and stubborn and wouldn't go away like Culebra ordered him. Well, he'd finally figured out how to fix the problem. In a month, Culebra would vanish and Corinos would finally be free.

 

Chapter Two

Corinos waited until Culebra's breath evened out, then stood and moved to sit down beside him on the bed.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, foolish prince.

Corinos was going to throttle him. Then beat him senseless. Then he was going to tie him down and show him in explicit detail just how much Corinos was never going to stop loving him.

Or let him go.

Did Culebra really think he didn't know what the prince was up to? He'd be insulted if he wasn't so livid.

The missives had come only that morning, and Corinos had all but bolted for the sanctuary - where Culebra always spent his mornings - to wring his neck then and there.

He raked a hand through his hair and stifled a sigh.

All day he'd debated whether or not to tell Culebra he was aware of his scheme to run away. In the end, with the funeral and the rumors that of course started flying, Corinos had decided to keep his knowledge a secret.

Let the month pass. Let nothing happen. Then he'd either beat Culebra senseless or actually go through with that whole tying down thing…

Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, Corinos forced his thoughts to behave and looked down at the sleeping prince. Against his will, his hand strayed up to stroke the fine lines of Culebra's fine cheek bones, brush soft strands of gray hair from the dark silk that covered his eyes.

They would have to change the bandages in the morning. He should have done it tonight, but Culebra had looked exhausted. That he'd slept straight through the remainder of the service and the farewell dinner…Culebra was usually good about tending his duties.

Not of late, but that was probably because his depression was running deeper than usual…and also his plans of running away.

He wondered how long Culebra would refuse to speak to him, when he realized that his bodyguard had been aware of his plans the entire time. Hopefully not more than week - that had been torturous.

It was times like this Corinos missed his brother more than ever. Granito could make anyone smile, could ease away any sorrow. No one could remain depressed around his older brother - Granito didn't know the meaning of the word depressed.

For years it had made him jealous. That had ended in the Dowager Queen's apple orchard - him with a broken nose, his brother a black eye, and all misunderstandings resolved.

They'd told Culebra they'd gotten into it with some apple thieves. Every since…he'd been trying to convince Culebra that the prince was being stupid.

So far, he'd gotten one kiss and a great deal of frustration for his efforts.

Granito had said he had more patience than even a god. However, even gods eventually ran out of patience - and Corinos was nearly at the limit if his.

There had to be a faster way to convince a stubborn, depressed prince that giving in to the bodyguard that loved him mind, body, and soul would solve a lot of both their problems.

Every minute of every day Corinos rather thought that the Basilisk Prince was a poor title - Stupid, Stubborn was far more fitting.

Stupid, stubborn, beautiful, wonderful, and so weighed down with his own thoughts that Corinos wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life soothing that pain away. If only Culebra would let him…

He shook his head. Sleep was what he needed, but he didn't trust Culebra not to wake and go wandering at some point in the night. Which just wouldn't do, and thinking about it returned him to that which mattered most.

Keeping Culebra safe.

More than a few groups would like to have the Basilisk Prince at their disposal. Reports had been flying in lately of increased activity from groups that had too long been dormant.

The Brotherhood of the Black Rose had been seen within the royal city, asking questions they shouldn't be asking, stirring up trouble with them.

Everyone had thought the Brotherhood of the White Rose dead - yet more than a few reports had been sent in, dispelling that belief quite firmly, at least in Corinos's mind.

So far he had managed to keep the reports to a precious few, not wanting to alarm the King or Prince until he and the King's men were certain the two organizations were truly going to become a threat. The Roses rose and fell, but seldom did they rise to dangerous levels.

Except that a Black Rose had somehow convinced Culebra that he could spirit him away to the mountains. Corinos had gone cold reading those reports. Then he'd wanted to kill a certain prince.

Now he had to worry about the Black Rose. They seldom turned into real trouble, but when they did - history was painted with the blood they'd spilled.

The Brotherhoods dated back to the days when, according to legend - and who could call it false with Culebra walking around - the people had buried the dead Basilisk, and placed in his hands a single rose that had been lying beside the body.

The people had argued. Some had said the god was responsible for the destruction. Others said he had saved his people.

From those who believed the Basilisk had turned on his own children arose the Brotherhood of the Black Rose. Whenever a Basilisk Prince was born, they were never far away. Often they did what amounted to nothing.

Three Basilisk Princes had died at their hands.

The Brotherhood of the White Rose arose from those who stood in defense of the fallen Basilisk. They fought against the Black Rose. At one point in time they had been a legitimate faith - but time, feuding, and the far more bloodthirsty Black Rose had destroyed them. Or so had been believed until recently.

He'd sent out a few trusted soldiers to investigate the matter more thoroughly. They should be reporting back at the end of the week. Corinos hoped it was nothing more than rumors, ruffians using the Roses simply for the reputation.

If the Black Roses were fully active…

His thoughts broke off as Culebra shifted restlessly beside him, breaking the silence with tortured half-sobs. A nightmare. Culebra had them frequently, ever since a return journey from Pozhar almost three years ago.

Scales and teeth, Corinos didn't know how the prince endured it. He felt sick thinking about it. Until that moment, mermaids had only been part of ancient Kundouin myth…then sailors and travelers had started relating chilling rumors, terrifying stories…those that survived.

Corinos glowered in the dark, as thoughts of the mermaids invariably made him think of the nobles who had all but attacked Culebra upon his return. No survivors, no other witnesses. Only their blind, cursed prince to say that an entire ship full of people had been killed by mermaids - everyone except the prince.

No one else could be found to say the story was true, of course - they had been killed. However, Culebra said that Prince Nankyokukai of Kundou had saved him, taken him to Pozhar, where Piedre had sent a new ship to see him home.

Except that only months after its arrival in Pozhar, Prince Nankyokukai's ship had been lost at sea. It had vanished completely. Some said it had to do with the days-long storm that had seemed to cover the entire world. The faithful and devoted had declared it a sign of the return of the Three Storm Dragons of Kundou.

Only a year and a half ago, Pozhar too had suddenly turned around its opinion on the divine, and declared their Sacred Firebird was not, after all, going to destroy them. Queen Sonya declared he was returned to them, and that the rest of the Sacred Prophecy would some day come to pass.

All that meant to Corinos was that there was no one to tell the suspicious fools of Piedre that their prince had indeed been attacked by mermaids. He needed no such witnesses, but he would enjoy shoving it in the faces of those obnoxious fools.

Beside him, the prince's cries suddenly worsened, and he thrashed on the bed, arms flying out, as if he was lost and trying to find his way. Corinos caught the arms and pressed them gently down, leaning his weight over Culebra until he stilled. He bent his head to speak softly in the prince's ear. "Culebra, it's all right. I promise."

Making a faint, whimpering sound, the sleeping prince turned toward his voice, breath soft, smelling of sweet wine as it washed over him. Corinos sat up before he could do something stupid and painful. In all the years he'd loved the prince, only once had Culebra let slip any sign he felt the same.

Stupid, stubborn princes who thought they were doing the right thing.

Still, he did have one kiss. Corinos was more than willing to consider that progress. After he told the prince his little scheme had been found out, he would start to work harder at settling what lay between them.

Reluctantly Corinos let his hands slide away from Culebra's arm, enjoying the soft skin beneath his rough hands. Culebra would always stand out in Piedre. His skin was perfectly, flawlessly white, hair pale gray and as fine as silk. It was a startling thing to see in a country where everyone had olive skin, dark hair and eyes. He wondered, sometimes, what color Culebra's eyes were beneath the bindings. Would they be dark amber like his brother's? Brown like his father's? Or would they be the same gray as his hair?

Not that it mattered. Culebra's eyes had been covered for as long as he'd known the prince. Though he wondered about the eyes beneath the binding, it was more natural curiosity than any real desire to know.

Something brushed by his hand, drawing him from his wandering thoughts, and in the light of the fire Corinos could just make out the long coil of black that was separate from the surrounding darkness.

Ruisenor. If Culebra had a favorite among his hundreds of snakes, it was the great beast that slept with him every night. Being appointed to the position of bodyguard to the Basilisk Prince of Piedre had forced him to become something of an expert on snakes. He could tell in a moment which ones were venomous, which ones merely squeezed their victims to death…which ones were native to which countries. He had not realized there could be so many snakes in the world. If there was a species unaccounted for, then it was only a matter of time. Just this night, yet another one had appeared - lost in the church while it had sought out its prince.

Culebra had told him once that he could sort of read how the snakes felt. That they seemed to know, too, when he was happy or upset, and who was the source of either. It chilled Corinos when Culebra let it slip one night that he had only to ask, and the snakes would employ their deadly skills to remove all those who upset him.

More than a few people in the palace were more terrified of the Prince's pets than they were of his eyesight.

Thankfully, precious few knew about Ruisenor. The snake vanished during the day - Corinos did not want to know where it went - so the servants never saw her. He was the only one who tended and cared for the prince.

He had no idea where the gigantic snake originated. All his research told him was that no one had ever heard a blue-black snake of such length and size. There were not even accounts of old myths or legends. The snake, as near as he could tell, did not exist.

So long as it did not turn on the prince - something he had to concede was highly unlikely - Corinos did not particularly care. He would also admit that should he fail to keep intruders away, there was no doubt that Ruisenor would appear to take care of matters. A snake of that size…he did not like to think too hard on what sorts of things it could eat if it felt like it.

Though there were days he could cheerfully compose a list and hand it to her with an apology if the food wound up tasting awful.

First on that list would be the Roses. Then all the nobles who needed to learn to keep their disrespectful, foolish mouths shut. Some days he was sorely tempted to tack on Pruebas's name. He was a good King, but a poor brother.

His thoughts were once more broken off as Culebra began to shift again in his sleep, moving restlessly from side to side. Corinos reached out and let his hand rest lightly on his hip, tugging him a bit closer, wishing he could hold him properly. The prince immediately stilled, a telling sign, and Corinos took what joy from it that he could. He smiled faintly at the dark head that moved closer to rest alongside Culebra's. "We take care of him, don't we, dark beauty? Perhaps between us, someday we will make him see reason."

The snake shifted again, and it was probably the late hour that made it seem as though the snake nodded. Corinos smiled faintly and reached up to gently stroke her head - it had taken him months to work up the bravery to touch the gigantic snake. She had, in the end, seemed to say 'about time' but again he thought it must only be in his head. On the other hand, Culebra was quite confident in expressing to him how the various snakes felt…so perhaps she was nodding.

He let his hand slide away to once more rest lightly on Culebra's hip, feeling the warmth of the prince, silently promising to them both that one day he would be able to comfort Culebra properly, finally rid of the wall that the prince insisted stay between them.

*Several minutes later, Culebra stilled, settled, and Corinos knew there would be no more dreams that night. Stroking the prince's cheek one last time, he slid back off the bed and settled on the floor, crossing his arms over his chest, sword laid across his lap.

"Corinos, I have told you a thousand times not to sleep on the floor like that," Culebra said in his ear.

If the prince wanted revenge, then speaking to him in that low, sleep-hazed voice was certainly the way to go about it. Just barely touching him as he sat up was also a clever idea. Stifling a sigh, Corinos stood up and stretched. He scrubbed at his hair and face, longing for a shave. "Sleep well, Highness?"

"Better than idiots who insist on sleeping on cold floors," Culebra retorted, reaching out to pet Ruisenor as the snake slithered off the bed and away to wherever it went during the daylight hours - which was still an hour away. Culebra was not one to sleep for long, usually going to bed late and rising at least an hour or two before dawn. The nap he'd taken yesterday was testament to just how upset by the Dowager Queen's death he really was.

"I slept very well, thank you, Highness."

Saying nothing, Culebra strode across his room and pulled on the long rope in the corner of his room - calling for breakfast, a bath. He would assist Culebra, and once he was eating, set guards while he went to prepare himself for the day.

Dressing Culebra was pure torture - but one he would not give up for the world. In every way Culebra was different from his countrymen. Pale where Piedrens were dark, slender and fine-boned where most Piedrens were of larger, stockier build. No matter how many hours Culebra spent in the sun, he would always be as pale as marble, and no amount of exercise would ever build his muscles beyond a wiry strength that only emphasized his slighter frame.

Yet it was that very strangeness that made him the closest to Piedre - to the god they had worshipped before the gods were lost.

Still, it wasn't his near-divinity of which Corinos thought when he looked upon Culebra. Unlike so many others, he saw only a young man who spiraled down into despondence a little more each day…a young man he wished would realize that Corinos was all he needed to drive away most of that anguish.

Shaking off his thoughts, Corinos crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out a pale, blue-gray robe. Moving to Culebra, he carefully stripped the prince of his sleeping clothes and slid the robe over his shoulders, letting his hands caress lightly as he pulled the cord belt tight and cinched it.

"Corinos," Culebra said sharply.

Corinos ignored the reprimand. "What are your plans for the day, Highness?

Only a few years ago, Culebra had been the exotic face of Piedre to the world - a blind, pretty prince with a sharp mind, he had traveled the world, representing his country in Kundou, Pozhar, and Verde.

Then had come the mermaids - an ancient Kundouin myth come to life in the most awful way. Culebra had held together remarkably well, all through his second journey back across the sea - and that after having first to return to Pozhar. He had kept calm throughout the interviews with his brother and the ministers, through the whispers at dinner…and had broken down entirely in his room when finally he was left in peace.

He had refused to go near the ocean since. The decision had only deepened the rift between Culebra and his brother - not that either one of them seemed to mind. There was very little love lost between them; Culebra too proud and resigned to being disliked by everyone, Pruebas too strict and unbending - and sometimes Corinos suspected envious - to be more understanding and gentle with his little brother.

Granito had always tried to reconcile the differences between the royal brothers, but Pruebas had disliked Granito for his colorful, almost flamboyant ways - traits, he thought, that did not belong in a bodyguard.

Except flamboyant had been exactly what Culebra needed in someone who spent every hour of every day with him. He needed people who laughed and flouted those rules which could be flouted. People who did not care what others thought. Pruebas's greatest flaw was that he cared too much what people thought, and always that led back to what they thought of his notorious brother.

He broke off his wandering thoughts with a shake of his head, realizing Culebra had never answered him. "Highness, have you plans for the day?"

"My beauties, of course," Culebra answered. "After that, I am having lunch with my brother. Then perhaps we might go into town? I wanted to offer prayers for Isabella at her church."

Isabella had been fond of a small, old church tucked away in a corner of the crowded city. She had often - loudly - said it was far more sincere than the pomposity that had built the cathedral in which yesterday's service had been held. She had been quite close with the father who maintained it - his brother had often speculated how close, usually where Isabella could hear and chortle secretively. Occasionally, Culebra had gone with her.

"As you wish, Highness," Corinos replied. "Have you any engagements this evening?"

"None. The council is in session, and I've no desire to attend balls and dinner parties." He could see the way Culebra repressed a shudder. They were something he managed in the days when he had traveled, but he had never liked them. Being blind made it difficult to navigate such things, and more than a little overwhelming. "If I am fortunate, I can enjoy a quiet evening."

Corinos forced himself not to think about what they could - should - be doing on such a rare free night. If he succumbed to such thoughts, he'd have a long, frustrating day in front of him.

His thoughts broke off as servants rapped at the door, and he opened it to admit them, watching carefully as they brought in the bathtub, followed by bucket after bucket of steaming water. "Your bath is ready, Highness," he said as the servants finished and closed the door behind them.

"I noticed," Culebra said, but without heat, the faintest twist of a smile to his lips. He set down the stone he'd been playing with - there were several stones, and other miscellaneous objects - in a heavy porcelain bowl beside the fireplace, kept there for their interesting textures and shapes. Culebra loved to touch them, play with them, memorize every last contour.

Corinos helped him out of his robe and into the bath, keeping his mind carefully blank as he watched Culebra slide into the steaming water.

"You may go," Culebra said, his head bent down as he felt out his washing cloth and soap. "I am in no hurry this morning."

"Nor am I, Highness," Corinos said, and looked away from the sight of Culebra slowly and carefully washing himself. That, however, only made his hearing more acute, and that proved far more torturous.

Sternly reminding himself of all the reasons giving in to temptation was a bad idea, Corinos strode toward the window on the opposite side of the massive chamber and looked into the courtyard.

The royal palace was three stories high, shaped like a rectangle, the last side made up only of the palace gates. Within the palace was a maze of long halls, interconnected chambers, hidden chambers, never mind the stairwells and smaller hallways. Corinos could never quite tell if whomever had designed it had kept safety of the royal family in mind, or not considered it at all. A lifetime could be spent memorizing the layout of the palace, and still several rooms would remain undetected.

No one but a few poor servants were about. Lamps were still lit, spilling intermittent light across the pale cobblestones, dispelling the dark of the early morning hour. Not enough of it, for Corinos's tastes. He could see far too many places where an intruder might lurk.

Granito would have seen ever more. His brother had always been the better bodyguard. That Corinos could not find his equal was the sole reason Culebra had only one bodyguard. Hundreds had been interviewed, but for one reason or another Corinos found them lacking. He had been more than willing to trust Culebra to Granito, but no one else. The two of them had been sworn as his lifelong protectors. He would not replace his brother lightly.

If he were honest, which he must always be for lies could cost lives, he was also becoming less and less willing to share. Culebra was his. To protect. To love.

Even if Culebra was being stubborn and stupid about it.

 

Chapter Three

Culebra stirred reluctantly from his snakes, giving each one that slithered away a fond caress, whispering soft goodbyes as he stood up. He smoothed his hands down his clothes, assuring himself the jacket fell properly, that nothing was on his breeches that should not be. He knew the pants were black, the jacket a soft gray to match his hair with black pearl buttons. Corinos always told him what exactly he wore.

Especially when he was meeting with his brother.

Oh, the days growing up when he had contemplated putting a snake in his brother's bed.

Not a poisonous one, just one of those that looked particularly frightening to most people. So he could hear his brother scream like a little girl.

It had, however, never been worth the repercussions - they would have tried to take the snakes away, or keep him from them. Unbearable, especially when he was a child, because being born the Basilisk left him with even fewer friends than a prince might have. The snakes were all he'd had until Granito and Corinos.

Forcing himself to stop stalling, Culebra gave a last snake a farewell caress and then strode to the door.

"Highness," Corinos greeted quietly, voice soothing Culebra's nerves more than he liked admitting. It always had, right from the very beginning. A hand landed gently at the small of his back, a gesture that was unique to Corinos. Everyone else took his arm, some more gently than others. "Your brother sent word to meet him in the sunroom."

Culebra grimaced. "Of course he did."

The sunroom had been his parents favorite place to spend time simply with each other. Once a private salon, most of the wall and ceiling had been converted to glass panels. It caught sun nearly all day long and was still, as near as he could tell by scent and feel, the soft brown, gold, and cream his mother had chosen.

That, however, wasn't why his brother preferred it. His brother preferred it because it was private; because no one but the two of them ever entered it. If Pruebas lost his temper, or acted in any way less than a perfect king, no one but his loathed brother would be witness.

Pruebas was a good king. He took care of the kingdom, kept relationships with foreign nations smooth and pleasant. The people loved him…he was a very good king.

He was also the most obnoxious brother to ever be born. "Take me too him," Culebra said softly.

"How are your snakes?" Corinos asked as they walked.

"Well enough," Culebra replied, frowning in thought. "Restless. I cannot determine why."

"Perhaps it is the shifting weather," Corinos said. "If I recall correctly, winter is not their favorite time of year."

Culebra laughed softly, unable to help himself. Usually the castle kept the sanctuary warm enough, but one night those on shift had run late in their duties - the cold snakes had fled to Culebra's chambers.

Servants, upon finding the menagerie there, had refused to enter his rooms for nearly a month.

He wished the snakes would flee to him more often.

"Here, Highness," Corinos said softly. He didn't need to say, really, but Corinos was nothing if not thorough.

Culebra nodded. "Thank you." He hesitated, then simply stepped forward on his own, hand landing immediately upon the door handle.

"I will be waiting, Highness."

Ignoring the relief he felt at hearing those word, Culebra strove for impatience. "You have better things to do than stand around a hallway, Corinos. Go do them."

Corinos said nothing, meaning he would be waiting.

Culebra resisted slamming the door shut behind him, but only because that would immediately give Pruebas something to whine about.

"Culebra."

"Pruebas," Culebra greeted, his voice just as stiff as his brother's. Once upon a time it had always hurt to hear that stiffness in his brother's voice when Pruebas spoke to him. Eventually, he had just realized Pruebas didn't know how to speak to him.

He knew how to speak to complete strangers, the nobles of his court…to everyone but his only remaining immediate family.

"What was all that at the funeral yesterday?"

"Yes, I would love some tea, thank you." Culebra moved slowly, knowing the lay of the room but never certain how carefully the servants ensured everything was kept strictly in place. "Is that black beans and corn salad I smell?" It was one of his favorites. Pruebas never had special meals prepared for them; he just ordered the kitchens to prepare something. Culebra doubted the staff just happened to prepare his favorite for their lunch. They would have been a thousand times more likely to prepare Pruebas's favorite. "What do you want?" he asked tiredly. "I can tell already that this isn't simply going to be one of our usual terse conversations."

Pruebas sighed. "You are as suspicious as your hideous pets."

Culebra bit back the urge to defend his darlings, knowing he would be wasting his breath. Piety to the god he purportedly embodied was, apparently, not reason enough to treat snakes kindly. He didn't understand why.

In his experience, humans were far more venomous.

A chill ran down his spine, spilling into a sick feeling in his gut.

Something about that thought frightened him. He should not think it. Such thoughts led to…Culebra swallowed and tried to regain his equilibrium, shoving the strange thought away. "What do you want, Pruebas?"

"Your birthday," Pruebas said levelly.

He had not seen his brother since his eyes had been bound shortly after his thirteenth birthday. When he'd last seen Pruebas, his brother had been a dark, severe boy of sixteen, more interested in learning how to be king than in dealing with his little brother. Pruebas had been a handsome child, and he knew that had fleshed out into a handsome man. Pruebas would never allow otherwise.

"What about it?" Culebra asked. His birthday was never as grand as Pruebas's. It was a much more formal affair, for as much as people might fear him they could not forgot that he was the mortal reincarnation of the Basilisk.

People might disagree on whether the Basilisk had once saved his people or betrayed them, but all agreed a god should not be disrespected. His birthdays were spent allowing the people to see him, to show their continuing respect for their god.

The Basilisk wasn't as the other gods - the chaotic Storm Dragons, the fierce Firebird, the wild Queen and Guardians….nor even like the long lost gentle Licht. The Basilisk was stone, silent and steady. His realm was death, dying…to be under his care was a hard thing.

So offerings and prayers were made, to show that the people might now fear him, but they still respected their god.

For all that, Culebra still enjoyed it. The food, the stupid court had to be nice to him, so many of the common people were simply happy to have something different to do, too awed by him to be truly frightened. To them, he was just a myth come to life - the reality of his eyesight didn't really hit them.

This year it might even snow. Usually his birthday was too early in the winter for snowfall…but oh wouldn't it be fun…

"We are going to have to cancel the ceremonies."

Culebra tensed, hands freezing on the teacup he had finally found - not where it should be, too far to the left. It would have hurt his feelings, except he'd long ago stopped letting his brother get to him. "What do you mean, cancel? You cannot simply cancel…"

"The final reports came in this morning, Culebra. There have been several reliable reports of increased activity within the Black Rose. We've also had reports of the White Rose reemerging. We cannot risk your safety."

"You cannot cancel the ceremony. So many people will have already begun the journey here…and with the weather turning cold…"

"Messengers were sent out just a few hours ago, to begin spreading word that there will be no ceremony this year."

Culebra sat in silence. "Surely precautions could be taken…no one would want to kill me."

"You know very well that killing you isn't what anyone wants, even if the Black Rose is forever saying otherwise. You are being stupid and selfish."

With effort, Culebra bit back his temper. "Ah, yes. I could be a weapon. Does it occur to anyone that if it came to that, I could take care of myself? I'm blind, not stupid."

"You are the mortal incarnation of the Basilisk of Piedre."

"I'm aware of that," Culebra snapped. "If you're trying to tell me, for the millionth time, that I am failing to understand my position, save yourself the trouble. Believe me, brother, I am well aware of it. Far too aware of it. Now you are telling me that my one bright spot in the whole year is to be taken from me because everyone fears the Black Rose."

"You know very well why they are feared," Pruebas said, voice rising a notch. "Do you want end up like your ancestors? Is that it? So busy sulking and moping you cannot see the reality of the situation?"

Culebra curled his hands into fists in his lap. "I know, Pruebas. Better than you might think. I am only saying that I think perhaps you are overreacting. My birthday will not be the cause of my death." He hadn't sensed his own death yet, and he rather thought he would. Something told him…he couldn't, however, tell his brother that. The very last thing he needed everyone to know was that he could sense those who were shortly going to die. That had always been the best part of traveling - away from his homeland, his strange power weakened. He had only just barely felt it, too late, before the mermaids attacked. The ocean…deep seas were not the best place for a stone prince to be. Even with the accompanying agonies, however, he would much rather be at home.

"Such arrogance will get you killed much faster," Pruebas said. "Anyway, I did not say this decision was debatable. It is final."

"Why did no one speak with me first?" Culebra asked, growing angry. "I am the Basilisk Prince, the mortal reincarnation of our most holy lord. The canceling of the ceremony should be my decision entirely; at the very least I should have had a say."

"We think of your safety," Pruebas said impatiently. "Try to be grateful for once in your life."

"Do not speak to me that way," Culebra snapped. "You have no idea how I think or feel about anything. Grateful. You have no idea what that word means. Is there anything else you wanted from me?" Stupid, foolish him for thinking this would merely be a simple lunch with his brother. They met once every week or so, just so everyone could see the siblings were getting along - that there was constant tension between them was not common knowledge.

Pruebas heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, actually. With the high threat of the Black Rose looming, and given we do not know where the White Rose stand or what they will do - I do not think it wise for you to leave the premises until it is believed safe for you to do so."

"So not only are you taking away the ceremony, you are taking away my freedom? Will you attempt to take away my snakes as well? How about Corinos?"

"If your horrid pets disrupt another important ceremony, I will certainly consider taking them away. Perhaps it has escaped your notice, brother, but those things are deadly."

Culebra smiled bitterly. "So am I. Does that make me horrid as well?"

"Do not be ridiculous," Pruebas said dismissively, but his voice held the same faint thread of fear they all did. That anyone could kill if they were pushed far enough, or otherwise motivated, never seemed to enter their thoughts. A dog could kill as easily as a snake. Even a small mouse could do a great deal of harm when it was fighting for its life. No one thought of that. They just saw his covered eyes and feared.

"What else?" Culebra asked in resignation. "Shall I stay in my room?"

"Is there anywhere else you have to be?" Pruebas asked coldly.

"I do my duties!" Culebra said, hands fisting tightly in his lap. "Not once have I ever shirked my responsibilities, brother. I do all that you ask of me."

"Except journey as you did before."

The tension in his shoulders and back was becoming painful. It would take him hours, if not days, to work it all out. "Do not ask that of me," he said, unable to keep the strain from his voice. "If I could do it, I would. I cannot."

"You should overcome your fears," Pruebas said, his voice calm. It was, Culebra knew, the closet his brother ever got to being gentle. Pruebas was an ass, but he was trying to help in the only way he knew.

Unfortunately, his way failed abysmally. All Pruebas did was make it painfully obvious which of them had always lived safe within the walls of the palace, loved and adored, and which of them had been shipped off frequently because his country was afraid. Which one of them had endured anything but a pampered life.

It had always struck him as amusing, for if anyone should have been spoiled and pampered, Culebra always thought it would have made more sense to tuck away the blind prince and keep him happily oblivious. Not that he wanted that, but he wondered if perhaps doing so would have made life easier for everyone.

Not that his brother was completely pampered - no, Pruebas knew how to work hard. He was just obnoxious and insufferable about it.

"Pruebas, we have been over this before. Do not make me bring it up again. Please…"

"I am saying only that perhaps you should consider trying again. You were good at it. You enjoyed it. Hiding away here will not make the fear abate."

"You did not have to listen to them scream," Culebra said, voice dropping to a whisper. "You did not smell the blood, the fear…you did not hear the mermaids. They hate those of us who live on land. I could hear it. I will not go on the ocean again, Pruebas. That my brother continually asks it of me…"

"I want what is best for you."

"You want what is best for you," Culebra said bitterly. "Whether or not the Black Rose take me does not concern you - your only concern is that they not do it where you might be seen in a poor light. You are going to keep me locked up in this castle so that nothing happens to me that might reflect poorly on you. I'm a burden, so far as you are concerned. Life was easier for you when I was kept in other countries."

Pruebas started to speak, but Culebra pressed on, raising his voice to drown his brother out. "So you have taken my ceremony, my freedom, have threatened to take away my 'horrid' pets -are you next going to tell me that Corinos is no longer my bodyguard?"

"By all means keep Corinos," Pruebas said.

Culebra almost smiled, to hear the frustration that slipped into Pruebas's voice. His brother had never gotten along well with either of his bodyguards - Granito for being too flamboyant, Corinos for being too…bodyguard. Nothing kept Corinos from doing his job…and as he too often reminded Culebra, he had very personal reasons for protecting him.

Now was not the time to get distracted by those thoughts. He'd made his decision.

Of course, not being able to leave the palace was going to make things slightly more difficult. He had been planning to meet the man who would help him get away at Isabella's old church. They had arranged to meet to finalize everything today.

"When does my confinement begin? I had planed-"

"Today of course," Pruebas cut in. "Now, if you don't mind, I-"

"Have better things to do," Culebra interrupted in his turn. "Of course. I bid you good day, brother."

"That is not what I meant," Pruebas said sternly.

"It amounts to the same thing." How depressing. He hadn't even gotten a chance to eat.

He wasn't terribly hungry anyway.

"I will see you later," Pruebas said, sounding annoyed…and Culebra thought even weary, but he couldn't say for certain. He understood his brother about as well as he could see him. The door closed with a click, leaving him alone in the sun room.

He remembered vaguely when his parents had been in this room. The way his mother laughed at his father's awful jokes…the way they argued over the various matters of court, his father's not so secret love of scandalous gossip…he and Pruebas had not been allowed in here often, as children, and so had enjoyed their few rare visits.

Somehow, the warmth of it had died with his parents. All he felt now was a slight chill. Pushing his chair back, Culebra turned slowly and walked in the direction of the door. His hand, when he reached out, landed on cool wood, and he slid down until his fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the door handle.

When he opened, he stopped just outside, and held out a hand that Corinos immediately grasped. "Lunch did not go well, Highness?"

"How could you tell?" Culebra asked. He started to protest the hand that slid around to settle at the small of his back, the way Corinos gently pulled him closer, but in the end remained silent.

He didn't, however, relax, or let Corinos pull him too close, leaving them standing awkwardly close in the hallway. It would be so easy, too easy, to just close the remaining space between them and let Corinos hold him…

Reminding himself that he was doing all this for Corinos, Culebra pulled away and forced himself to act as he should. "My brother has confined me to the palace. He has also informed me that my birthday has been cancelled."

"What?" Corinos's voice turned sharp, and something in Culebra eased to hear the slight hint of anger, because some part of him had feared that Corinos had something to do with the decisions. His bodyguard was the living definition of thorough - he would do whatever he thought necessary to protect his charge.

"You didn't know?"

"Of course I knew of the reports, most of them come to me before they ever reach his Majesty…but I did not suggest such measures, Culebra." That he used his name demonstrated just how stung Corinos was by the question.

Wholly without his permission, Culebra's hands reached out to soothe in apology. "I know you wouldn't. I'm just…" Utterly miserable, but he wouldn't say that aloud. It was no one's problem but his own if he wanted to sulk over the fact that he would not get to enjoy his birthday this year.

He'd felt like a prisoner ever since his sight was taken away. Being confined to the palace was not really so awful. He had Corinos and his snakes, and he would figure out how to adjust his plans to run away. Until then, he could wait and do as he was told.

Calloused fingers brushed across his cheek, and Culebra's breath caught. He pulled away, though it took effort. "Don't touch me so, bodyguard."

"Culebra…"

"Don't," Culebra said tightly. "Just don't."

"I'm simply supposed to stand by and do nothing while you drown in misery? Why will you not let me-"

"Because it's a bad idea."

"No, it's not," Corinos said softly. "You're just too hard on yourself."

Culebra said nothing, merely turned and began striding down the hallway. He stiffened when Corinos caught up with him, hand falling into place at the small of his back.

"Are you returning to your room, Highness?"

"Yes," Culebra said, striving to keep his tone indifferent. "My plans to go into town have been cancelled."

They fell silent as they continued walking, broken only as Culebra responded to the greetings extended as they passed people in the hallway. No one stopped him to speak, or even lingered over their greetings, merely did exactly what was necessary and hurried on. He wondered how long they waited until they started whispering.

Back in his room, Culebra moved immediately to the fireplace. His room was a large, long rectangle. At the furthest end was a balcony. Right now, with the cold, both the glass doors and the heavier oak were closed and locked. Even in the heat of summer, Corinos preferred that. Luckily, Culebra could overrule him on a few things.

On that end of the room was a sitting area. He had no need of a writing desk or bookshelves, so it was merely filled with lounging chairs, a deep sofa, all manner of soft, textured pillows and blankets. Many a summer night he had dozed off while listening to the crickets, or to the music spilling in the windows from one of the myriad festivals or parties.

In the center of the room was his bed, with wardrobe and dressing table tucked into a small alcove that Corinos hated because it would be simple for someone to hide there. His bed was large, with heavy drapes that he kept tied back unless the nights were especially chilly. Corinos had told him everything was blue, black, and silver.

His favorite part of the room, however, was the fireplace. Set well back from it was the small table where he usually ate, and where he kept his bowl full of things that were interesting to touch, play with. More than anything he missed being able to read and write. He could still play music, though these days he seldom felt inclined, but otherwise the playthings in his bowl were all that kept him from going completely stir crazy.

Closer to the fireplace were large floor pillows, an idea he'd imported from Kundou. Those were spread out over a deep, soft fur rug that had been gifted to him in Pozhar. The snow that hit Pozhar was worse than he'd ever known anywhere else in the world. It was endlessly amusing that the Firelands knew better than anyone what the word 'cold' meant.

As often as he dozed off by the balcony in the summer, he fell asleep beside the fire in winter. "Corinos."

"Yes, Highness?"

"Have a meal brought. Soup, I think. Tell everyone I am not to be disturbed the rest of the day. Send a note to my brother that I will not be at dinner." He hesitated a moment, and then gave a mental shrug. "Some music would be nice, I think. What is the weather like, Corinos?"

"Dreary. Fall is not conceding gracefully to winter. I think there will be a frost tonight. Shall I summon a musician to play for you, Highness?"

Culebra shook his head. "I do not prefer the stiff music of the court musicians. They are too used to pleasing crowds." Meaning they played the sort of music that was easy to listen to or ignore in favor of conversation.

"Yes, Highness," Corinos said, a smile in his voice.

"Thank you," Culebra said quietly, and turned to stare into the fire so as not to give away his own smile.

Corinos was first and foremost a bodyguard, but once upon a time he had shared the duty with Granito - though they were both nearly always present no matter which one was technically on duty at the time. Their mother had believed firmly in her sons learning more than the 'manly art of solving every problem with violence.' Granito had learned to carve - had, in fact, made many of the objects which filled Culebra's bowl. Corinos had learned music, and was quite proficient with an instrument unique to Piedre - the guitarra. He kept his instrument in Culebra's room, as he seldom bothered to play it unless Culebra asked.

Culebra settled himself more comfortably on the rug, stretching out so that he lay with his arms and head on a pillow, his right side toward the fire. He listened as Corinos sat down nearby - probably sitting so that he could see Culebra, the door, and the balcony - and began to tune his instrument.

"What would you like to hear, Highness?"

"How about one of those harvest songs?"

"As you wish." Corinos played a few notes, checking the strings, getting comfortable, and then slowly fell into a steady, rhythmic tune, ideal for singing while working. Every now and then Corinos would hum or sing along with his playing; he wasn't a great singer, but Culebra would much rather listen to his voice than even the most cultured of the court musicians.

The heat and music tried to lull him to sleep, and he was sorely tempted to give in - then he felt a familiar slithering along his leg, up to his back, until it stopped to coil up between his shoulder blades, head resting on one shoulder. Culebra laughed softly. "Hello, beauty. Come to enjoy the music, too?"

Nearby, Corinos snorted softly. "From the look of her, Highness, it is not the music she is enjoying."

"Enough, Corinos, please."

Corinos sighed. "Yes, Highness." He shifted from one song into another, the second tune a winter song, slower, softer, almost sad, a song of everything vanishing in the cold and snow.

Something about the tune bothered him; always had. He did not like the idea of something being lost like that. Vanished. It wasn't right. Nothing vanished. Winter hid it for a time, but spring always came. "A different one, please," he managed.

"Of course," Corinos said, shifting into another harvest song.

Culebra relaxed, letting out a soft sigh. He hated when his thoughts spun out of control. Sometimes it felt as though there were two different minds in his head. Perhaps there was. He didn't feel like dealing with it, however.

Corinos sang softly as he played, and Culebra focused on his dark sugar voice, letting it drive away all those thoughts he didn't want to deal with.

 

Chapter Four

The pounding had him up and moving before he was even awake, sword drawn and body tensed to attack whoever was intruding.

A heartbeat later Corinos realized someone was knocking hard enough on the door to break it down. He yanked it open and snarled at the servant - then realized the young guard was already terrified enough by whatever had driven him to pound on Culebra's door in the dead of night. "S-sir. His Majesty demands to see his brother immediately."

"Why?" Corinos asked sharply, unable to come up with any positive reason Pruebas would demand such a thing.

"Murder," the guard replied. "A snake fatally bit Lady Marcela."

"Ridiculous." Culebra's voice was sharp and cold as he appeared beside Corinos, hair mussed from sleep, robe only loosely pulled on. "My snakes would never kill anyone. Tell my brother I will be there as soon as I can."

Corinos did not give the guard a chance to reply, closing the door in his face and immediately going around the room to light a few lamps, then to the wardrobe. Pulling out clothes, he strode back to where Culebra waited by the bed. "Highness, what do you think could have happened?"

"I do not know," Culebra said grimly, "but my snakes are not responsible. Pruebas will love having this as a reason to finally get rid of them. Let him try." He reached out and stroked Ruisenor as the snake reared up to rest her enormous head on his shoulder. "Shhh, my beauty…all will be well for the little ones."

"She is troubled, Highness?" It would never fail to amaze him how Culebra understood snakes…how accepting he was of that ability. Snakes had once been revered in Piedre, but that had ceased with the death of the Basilisk, when no one was certain whether or not their god could be trusted.

He tried not to stare at the way Culebra's long, elegant fingers stroked the blue-black scales of the enormous snake. "Of course. She…the other snakes look up to her…sort of in awe. They have never known another like her."

"Has she never told you what she is?"

"She doesn't remember, I think," Culebra said slowly, thoughtfully. "I have never been able to tell for certain." He smiled faintly. "She approves of you, you know. She would not let you touch her otherwise. You should do so more often."

"As you wish, Highness," Corinos said, lifting one brow as the snake turned her massive head toward him. He shrugged and reached out, his much rougher, calloused hand nowhere near as fine looking against her as Culebra's. "I don't know why I appeal."

Culebra smiled sadly but did not reply.

Oddly enough, the sad smile cheered Corinos up. In his mind, there could only be a handful of reasons such a possessive snake - and it was obvious Ruisenor considered Culebra to be hers - would bother to 'approve' of someone. At least, he hoped.

He knew, on some level, but Culebra was always fighting it wasn't he? Always pushing Corinos away…

Though he wanted badly to push it, he knew to let it be. "Here, Highness. I've chosen just black breeches and a white shirt."

"Simple is best," Culebra agreed and obediently stepped away from Ruisenor to let Corinos dress him. He sat down once his clothes were on so that he could tug on his boots.

Corinos tugged him up once he was finished, unable to resist letting his hands linger just a moment too long - then he grabbed the jacket he'd set aside and helped Culebra into it. "Come," he said, and settled his hand on Culebra's back to guide the prince as they traveled quickly through the halls.

Eventually they reached Lady Marcela's room. Inside waited Pruebas and three guards.

"Culebra," Pruebas said icily.

Corinos wanted to punch him. He hated when Pruebas spoke that way - as if Culebra were to blame for everything. He knew most of it was simply that Pruebas was as intimidated by his brother as everyone else, but with the doubly difficult position of being both king and his brother. The three year difference and Culebra's uniqueness had kept the brothers from growing close as children…and the gap seemed to widen every day.

He stifled a sigh and shoved the thoughts aside. Right now, there were other things to focus on.

"Pruebas," Culebra said. "What has occurred?"

"One of your wretched pets has killed Lady Marcela."

Culebra frowned. "My snakes would not do that." He suddenly knelt and extended one arm - from beneath the bed slithered a golden-brown snake. It immediately wound up and around Culebra's arm, finally settling like a loose scarf around his neck. "This snake did not kill her. He is not even one of mine - until now. He was taken from the woods and brought here…they fed him a poisoned mouse to keep him sedated long enough….he was placed here."

"How do you know all that?" Pruebas demanded.

"He told me," Culebra said softly, head turned in the direction of his brother. "Snakes don't lie."

Pruebas sneered and Corinos bit back another urge to wipe it from his face. Truly, he always tried his best to bridge the gap between the brothers. Pruebas had his good points….his bad points just frequently made the good hard to remember.

To avoid punching Pruebas, Corinos took another look at the snake twined around Culebra, confirming what he'd seen at first glance. "Majesty, what his Highness says aside, that snake could not have bitten and killed Lady Marcela."

"Oh?" Pruebas asked, clearly not believing him.

"There are many old volumes detailing the types of snakes that live in Piedre, as once our country held them quite dear. I have studied the volumes extensively, in order to know the creatures which his Highness loves, and am quite familiar with them. That particular snake could not have killed her because it is not venomous."

Culebra murmured softly and the snake moved down his arm again, rearing its head and opening its mouth as Corinos continued to speak softly.

"See its teeth? Not the fangs of those who kill with poison. Nor does it have the glands which hold the poison. This snake strangles its prey."

Around them, the room fell silent.

"Yet there are bite marks on the neck," Pruebas said stubbornly. "Nor is there anyone but you to say this snake is not poisonous."

"If you want to see a poisonous snake," Culebra said, matching the cold tone his brother had earlier used, "I will be more than happy to call one for you."

Corinos moved toward the bed to examine the corpse, one eye on Culebra. "Was the room thoroughly searched?" he asked the guards, not taking his eyes from the body.

Lady Marcela had been a beautiful woman, one of those who only grew more beautiful with age. She had a sharp wit that she'd never been afraid to use. No husband, more lovers than anyone could count. She had admired the Dowager Queen immensely. How sad that someone had killed her…

The bite marks were low on her right forearm…they did indeed look like a snake had attacked her…but it made no sense. It was stupid. Absurd. Whoever had done this clearly had not bothered to learn anything about snakes first. Foolish. Suspicious. Corinos frowned and began a more thorough examination, shifting aside the heavy braid of her hair, examining her dark skin, her nightdress. He threw aside the blankets and dispassionately opened the robe, ignoring the shocked, offended gasps from the guards. "Who found her?" he asked - but didn't hear the reply as his gaze landed on the inside of her left thigh. A tattoo.

Of a white rose in full bloom. His breath hissed out between his teeth. "She bears the mark of the Brotherhood of the White Rose."

"What!" Pruebas said, almost bellowing. "That is not possible."

Corinos looked to the guards. "Out. Guard the door."

"Yes, sir," the guards said hastily, all but fleeing the room at his sharp tone.

"How would you know it's not possible?" Corinos asked. "Majesty?"

Pruebas rolled his eyes. "How do you think it's possible, Corinos?"

Corinos kept his expression blank. It was no concern of his who the king decided to bed…though he wondered what sort of lover failed to notice such a detail. "The tattoo is not recent, Majesty."

"Well, she certainly didn't have it, oh…three months ago?"

"I see," Corinos said thoughtfully. "That only creates more questions. I would prefer to have answers."

"As would we all," Pruebas said with a grimace. "As to answer your earlier question - the shortest of the three guards you just frightened from the room was invited to Marcela's room tonight. He slipped in a little while ago and found her dead, or so he says. Given his state, I am inclined to believe him. He fetched two of his friends, and they opted to fetch me, given the nature of the killing. I had them fetch Culebra."

Culebra had remained silent during the discussion, simply listening and cuddling the snake in his arms. "What else do you see, Corinos?"

"The bite looks like a snakebite," Corinos said, "but I don't see how anyone could expect the deception to last long with you in the palace. No snake of that size would ever bother attacking a full grown woman in her sleep. They'd be far more likely to invade her room for a particularly juicy mouse…and there's no need when food aplenty is available in the sanctuary. This murder makes no sense."

"No other signs of death?" Culebra asked softly. "There is a strange smell in the air. Faint, sickly sweet."

Corinos frowned. "I do not smell it."

"Guide me to the bed," Culebra requested, holding out a hand.

Immediately Corinos moved to take it, tugging Culebra close and guiding him to the side of the bed. He noticed the way Pruebas recoiled when Culebra bent down over the body and breathed in deeply.

Pruebas would never be comfortable with his brother, and that ensured that no one else would be either. Did he not realize that? No one knew the extent of the antagonism between them, but everyone knew there was something unhappy, and that made everything worse for Culebra.

Problems for another time. "What do you smell?" he asked.

"Sickly sweet, very faint…here…" Culebra reached out carefully, but with confidence in the action he was taking. His fingers landed on the tattoo of the white rose.

Corinos immediately reached out and snatched his hand away, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping off Culebra's fingers. "You just touched her tattoo. It could be poisonous. We need to wash your hand."

"It won't kill me," Culebra said quietly. The certainty in his voice was chilling - he said it the same way he had once told Corinos that his snakes would kill on Culebra's command.

"Be that as it may, Highness, I would be happier if you washed your hand."

"As you wish," Culebra said, and Corinos stilled in surprise that Culebra would use his own words. He tucked it away to ponder later, and led Culebra to the washstand near the bed. He dumped out the water already in the bowl and poured fresh from what remained in the pitcher, then handed Culebra a clean towel from the shelf below. "Here, Highness."

Culebra taken care of, he returned to the bed and contemplated the tattoo. He wiped it with his handkerchief, which he then held to his nose. There is was. A faint, sickly-sweet smell. Poison that could go through skin…he had, of course, heard of such things. Not in relation to the Brotherhoods, however. Still, things changed over time. Was this something the White Rose had done? A trick of the Black Rose? That seemed far more likely…though that still left far too many questions. He heaved a frustrated sigh. "This is explaining nothing. Majesty, I would say-"

"I know what to say," Pruebas said coolly. "I will keep everything as quiet as possible; I expect you to figure out what happened and why someone desired to frame my brother."

"Yes, Majesty," Corinos said.

"It is time to go then," Culebra said. "I know you are king, Pruebas, but that does not mean you may order my bodyguard around. Investigating what happened to Lady Marcela risks taking him away from his first duty, which is protecting me. In light of our conversation this afternoon, that seems an exceptionally stupid thing to do."

"Watch your tone."

"Oh, I was most careful about which tone I used," Culebra retorted. "Corinos is mine. If you want to give orders, fetch the guard you should be dismissing for consorting with a courtier."

Pruebas's tone was condescending as he replied, "If I did that, I would have very little staff left, my naïve little brother."

"If you dismissed them, the rest would be more inclined to behave."

"Now is not the time," Corinos cut in sharply. "Highness, I think we are ready to return to your room, if that suits you."

"It suits me fine."

Corinos bowed to Pruebas, who ignored him, and guided Culebra from the room. "Thank you, Highness."

"He should not speak to you so," Culebra said. "He has thousands of guards and other staff who are fit to investigate a murder with complete discretion. He had no business snatching away my bodyguard."

The possessiveness went a long way toward soothing Corinos's mood. "I also thank you, Highness, for helping me determine the cause of death. I could not smell the poison until you pointed out where it lay."

Culebra shrugged. "My senses are acute, especially my sense of smell…" His voice dropped to a thin whisper. "Especially where death is concerned."

"Highness," Corinos frowned, wondering what Culebra really wanted to say. Something was bothering him. Pressing him on it, however, would only guarantee the prince remained silent. "Your new snake is quite lovely. Golden-brown, thin…some sort of larger garden snake, I believe. Did you want to take him to the sanctuary?"

"No. I think I'll keep him in my room tonight." Culebra frowned. "It is my turn to thank you, Corinos, for so quickly pointing out how ridiculous it was to think this snake killed anyone. He obviously wasn't going to listen to me."

Corinos ran his fingers in slow circles along the small of Culebra's back. "No one will take away your beauties, Highness. I think if he tried, your brother would only find his own room flooded with them night after night until he permitted them to return to the sanctuary."

Culebra threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing down the silent halls. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but his chuckles still did not abate for several more minutes. "That would be a fine sight, to see snakes flooding Pruebas's chambers. My brother would have an apoplexy. Can you imagine his face should he find Ruisenor in his bed?"

"I think we would discover just how fast his Majesty can run," Corinos said with a soft chuckle of his own. It took every last bit of his willpower not to stop them right there in the hallway and taste that laugh, that smile. So rare, to see Culebra happy or amused, and he liked being the one who had done it. His hand tightened unconsciously where it lay against Culebra's back.

"So what are your thoughts?" Culebra asked as his laughter finally faded.

"I think whoever tried to make it look as though your snakes killed her did not expect us to realize the tattoo was the cause. It was glaringly obvious a snake did not kill her…but without your nose everyone would have seen no other cause of death, and the snakes would have been blamed regardless. I cannot see the reasons, and that is frustrating. Not once have I ever suspected Lady Marcela of such things. It is rare for any of the nobility to dirty their hands by getting involved with the Brotherhoods…at least to the point that they wind up dead in their beds.

"Now I am curious as to why she was fond of Isabella…and why she slept with my brother."

Corinos grimaced. "I do not think we need to wonder, not if she truly was a White Rose." He opened the door to Culebra's room as they reached it.

"It makes me wonder who else I know has joined leagues with the Brotherhoods."

Corinos hesitated, then sighed and closed the door, then turned to face Culebra. "The priest you've been working with to run away was a Black Rose."

Culebra froze. "You knew."

"Of course I knew," Corinos said quietly. "I am your bodyguard. It is my duty. I love you. I would not let you run. Not from me." He reached out to take Culebra's arms.

The prince jerked way, recoiled, retreated to his bed, sitting down hard, arms going immediately to the massive snake that looped once around his waist. "You knew this whole time," he said, voice hard with accusation. "When were you going to tell me? When it all came down around my ears and I was left looking like a fool? Hoping to teach me a lesson, bodyguard?"

"No," Corinos said sharply. "Do you think it made me happy to learn that you were trying to run from me? That you cared so little about all I have ever offered that you would simply vanish in the night? Why, Culebra? Why do you constantly hide and run from me? I know you love me."

"Stop it!" Culebra said, nearly shouting, burying his head in his hands. "I can't. You shouldn't. I have said it a million times, it is a bad idea."

"Why?" Corinos demanded. He strode to the bed and pulled Culebra to his feet, heedless of Ruisenor, who merely unwrapped herself from Culebra and coiled up in the bed. Corinos tightened his grip as Culebra started to struggle. "Why is it a bad idea? Do you trust me so little? Have I not made it clear a thousand times that I love you? That nothing about you repulses me? I have always tried to be here for you, Culebra."

"Who ever said I didn't trust you?" Culebra said bitterly.

"Culebra…" Corinos sighed and let go of his arms, sliding hands over his shoulders and down his spine, wrapping his arms around Culebra's waist, ignoring the prince's continued protests. "I have said before you will not kill. Do not tell me you believe the foolish curses. I have lived this long."

"Of course I don't believe in what everyone says. I know how I am and am not cursed. Let me go."

"I will not," Corinos said softly. "Not until you see reason."

"Reason?" Culebra laughed sadly, half-wildly. "I have plenty of reasons. My parents. Isabella. G-Granito. All of them."

"You did not kill them."

"I may as well have," Culebra said.

Corinos frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Let me go, Corinos, please."

It was the desperate 'please' that made him, the wrenching, desperate plea too startling for him to think to refuse. "Culebra, what is wrong? You are not responsible for their deaths."

Culebra immediately moved away, arms wrapped around himself as if in an effort to ward off a chill. "I knew they were going to die, though…except Granito. I didn't sense his death, not until too late. I always…smell it. Feel it. Months before it happens."

He tried to process what Culebra was saying and could not. Surely not. No one could bear such a burden. "You…can sense who is going to die? When?"

"Not when. Not exactly. Just whether it is months or weeks or days away." Culebra licked his lips. "I only ever told Isabella. She asked me…I told her yes…"

"Granito?" Corinos asked.

Culebra shook his head furiously back and forth. "When we left here - nothing. Being away from Piedre always…dampens everything. We were in Kundou for months, and my….power…goes dormant there. So too in Pozhar. On the journey home, I did not sense it until we woke when the mermaids attacked."

Pain lanced through Corinos as he realized just how deeply Culebra's suffering ran. "Culebra, why did you never tell me…"

"How could I?" Culebra said, backing away as he heard Corinos moved forward. "How could I tell anyone? Do you know what it's like? To know that someone is going to die but not being able to say? Not being able to do anything? If people knew…they would expect me to change things. I can't do it. I can't!" Culebra backed up into the door, then slid to his knees.

Corinos ached to help him up, to hold him close - but he sensed that to do it now would not help at all. "You've tried."

"No," Culebra said, and Corinos felt a sudden chill. Something about the prince's voice had suddenly changed, as quickly as that. It was firmer. Deeper. "To tamper with lives so is to go against the decisions we made. My power is not to be abused so. I sense death. Nothing more."

"Highness…"

"Back to Highness?" Culebra asked sadly.

It made Corinos blink, stare. The prince he knew stood before him, no sign of the strange moment present.

"Every day I wake up fearing I will smell death on you, Corinos. Do you know what that would do…"

"Culebra-"

"Leave me alone! I am going to my sanctuary. Do not disturb me." With that, Culebra yanked open his bedroom door, then slammed it shut behind him.

Corinos let him go, for once, frowning in thought. He sat down on the edge of Culebra's bed, slowly processing all that the argument had revealed. At least now he understood the reasons for Culebra's reticence, the way he constantly fought against what was between them.

As usual, Culebra had been attempting to fight all his battles alone - and a burden as heavy as sensing who was shortly going to die was something no person should have to endure.

Except that one chilling moment that Culebra seemed not to recall had made it crystal clear that Culebra was no ordinary person. Far more than the deadly eyes of the Basilisk resided in him. He wondered if Culebra realized it.

He wondered what it meant.

More than any of that, he wondered how he was going to convince Culebra that none of it mattered to him…though it wasn't about him, was it? Culebra had all but said he could not bear it to someday smell death on Corinos. Didn't he see, though, that keeping his distance only made everything worse?

Let Culebra have some time to himself, amongst his snakes. He would fetch him in a few hours and they would work everything out. Somehow. Corinos tensed as a ponderous weight wrapped around him, and then he found himself staring into the hooded eyes of Ruisenor. "Lady…" he said cautiously, slowly lifting up a hand, tensing as a long, forked tongue flicked out. Then Ruisenor leaned ever so slightly forward, nudging his hand, and he slid his fingers over her head, down her shining blue-black scales. After a moment, the snake bobbed its head, then turned and slithered away from him toward the fire, curling up on the fur rug. She looked for all the word like the gigantic shadow of some strange, unseen creature.

Corinos shook his head, tired from all that had happened that night, and grabbed his sword before moving to join Ruisenor beside the fire. He would force himself to wait a few hours, and then go fetch Culebra. His safety was not an issue - no one went into the sanctuary. They would not dare.

 

Chapter Five

Culebra cursed himself for being stupid and weak as he stalked through the halls of the palace. Why had he broken down? For so many years he had kept his darkest secret from everyone but Isabella. Now because of one stupid argument, he broke down and told the one person he'd least wanted to know?

He couldn't believe Corinos had known of his plans the entire time. It made him feel a thousand times stupid. Trapped. Well, fool him for thinking he could ever get away. He should have known better. There was no escaping what you were born into.

Not true part of him whispered. Gave it up so there could be choices…

He shook his head in a desperate attempt to clear it of the strange, echoing thoughts. They had no place in his head. Wasn't he enough of an outcast?

Loneliness…

With a snarl, Culebra turned his thoughts elsewhere. Scales and Teeth, there should be only one voice in his head! He should not have to share space with a dead god. He sternly ignored the voice that tried to remind him that he was, to some degree, the dead god in question. For reasons unknown, the reincarnation of the Basilisk continued to be born. Some said there would come a day when the true Basilisk would finally return…Culebra wished he would hurry up and do it and stop whispering in his head. His own voice was already more than he could stand.

The air in the hallways was chilly. He sorely regretted stripping out of his jacket - though at the time he'd had no idea he would be leaving again. Thankfully the sanctuary would be nice and warm…and well away from everyone and everything that hurt. Culebra counted steps and turned, reaching out his fingers to touch - yes, the candelabra that should be there. Only a few more turns and hallways.

He tried to ignore the silence that surrounded him, trying and failing to convince himself that he wasn't waiting to hear the sound of a familiar tread, a familiar jangling of sword and belt. He most certainly wasn't waiting for a certain warm hand to land upon the small of his back. The very last person he wanted to see right now was Corinos, who no doubt was horrified at what Culebra had just told him. Forty paces to the end of the hall and his hand fell upon the handle of his sanctuary.

Breathing a soft sigh of relief, Culebra opened the door - there was no reason to lock it - and stepped inside.

Immediately his head was flooded with noise, his snakes more vocal and excited than he had ever heard them. He gasped as he sorted out what they were telling him. Snakes didn't communicate as people did; they conveyed thoughts more as smells, impressions, for they could not see as most creatures. It always took him a moment to sort out what they were trying to say. When he finally realized it, he checked thrice more and still could not believe it. "There is someone here."

A voice laughed, and Culebra drew a sharp breath.

He'd never heard a sound like it. The voice was…rough, almost broken sounding. It was as if something had ruined the stranger's ability to speak properly. Cautiously Culebra moved forward, reaching automatically to pet all the snakes that twined up and around him, half-listening as they cautioned him on where not to step. "Who are you? How is it you come to be here? Why are you here?"

"You are early, Highness," the stranger said, and Culebra was more convinced than ever that something had happened to almost completely ruin the speaker's ability to use his voice. "I did not expect you until morning; that is when I was told you always visit."

"It's been a long night," Culebra said slowly. He came to a halt not far from the voice, realizing its owner must be sitting on his rock. "You're in my seat."

A soft chuckle. "My apologies, Highness." Movement, the scuff of leather on rock, the jangle of a sword belt, boots in grass and then a firm, leather-clad hand grasped Culebra's elbow and helped him sit.

It was interesting, refreshing, the confidence and assurance with which the speaker acted. He didn't hesitate, or ask if Culebra needed help - simply gave it without thought. Also without being annoying, condescending. He was simply matter of fact. "Comfortable, Highness?" the stranger asked, and Culebra could hear the teasing note in it.

"You may sit with me, though I sense I should have long ago summoned guards."

"You probably should have, but at this hour there are none even remotely close to this place." The stranger sat down beside him, and Culebra could feel the heat pouring off him. So many smells clung to him, it was hard to sort them out…cigarettes, sweet cigar, horse…the outdoors in general.

Culebra nodded in agreement, not bothering to say that if he wanted the stranger dead, all he had to do was indicate as much to his snakes. "How is it you can sit so comfortably in here? No one ever comes in here. They fear what the snakes might do."

"True predators only kill when there is a need. I am not at all appetizing, and I've caused them no harm. Nor have I harmed you. They've no reason to attack me. Simple as that."

"So few understand that," Culebra murmured, running his fingers along the half dozen snakes that had curled about him, with still more close by. "I have tried to explain that, but they never listen…"

The stranger laughed again. "That is a pity. You have a fine collection here. So many lovely creatures. Some of these even I have not seen, and my travels have been extensive. I saw one that had orange and red markings, somewhere in Verde. I could not tell you if it was a true snake or one of the blasted Highlanders, but I do know I did not like the look of its teeth."

Culebra's lips twitched. "I believe I have one of those. You should be doubly grateful that it has no interest in human prey, for it prefers to stun its food and eat it while the heart still beats."

"I am doubly grateful, then, as you say. What of that bright green snake in your lap?"

"Do not startle it," Culebra murmured, his fingers easily finding the snake in question, knowing it from the other one in his lap. "They strike quick, and the poison kills quicker still."

That rough, near-broken voice laughed again. "A fine collection of assassins you've got here, Highness. I am glad you have not yet chosen to sic them upon me, which I sense you could."

"Who are you?" Culebra asked. "What do you want?"

"I'm…a jack of all trades, you could say. I think mercenary is the popular term. I have been quite handsomely paid to kidnap you, Highness, and deliver you to my current employer."

Culebra nodded, feeling a calm fall over him. "Who paid you?"

A laugh. "That would be telling, Highness. Anyway, I do not know. I took the money and agreed to the job."

"I always thought a kidnapping would be more…"

"Violent? Messy? Highness, messy and violent would not get me very far. Besides, my investigations have led me to believe you didn't want to be here, anyway. That plays to my favor."

Culebra frowned. "I can't go yet. Not like this…Corinos…" He didn't want to leave while there was still the argument between them. Before his plans had come crashing down around him, he had planned to leave on a positive note. He wanted Corinos's last memories of him to be positive. He didn't want Corinos to think he'd run off while there was still unhappiness between them.

"Your bodyguard?" The stranger said. "I'd rather not involve him, Highness. He would force me to violence, I feel certain, and I would really be happier to avoid that. I've heard a great deal about the fierce wolf that guards the Basilisk Prince. I do not think I would win…but I do not think he would win, either, Highness. Though of course your snakes would get me well before I could get him…but I think that my employers would just send others after you. I do not think your snakes will catch them all."

He didn't want Corinos hurt. Not because of him. He'd tried his whole life to spare Corinos what pain he could. Even when the stupid man didn't realize it. He'd already cost Corinos his brother… "You really are a merc," he said. "I don't want anyone hurt." He paused. "I've never met a mercenary before, but I sense that very few of them are anything like you."

"People rarely know what to do with me," the stranger agreed lightly. "What brings you here at this hour, Highness? I did not expect you until morning."

Culebra frowned and restlessly petted his snakes, nuzzling into the one curled around his neck. "The night is filled with unhappiness. I came here seeking solace. Corinos…" He shook his head, furious that he was explaining things to a stranger - to his kidnapper. "If you are going to kidnap me, grant me one boon."

"Depends on the boon, Highness."

"Make it clear I was kidnapped."

There was a silence, and Culebra could tell his words had startled the man. "Very well, Highness. Just know that if your bodyguard comes after us, I will have to take appropriate measures. It would be better for him if you appeared simply to have run away." He stood up and then a hand wrapped around Culebra's arm. The snakes slithered away, suddenly anxious. Culebra silently soothed them. He stood as his kidnapper tugged him up - but tripped on a fleeing snake and stumbled up against him instead.

He froze as shock coursed through his body. Hastily he drew back, feeling his cheeks heat as he pulled his hands away from where they'd landed on his kidnapper's chest. "Y-you're a woman!"

"I will forgive you, Highness, for not already realizing. Men with all their senses available - though in my experience men have very little sense at all - do not immediately realize I am female. To give them credit, only my chest gives it away most days. I…have led a colorful life. It has left its mark upon me." A wry laugh. "All over me."

Culebra could feel his cheeks burning. "I did not mean to…"

The kidnapper laughed again, and Culebra went completely still, shocked beyond belief as she ruffled Culebra's hair. "No harm done, Highness. I assure you that you are not the first to take a tumble into my bosom. At least you did it by accident." She ruffled his hair again.

"Stop that!" Culebra said, pulling away.

"Yes, Highness," the kidnapper said, clearly amused. "Fidel hates it when I do that, too."

"Who is Fidel?"

"My partner. He's waiting for us just inside the forest with some rather fine horses."

Culebra grimaced. "Horses."

A soft chuckle. "You will be riding with me. Fidel has our supplies."

"Where are we going?"

"That would be telling. I will tell you it is some distance away, and not an area even I frequent. You are not really dressed for travel…lucky for you I did not think you would visit your sanctuary dressed for a long journey."

Culebra almost laughed, and was horrified with himself. He was being kidnapped, nothing should be amusing. Nor should he feel so comfortable with a woman who so casually spoke of kidnapping a royal prince, so lightly of using violence should Corinos get in the way…who he had mistaken for a man. "Such a thoughtful kidnapper," he replied, trying to sound caustic, wincing as he realized he only sounded amused.

"Merely efficient," the kidnapper replied. "I don't think I'd get my money if I delivered you frozen."

"You won't tell me anything about why this is being done?"

"To be honest, Highness, I don't know myself. My job was to kidnap you and meet the ones that want you at a certain location. I don't ask more questions than is strictly necessary. Too much information is as deadly in my line of work as too little. Now here." She stepped close and Culebra heard the swoosh of heavy fabric cutting through the air before a heavy, wool cloak was draped over his shoulders and fastened about his throat. A deep hood was tugged up over his head, and then leather gloves were pressed into his hand.

"Why are you being so…congenial?" Culebra asked.

He had the impression she shrugged. "I find it goes further, when there's opportunity to employ it. We both know I don't need to be; I would have taken you by force if necessary. I'd prefer we keep things…congenial."

"I don't want anyone hurt," Culebra said. "I'll go along with you if it keeps the peace…but know that if you do anything to hurt me, I have my own ways of protecting myself."

A firm hand settled on his arm and began to guide him away from the rock, toward the back of the sanctuary. "I know, Highness," she said, sounding almost gentle. "While you are in my keeping, no harm will come to you if it's within my power to prevent. This is only a job to me. Whatever you choose to do after I've delivered you is wholly up to you. I will neither help nor hi