Gilded Serpent, page 19
Because these coins weren’t in circulation at all.
Teriana sat bolt upright, Quintus grumbling and shifting away from her at the motion. But she barely noticed.
Hundreds of coins were minted in honor of a new consul, but they didn’t enter circulation until a fortnight after the elections, in conjunction with a ceremony where patricians exchanged a coin bearing the visage of the prior consul for one of the new. Which meant these hadn’t been in circulation when the Quincense and the Cel fleet had left Celendrial. Which meant these had been taken from the highly secure mint itself.
And there was only one person who could have managed that.
Lucius Cassius.
Tugging on her boots and fastening her belt, Teriana glanced around to ensure the men were still sleeping, then outwards to ensure those on watch weren’t watching her. Picking up a pebble, she threw it at Marcus. It struck his shoulder and, always a light sleeper, he stirred. But it wasn’t until she’d hit him a second time that he lifted his head, blinking blearily as he focused on her.
She tossed him the coin, watching as he frowned at the dragon, giving an annoyed shake of his head before looking to her askance.
Turn it over, she mouthed, and he flipped it over, frown deepening as he held it up to the growing light.
It only took him a heartbeat to come to the same conclusion she had, the muscles in his jaw tightening, the hand not holding the coin balling into a fist. Then he looked back to her and jerked his chin toward the edge of the camp.
Teriana stepped carefully around the sleeping men, Marcus belting on his weapons as he joined her at the perimeter.
“I’m going to take one last look around the city,” he said to one of the men on watch. “Start packing up and we can head back to Aracam when I return.”
The man nodded. “Give me a moment, sir, and I’ll have an escort readied.”
“I don’t need an escort.”
“But—”
“I’m not going far and I won’t be long. If I’m not back in a half hour, feel free to come looking.”
Obviously torn between what was worse: arguing with his commander or allowing said commander to wander enemy territory alone, the young man said, “A half hour, sir. And don’t hold me responsible if Quintus comes looking sooner.”
Catching Teriana’s wrist, Marcus tugged her into the jungle, nodding at those on watch as they passed. “This is going to raise eyebrows,” she muttered.
“Least of my concerns. Walk faster.”
As it had the first time she’d seen it, the overgrown city seemed to appear from nowhere. The buildings were crumbling, vines and roots forcing their way between blocks of stone, then pulling them down into the damp earth as though the jungle intended to consume any evidence of civilization. And yet despite that, it wasn’t hard to see where roads and streets had once been, and she and Marcus wound their way deeper and deeper into this place that had been lost to time and conquest.
Reaching a spot where there was a break in the tree canopy, Marcus paused in a circle of growing sunlight and turned to her, waiting.
“The coins Ashok had were gold Cel dragons,” she said without preamble. “And lots of them. I didn’t get a close look, but I remember them being shiny enough that they’d either been polished or were of fresh mint.”
“These,” he said, holding up the coin, “weren’t in circulation when we left. I couldn’t even have accessed them—the mint is a fortress to rival Lescendor.”
“But I bet the consul could have. And he sure as shit didn’t give them to Felix.”
Silence.
“It wasn’t Felix.” The words came out of Marcus in a whoosh of breath, then all the color drained from his face. “It wasn’t Felix.”
He swayed, and worried he was about to faint, Teriana caught his arms. “This is good news.”
Marcus flinched, pulling away from her. “I screwed up,” he muttered. “What have I done?”
“Titus played you,” she corrected. “And not just you. But now we know the truth, and while it might not be proof enough to hang him, at least you know who it was. And who to watch.” Her skin abruptly prickled, and she panned the surrounding jungle.
“I know.” Marcus looked ready to vomit. “But the things I said … He’s never going to forgive me. I … I don’t deserve to be forgiven.” He doubled over. “What have I done?”
The sharp clack clack of pebbles falling against stone filled Teriana’s ears, and she turned away from Marcus, searching their surroundings. “Did you hear that?”
Marcus straightened, hand going to the weapon at his waist, his eyes wet but focused.
“Quintus?” It was possible he’d come after them.
“If it was Quintus, we wouldn’t have heard him.” Marcus scanned the overgrown buildings, and Teriana’s skin crawled with sudden certainty that they were being watched.
And that the eyes doing the watching weren’t friendly.
The soft scrape of metal caught her attention, and she looked down to see that Marcus had his gladius in hand. “How long until your men come looking for us?”
“Soon enough.” He answered loudly in Arinoquian. “And knowing Quintus, he won’t be alone.” Then softly, and in Cel, he said, “Get ready to fight.”
Fear pulsed through her veins, but Teriana pulled her knife, her fingers flexing on the hilt. “Should we head back to—”
A shadow dropped from above. Screaming, she flung her weight against Marcus, sending them both rolling into a broken fountain. Scrambling to her feet, Teriana whirled around to face their attacker.
Only to find a striped tiger crouched where they’d been standing.
“Run!” The words tore from her lips, and then they were sprinting, weaving through the streets. But behind was the thud of heavy paws. There was no chance they could outrun it.
Leaping over a tree root, she bent to pick up a heavy rock. She twisted and threw it hard, hitting the pursuing cat in the foreleg and sending it tumbling.
“This way!” Marcus hauled on her arm. “We need to get to a place we can defend until my men arrive.”
They cut between two collapsed buildings, reaching the towers of the god circle. Marcus sprinted toward Lern’s, wrenching open the tarnished door. “Go!” He pushed her through the crack first, following on her heels. But before they could close it, the cat leapt, slashing claws driving it inward.
They retreated into the center of the space, which was faintly illuminated by the sunlight streaming through holes in the roof. The tiger stalked toward them, lips pulled back to reveal fangs as long as her fingers.
“The gods have mercy on us,” she whispered.
Then the floor fell out from under her.
36
MARCUS
The floor collapsed, and he was falling.
Marcus hit the ground hard, the rubble from the floor digging deep into his back, his body screaming in pain. “Teriana!”
He searched for her, coughing on the clouds of dust that made it almost impossible to see.
“Here.” She was on her hands and knees, struggling to rise. “Where is it?”
A snarl to his left drew his gaze. The tiger had fallen as well but, from the look of it, had landed better. Its muscles bunched and Marcus flung himself between the cat and Teriana, his blade lifted. He’d only have one chance to kill it.
Then the rubble moved beneath them, sinking, the sensation like standing on rocky quicksand.
“What’s happening?” Teriana’s voice was panicked.
“I don’t know.” He fought to keep his balance, but the footing beneath him kept changing, and he fell to his knees.
The tiger had its legs splayed wide as the ground shifted beneath it, but then it took one step toward them. Then another.
And that’s when Marcus realized the animal was higher than they were. That the ground beneath him and Teriana was collapsing faster, it appearing for all the world like the whirlpool that had brought them to this side of the world.
And understanding dawned on him.
“Climb!” he screamed.
They scrambled, but handholds and footholds fell away, and instead of rising, they slid down.
Farther and farther, a glow appearing beneath them.
Looking between his feet, Marcus saw the tip of a xenthier stem appear, the crystal sucking away any debris that fell against it, moving the rubble to the terminus.
Wherever that was.
“Marcus!” Teriana screamed his name, and he looked up to see several warriors wearing the same elaborate armor as in the paintings throughout the city. Not Arinoquians, but the inlanders. The people the Arinoquians had displaced.
“We were warned of you by one who came before,” the lone woman with them said in accented Cel. Which was impossible. How could they know the language? “We know of your Empire. Of what it does to everything it touches. He wore the same mark as you.” She tapped the right side of her chest.
“Help us,” Teriana pleaded. “Please! You don’t understand!”
But the woman only shook her head and said to the tiger, “Kill them.”
The massive cat picked its way down, eyes fixed on him and Teriana.
There was nowhere to go.
If they managed to climb up, they’d be met by fangs. And below was a potentially deadly unknown.
Certain death. Or the chance at life.
Catching hold of Teriana’s arm, Marcus twisted, and together, they slid down the rubble toward the glowing crystal.
37
TERIANA
The air rushed from her chest.
And all around her was white. White, endless white, and for a heartbeat Teriana believed she was trapped in the xenthier’s magic. Trapped between two places. Neither here nor there. Bodiless.
Then the cold hit her. Piercing and bitter and cruel, her sweaty skin screaming under the onslaught.
“Get up!” Marcus shouted, his hands under her arms, hauling her upright, dragging her backward through the rubble that had come through with them. Away from the xenthier stem, which jutted, glittering and black, from the snow.
Where are we?
Then the tiger was in front of her, stumbling to keep its footing. It snarled, head swinging from side to side.
Its gaze fixed on her.
Marcus shoved her behind him, blade in one hand. The animal’s muscles bunched, and Teriana lifted her knife, fingers already numb from the cold. Her heart thundered in her chest, pulse roaring in her ears.
Run! her instincts screamed. Instead, Teriana bit down on her terror. “Come and get us, you bastard.”
The tiger snarled, but rather than lunging at Marcus, it staggered, skin shifting and moving as though it were made of liquid, the snarl changing to a scream.
A human scream.
It was a gods-damned shifter.
The tiger’s form solidified, but it swayed back and forth. Disoriented.
“Don’t like the cold?” Marcus started forward, but Teriana caught hold of his arm.
“He’s god marked,” she said. “By Lern. He can change into any shape he wants.”
Except something wasn’t right.
The tiger took one step back, then another before spinning around to paw at the xenthier tip. It batted at it with increasing violence, until its body once again turned liquid, flowing in a way Teriana’s eyes couldn’t comprehend—as though she watched through a piece of glass that distorted everything. She blinked once only to find a naked man where the tiger had stood. He struck the xenthier, screaming curses in a language she didn’t know.
Then he froze. Sensing he was no longer the hunter, the shifter slowly turned, eyes landing on Marcus’s blade, which was shaking, his hand reddened by the cold.
Gods, it was freezing.
“What is this place?” the shifter demanded in accented Arinoquian. “Where have you brought me? What have you done to me?”
Marcus laughed, and there was an edge to it that made Teriana stiffen. That made her look at him instead of the shifter. “Welcome to the East, you bloody bastard. Let’s see how well you fight without your gods to swing the odds.”
The shifter took a step backward.
Then a howl split the air.
All three of them froze.
“What was that?” Teriana demanded, turning in a circle, but all around them was snow. A barren landscape of nothing.
“Sibernese wolves.” There was fear in Marcus’s voice. “They’re nocturnal. But if they’re hungry enough, they’ll come before dusk.”
And the sun was little more than a glow on the horizon.
As though some of his mark’s instincts remained, the shifter turned, peering into the distance. Then he raised a hand and pointed.
In the dying light, Teriana could make out motion. Something—many somethings—racing in their direction.
“Run!”
They struggled through the snow, feet breaking through the crust, which sent them tripping. And there was no escape, the land empty of anything but leafless brush.
Howls filled her ears. Teriana stumbled and fell, and Marcus hauled her up, terror chasing away the burning sting of the cold.
“There!”
Her eyes tracked the direction Marcus pointed, where a small shack had appeared in the distance.
The howls grew closer, and Teriana cast a backward glance over her shoulder.
Racing toward her were wolves with fur as black as night, eyes glittering in the fading sun, wide paws ghosting across the snow despite the creatures being bigger than any wolf she’d ever seen.
“Keep running!”
There was no chance of them outpacing the wolves.
Or at least, not all three of them.
The shifter was taller, his longer legs pulling him ahead.
“I’m not dying so you can live!” Marcus shouted, then threw himself forward. His gladius sliced through the tendon above the man’s heel, blood spraying across the snow.
The shifter shrieked and fell, tried to rise, then fell again.
Teriana slowed, but Marcus clambered to his feet and caught her arm. “His turn to be hunted. It will buy us time.”
She staggered, the icy air burning her lungs, but the sight of the shifter crawling on hands and knees made her jerk out of Marcus’s grip.
“Teriana!”
Ignoring him, she raced back to the man. “May the Six find your soul,” she whispered, then sliced her knife across his throat.
“Run!”
She jerked upright, and a sob tore from her lips. The wolves were only a hundred paces away and closing fast.
Adrenaline fired through her veins, and she flung herself toward the shack. Over and over she fell, barely feeling the sharp pieces of snow scoring her bare hands as she regained her feet.
She heard the pack fall upon the dying shifter. Heard them tear into him with excited yelps and whines. Heard the moment when they decided he wasn’t going anywhere but that their other prey was escaping.
“We’re almost there! We’re almost there!” Marcus shouted, pushing her ahead of him.
The wolves’ paws made soft thuds against the snow as they continued their pursuit.
The shack was twenty paces away.
Pants from half a dozen muzzles filled the air.
Ten paces.
She felt them gaining on her.
Five paces.
Felt their hot breath on her neck.
She slammed against the door of the shack, jerking up the latch, the door swinging open.
Marcus shoved her inside, sending her tumbling over whatever was hidden in the darkness.
Twisting on her hands and knees, she watched him lean against the door right as the front-runner lunged.
It hit the door, driving it inward, Marcus scrambling to hold it in place.
Teriana screamed as snapping teeth appeared in the gap, the animal’s fur stained with the dead shifter’s blood.
Marcus smashed his fist against the wolf’s nose, and it recoiled with a whine. The door slammed shut. “Get the beam!”
Leaping to her feet, she fumbled in the dim light for the heavy plank. Heaving it up, she wedged it in the slot next to the hinge, but before she could get the other side in place, the wolf hit the door again, opening it a crack.
Teriana’s eyes locked with the wolf’s, and it snarled, shoving its muzzle in the gap, teeth snapping.
She recoiled as the door inched open enough for it to fit its whole head, and the beam fell against Marcus’s shoulder. The wolf was enormous, its lips pulled back to reveal fangs, green eyes fixed on her.
“Hit it!” Marcus shouted. “If it gets in, we’re dead!”
Fight.
Balling her fist, Teriana swung hard, catching the animal straight in the nose, her hand scraping along its teeth. It yelped, but didn’t draw back.
Marcus’s feet slid in the dirt, the door inching open, the shack shuddering as the pack attacked from all sides.
“Kill it!”
She’d lost her knife, but beneath the animal’s legs was Marcus’s gladius.
Taking a deep breath, Teriana lunged downwards, reaching for the hilt.
The wolf moved with her, only Marcus’s weight against the door keeping it from biting the back of her neck. Its paw struck her, clawing along her arm, but then her numb fingers caught hold of the weapon.
Falling backward, she tightened her grip and then slammed the tip of the blade into the animal’s chest.
It squealed and scrambled back, taking the gladius with it, and the door slammed shut. Marcus heaved the beam into place. “There’s another one. Somewhere. Here.” Lifting the beam, he fit it into the brackets, then fell to his knees next to her.
Blood ran warm down her frozen skin where the wolf had clawed her, and she flinched as the animals continued to attack the shack, the wood shuddering with each blow. “Can they get in?”
“No,” he said but didn’t sound convinced. “They’re built for this. But we’re going to freeze to death if we don’t get a fire started.”
He was right.
With her adrenaline fading, the cold was sinking into her bones, the pain worse than the injury to her arm. And Marcus was wearing a fraction of the clothing she was, his arms and legs bare, feet exposed to the deadly chill.
