Filed To Story: Between Two Kings: A Split or Swallow Book PDF Free
Tem was so swept away in their kiss that she barely heard the dull swell of noise penetrating the back of her skull. She opened her mind, tuning into the collective consciousness of every basilisk under the mountain. It was utter chaos, dozens of voices, all talking over one another, all in a state of sheer panic.
How did it get in here?
We have precautions in place. It should be impossible to-
If there is one, that means there could be more-
How can we get it out?
We must leave, otherwise-
There must be a way to kill it-
Something was wrong, that much was very clear. But Tem couldn’t tell what it was, couldn’t understand what had happened. The mass panic was pressing against her skull, threatening to crush her. Finally, she heard it. One word, over and over:
Weasel.
“Caspen,” Tem said out loud. “Listen.”
He listened, his brow furrowed. Then his eyes widened.
Basilisks had many weaknesses. Mirrors. The crow of a rooster. The smell of a weasel. There was one here, now, in the passageways. And it was killing her people.
“Who would do this?” Caspen whispered. “Who would-“
But Tem already knew.
She remembered Vera’s words perfectly:
Your husband should watch his back. This was retaliation, revenge for Jonathan and Christopher. The villagers could not reach the royals, so now they’d come for the basilisks, staking their claim in this civil war.
A scream pierced the air.
Immediately, Caspen turned for the door.
“Wait,” Tem cried. “You can’t go out there.
I’m going out there.”
“You are not going anywhere.”
“I have to help, Caspen. I’m the only one who can-“
Another scream.
Caspen’s face was tight with pain. Whether physical or emotional, Tem didn’t know. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back onto the bed.
“Stay here.”
“Tem, I must help my people.”
“You can’t go near a weasel, Caspen.”
He shook his head. He seemed to be in shock. “I must do something.”
“No, Caspen. I just got you back. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I cannot just sit here. I must-“
“You must stay here.”
She pushed Caspen down again, as hard as she could. This time he sat.
Before he had a chance to protest again, Tem turned and ran from the room. The passageway was utter chaos; basilisks in their human forms sprinted in every direction, trying to sequester themselves in their chambers. Dimly, Tem heard a commotion that sounded like it came from the courtyard. She angled her body in that direction, dodging basilisk after basilisk in the passageway.
Caspen’s presence was strong in her mind. Tem kept the corridor between them open, showing him where she was going. As soon as she entered the passageway, the noise in her mind became noise surrounding her. She fought against the stream of basilisks, pushing through the wave of bodies. By the time Tem reached the courtyard, she was out of breath.
Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.
The courtyard was full of bodies. Basilisks lay in piles along the walls, motionless, in a clear attempt at retreat-all dead. Tem stared at them numbly as she passed, barely seeing them. Husbands shielded their wives, their hands over their noses in an attempt to block the smell. Basilisks had nothing with which to cover their faces, no way to defend themselves against the weapon of scent. It was the perfect attack, and it was unthinkably cruel. With a jolt, Tem recognized the next body she saw. It was the woman in the blood-bound couple: the one she had blessed on the first night of mating season. The woman’s mate was nowhere to be found. But Tem knew that wherever he was, he was dead.
Tem blinked away tears. There was no time for that now, no time to grieve.
Anyone who was left alive was screaming and sprinting for the passageways, desperate to get as far away from the weasel as possible. It took less than a minute for Tem to locate it. The creature was in the corner, gnawing on the arm of a woman basilisk. Bile rose in Tem’s throat, and she fought to suppress it.
All this destruction from an animal smaller than a cat. Tem couldn’t believe that something as formidable as the basilisks could be brought down by something so minuscule. It was some sick joke of nature that they would have such a weakness. They were too powerful otherwise, too dominant. Predators like Caspen had to be controlled somehow. There was always a balance.
As soon as Tem approached the weasel, it bolted in the opposite direction. She ran after it madly, blind with adrenaline, finally cornering it next to the fountain. Her basilisk side recoiled at the smell, but her human side had no reaction whatsoever. She felt much the same as she had growing up on the farm, listening to the crow of the rooster: discomfort but not pain. Tem was the only one who could fix this-the only one who would be safe from the weasel. This time when she lunged for it, she caught it, scraping her elbows and her knees against the rough stone floor as she dove to the ground. The narrow creature just barely fit in her hands, and the moment she caught it, Tem gripped it with her fists and twisted. She felt its spine break with a great snap, then it went limp.
Caspen, she called with her mind.
I have it. What do I do with it?
Do not move. I will tell everyone to sequester themselves. Then you can take it outside.
In reply, a wave of relief passed through her mind. She felt Caspen’s presence branch out, reaching for everyone in her vicinity. Tem held the weasel in her hands, staring down at its lifeless body. The sound of screaming slowly quieted as everyone retreated to their chambers until finally it was just her in the courtyard alone. Still, Tem waited to move until she heard Caspen say,
Everyone is gone, Tem.
Tem nodded even though she knew he couldn’t see her. She carried the weasel all the way outside, gasping as the cold air hit her lungs. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how claustrophobic the caves were. But now, under the light of the late autumn moon, Tem felt truly alone.
She looked down at the weasel in her hands. It was bent at an odd angle, its spine cracked. It was still warm. Tem wondered if it was sentient, the way humans were. There was a time, not too long ago, when she’d thought-just like the villagers-that basilisks weren’t capable of complex emotion. And yet they were. Perhaps this weasel was too. It was unbelievable to Tem that something so small could have caused such grievous harm. There were countless deaths-many families would be mourning tomorrow. All because of the tiny creature in her hands. Tem paused at the wall. Then on a whim, she walked deeper into the forest.
There was no logic to her actions. This animal did not deserve a funeral. But for some reason, under the naked judgment of the Alpha Serpentis, Tem felt obligated to give it one. She walked until she found a stretch of ground that was untouched by the early frost, setting the weasel down before hacking at the dirt with a stick, her foot, anything she could find until there was a rough hole hewn in the ground. Then she dropped the weasel inside it and spread dirt over it, creating a quick grave. Tem stared at her handiwork. It was a pathetic resting place, even for a weasel. She stood there until she became cold. She didn’t bother warming herself; it was time to go back. She could do nothing more for the weasel, and there were more important deaths to mourn tonight. Tem made her way to the caves, dreading what she might find.
The courtyard was once more full of basilisks. Only this time, they milled about in stunned silence, the only sound the occasional mournful wail. Tem cast her gaze around, searching for every face she might know. Relief coursed through her the moment she saw Apollo. Similar relief shone on his face when their eyes met. Tem ran toward him.
He ran toward her too, nearly lifting her from the ground as they collided.
“You were brave, Temperance. We owe you a debt.”
Tem just shook her head. A debt was the last thing the basilisks owed her.
Apollo left her when Cypress emerged from the crowd. Tem didn’t follow.
Instead, she helped however she could, lending her time and her heart to anyone who needed it. Eventually, Adelaide joined her. They worked into the early hours of the morning, comforting the grieving and counting the dead. In the end, forty-six basilisks fell prey to the weasel. By the time everyone was accounted for, Tem could barely keep her eyes open. She retreated to her chambers with Caspen, and they lay down on the bed together.
Tem stared at him in the darkness.
She had often wondered how he felt bearing the burden of leadership, and she saw that burden now. His brow was drawn, his chest rising and falling heavily. He did not cry, but he might as well have. Caspen had done so much for her, and all Tem wanted was to do something for him. Slowly, so as not to alarm him, Tem touched her fingers to his chest, drawing on the ability all basilisks had to transfer emotions. She knew it was working the moment overwhelming grief slammed into her like a brick wall. Tem gasped from the sheer heaviness of it. It was as if she were drowning. Caspen looked down at her in surprise, and she knew he hadn’t expected this of her.