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knocked his companion down in his sudden haste to escape the farthest corner of the kitchen, where a
large wired crate sat upon a sturdy shelf among pots and bins. Instantly, weapons were drawn to deal
with this new threat.
Sword in hand, the terrified soldier hovered halfway between his captain and whatever it was he had
espied in the farthest reaches of the kitchen.
 What is it, Dessevia? Slale asked tersely. Staring in the direction from which the shout had originated,
he saw nothing.
 A serpent, sir! A bleeding great hideous nasty serpent!
 It is said that wizards often keep dangerous familiars close about them, someone whispered from near
the back of the invaded kitchen.
 True enough, but such sorceral servants are usually drawn from the ranks of cats and sometimes dogs,
which creatures we have found here in plenty. An amateur scholar of some knowledge, Slale was proud
of his book learning.  A sorcerer might keep a serpent to utilize in other ways.
Cautiously, the point of his own sword preceding him, he advanced in the direction of the cage.
Oblivious to the slow approach of the uneasy soldiery, the canary had begun to sing as it cracked and
swallowed the seed they had placed in its cage.
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It was a snake of a type Slale recognized: impressive in appearance, it was as long as a man was tall,
and of substantial girth. It lay coiled peacefully within a tightly lidded cage of glass, eyeing them out of
small dark red eyes, its tongue flicking continuously in their direction.
Relieved, the captain put up his sword.  Be at ease, gentlemen and ladies. The creature is secured within
its pen, and cannot get out. Furthermore, it is one of those serpents that kills by embracing its prey, and
not with poison.
 You be certain of that, Captain? The tremulous query originated with a trooper named Taree, a simple
but brave swordswoman who had managed to escape the havoc that had befallen Kyll-Bar-Bennid.
 Yes. I recognize the kind. Slale stood a little straighter, his voice taking on a tone of self-importance.  I
have seen such creatures depicted in a book.
The soldiers murmured softly, those who were not inherently terrified of serpents or books crowding
closer for a better look. It was indeed a handsome snake, with large diamondlike patterns running down
the length of its back and sides. What its natural colors might be they could only imagine: the Mundurucu
hex had reduced its scaly coloration to the same sad state of washed-out gray as now dominated the rest
of the world.
 I wonder if it s as hungry as these others? the trooper commented, immediately regretting giving voice
to his curiosity. His comrades were not hesitant in responding.
 Why don t you try feeding it and find out? The suggestion from the back of the crowded kitchen
sparked a minor but much needed outburst of laughter.
 Snakes of this kind need to be fed only rarely. Turning away from the cage and its inquisitive but
slow-moving occupant, Slale surveyed the rest of the kitchen.  This is as good a place as any to do what
we came for, I suppose. Bring forth the box.
The soldiers who had been charged with transporting the silver crate promptly wrestled it forward and
set it down in front of the basin that was used for the washing and cleaning of food. Being forced to look
after it all the way from Malostranka had left them with a less than sanguine opinion of its bulk, not to
mention its contents.
Approaching the crate, Slale bent to unfasten the straps that secured it. Removing the lid, he gestured to
his soldiers. From the midst of thick horsehair packing, they removed a smaller container. Simply
fashioned of silver inlaid with an assortment of attractive but in no way remarkable semiprecious stones,
they set it gently on the sturdy wooden table that dominated the center of the room. It lay there
waist-high, the silver shining dully in the muted, cursed gray light as if relieved to be free of its prison. In
unblighted sunlight the carnelians and agates, amethysts and citrines that decorated its sides would have
twinkled brightly. But there was no such liveliness in them now. They were as subdued as the rest of the
world, reduced to lackluster lumps of rock that, like everything else, had been smothered by the
Mundurucu hex.
Using his thumbs, Slale carefully pushed the two heavy latches in opposite directions and then lifted the
hinged lid to reveal an inner nest of plush satin. In natural light this would have been a bright, regal red. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]