“Imagine their surprise when they discovered that their beautiful world was already inhabited.”
“Your people, Royal One?”
The dragon-snake modestly lowered its head in acquiescence.
“But where did you come from? Who created you?”
“You did, Patryn,” said the dragon-snake softly.
Haplo frowned, puzzled. But before he could question further, the dragon-snake had continued on.
“At first, we welcomed these newcomers to our world. We hoped for prosperous, peaceful interaction with them. But Samah hated us, because he could not enslave us, as he enslaved the wretched mensch. He and the other Council members attacked us, completely without provocation. Naturally, we defended ourselves. We did not kill them, however, but sent them running back to their city in disgrace.”
“You defeated Samah?” Haplo asked, dubious. “The most powerful of all the Sartan who ever lived?”
“You may have noticed a certain odd property of this seawater . . .” said the dragon snake suggestively.
“I didn’t drown in it, if that’s what you mean, Royal One. I can breathe it the same as air.”
“I wasn’t referring to that.” Haplo shook his head. “I can’t think of anything else.”
“Indeed?” The snake shifted its bulk slightly, almost as if it were laughing. “I would have guessed the seawater to have the same effect on the magic of both races—Sartan and Patryns. Most peculiar.”
Haplo could scarcely breathe. The terrible joy that filled his being produced an actual, physical pain in his chest. He needed an outlet for his emotion, reached for some food, though he wasn’t hungry.
The seawater in this world destroyed Sartan magic! And on this world, surrounded by seawater, was the Patryn’s most hated enemy. Haplo lifted a wineskin, nearly dropped it. His hands shook with elation. Carefully, he laid the wineskin back down. Be calm. Be wary. Don’t trust these creatures. He tried to appear casual. He took a bite of something, not knowing or caring what. “But all this you describe must have happened many generations ago. How is it possible that Samah is alive, Royal One? Perhaps you’ve made a mistake.”
“No mistake,” said the dragon-snake. “But . . . the food. Is it to your liking? Will you have more of anything?”
Haplo hadn’t tasted what he put in his mouth. “No, thank you. Please go on.” The snake obliged. “We hoped that, after we had chastised them, the Sartan would leave us alone, allow us to pursue our lives in peace. But Samah was furious at us. We had made him look the fool in the eyes of the mensch, who, seeing these godlike creatures brought so low, began to talk openly of revolt. He vowed revenge on us, no matter what the cost to his people or to the innocent mensch.
“Using their magical powers—you may guess, by the way, that the Sartan had now an extreme aversion to seawater—Samah and the Council wrenched loose the seastar from its stationary position in the center of this world. The seasun began drifting away. The water grew colder, the temperature in both their Chalice and in our seamoon began to drop. Thus, though it meant that they themselves would be forced to abandon the world, fleeing through Death’s Gate, the Sartan hoped to freeze us to death.
“Of course they would have, in the process, frozen the mensch, as well. But what were a few thousand humans, dwarves, and elves, compared to the vast numbers already sacrificed to Sartan ambition during the Sundering? The mensch discovered this evil plot, however, and rebelled against their masters. They built ships and fled into the Goodsea, chasing after the seasun.
“The mensch exodus appalled and alarmed the Sartan. They didn’t want this world for themselves any longer, but neither did they intend to leave it to the mensch. They swore that not one mensch should survive. At this point, we had a choice to make.”
The dragon-snake sighed, raised its head, looked at its fellows with pride.
“We could have gone with the mensch. They begged us to go, to protect them from whales and other fearsome creatures of the deep brought here by the Sartan to keep the mensch in line. But we knew that we were the only ones who could stand between the mensch and the fury of the Sartan. We chose to stay behind, though it meant that we must suffer.
“We saved the mensch and prevented the Sartan from fleeing through Death’s Gate. The ice closed in on them and on us. They had no choice but to seek refuge in the Sleep. We hibernated, knowing that someday the seastar would drift this direction again. Our enemies would awake, and so would we.”
“But why, then, Royal One, did you attack the mensch? You were once their saviors.”
“Yes, but that was long, long ago. They have forgotten all about us and the sacrifice we made.” The dragon-snake sighed heavily, sank back down on its coils. “I suppose that we should have taken the passage of time into account and made allowances, but we were thrilled over returning to this beautiful world and eager to make the acquaintance of the descendants of those for whom we had risked all to save.
“We came upon the mensch too suddenly, without warning. Admittedly, we are not lovely to look upon. Our smell, I am told, offends the nostrils. Our size intimidates. The mensch were horribly frightened and attacked us. Hurt by such ingratitude, we, I regret to say, fought back. Sometimes we do not know our own strength.”
The dragon-snake sighed again. Its fellows, deeply affected, whispered in grief, lowered their heads into the sand.
“When we were able to view the matter in a calmer light, we at once acknowledged that much of the blame lay with us. But how could we rectify it? If we came upon the mensch again, they would only redouble their efforts to kill us. And so we decided to bring the mensch to us. One of each race, a daughter of each of the royal households. If we could convince these gentle damsels that we meant no harm, then they would return to their people, offer our apologies, and all would be well. We would all live in peace and harmony.” Gentle damsel. Grundle? Haplo chuckled to himself at the thought. But he said nothing, brushed it aside, brushed aside any doubts he might have had over the dragon-snake’s veracity.
Parts of the snake’s story didn’t exactly fit the facts as he’d heard them from the mensch, but that didn’t matter now. What mattered was a chance to strike a blow, a telling blow, at the Sartan.
“Peace and harmony are all very well, Royal One,” Haplo said, watching the snake closely, feeling his way, “but the Sartan will never allow it. Once they know you have returned, they’ll do their best to destroy you.”
“Too true,” agreed the dragon-snake. “Destroy us and enslave the mensch. But what can be done? Our numbers are few; many of us did not survive the hibernation. And the Sartan, or so we hear from our spies, the gushni,[27] are stronger than ever. They’ve received reinforcements through Death’s Gate.”
“Reinforcements.” Haplo shook his head. “That’s not possible . . .”
“One has come, at least,” The dragon-snake spoke with conviction. “A Sartan who travels freely through Death’s Gate, visiting other worlds. He disguises himself as a mensch, calls himself by a mensch name. He pretends to be bumbling and clumsy, but we know him for what he is. He is the one we call Serpent Mage. And he is far more powerful than Samah himself.” The dragon-snake’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you laugh, Patryn?”
“I’m sorry, Royal One,” said Haplo, grinning, “but I know this Sartan. And you don’t need to worry about him. He doesn’t pretend to be bumbling and clumsy. He is bumbling and clumsy. And he doesn’t travel through Death’s Gate. More likely he fell through it, by accident.”
“He’s not powerful?”
Haplo jerked a thumb toward the cave. “Those mensch in there are more powerful.”
27
Similar in appearance to jellyfish, each has a shared intelligence with all the others, each one contains all the knowledge of the entire group. They make excellent spies, since what one learns is instantly passed on to every other gushni on Chelestra. They cannot speak and are probably linked to the dragon-snakes telepathically.