Dreamsnake

“Is this how you torture a healer?” she said. She swung herself down into the crevasse, clumsily but eagerly. One-handed, she lowered herself by steps into the freezing darkness, catching each rung with her bare toes and pulling it outward so she had a foothold. Above, she heard the crazy break down in helpless sobs.

“We’ll see how you feel in the morning,” North said.

The crazy’s voice rose in terror. “She’ll kill all the dreamsnakes, North! North, that’s what she came here for.”

“I’d like to see that,” North said. “A healer killing dreamsnakes.”

From the echoes as the rungs clattered against the walls of the crevasse, Snake knew she was nearing the bottom. It was not quite dark, but her eyes accustomed themselves slowly. Damp with sweat and shivering again, she had to pause. She rested her forehead against cold stone. Her toes and the knuckles of her left hand were scraped raw, for the ladder lay flush against stone.

It was then, finally, that she heard the soft rustling slide of small serpents. Clutching the ropes, Snake hung against the stone and squinted into the dimness below. Light penetrated in a long narrow streak down the center of the crevasse.

A dreamsnake slid smoothly from one edge of darkness to the other.

Snake fumbled her way the last few meters, stepping to the floor as cautiously as she could, feeling around with her numb bare foot until she was certain nothing moved beneath it. She knelt. Cold jagged chunks of stone cut into her knees, and the only warmth was the fresh blood on her shoulder. But she reached out among the shards, feeling carefully. Her fingertips brushed the smooth scales of a serpent as it slid silently away. She reached out again, ready this time, and caught the next one she touched. Her hand stung at two tiny points. She smiled and held the dreamsnake gently behind the head, by habit conserving its venom. She brought it close enough to see. It was wild, not tame and gentle as Grass had been. It writhed and lashed itself around her hand; its delicate trident tongue flicked out at her, and in again to taste her scent. But it did not hiss, just as Grass had never hissed.

As her eyes became more and more used to the darkness, Snake gradually perceived the rest of the crevasse, and all the other dreamsnakes, all sizes of them, lone ones, clumps of them, tangles of them, more than she had ever seen before in her life, more than her people could gather together at the station, if all the healers brought their dreamsnakes home at the same time.

The dreamsnake she held grew quiet in the meager warmth of her hand. One drop of blood collected over each puncture of its bite, but the sting of its venom had lasted only an instant. Snake sat back on her heels and stroked the dreamsnake’s head. Once more she began to laugh. She knew she had to control herself: this was more hysteria than joy. But, for the moment, she laughed.

“Laugh away, healer.” North’s voice echoed darkly against stone. “We’ll see how long you laugh.”

“You’re a fool,” she cried with glee, with dreamsnakes all around her and in her hand. She laughed at the hilarity of this punishment, like a child’s story come true. She laughed until she cried, but for an instant the tears were real. She knew that when this torture could not harm her, North would find some other way. She sniffed and coughed and wiped her face on the tail of her shirt, for at least she had a little time.

And then she saw Melissa.

Her daughter lay crumpled on the broken stone in the narrow end of the crevasse. Snake moved carefully to her side, trying not to injure any of the serpents she passed, nor to startle those that lay curled around Melissa’s arms, or coiled together against her body. They made green tendrils in her bright red hair.

Snake knelt beside Melissa and gently, carefully plucked the wild serpents away. North’s people had taken Melissa’s robe, and cut her pants off at the knees. Her arms were bare, and her boots, like Snake’s, were gone. Rope bound her hands and feet, chafing her wrists raw where she had struggled. Small bloody bites spotted her bare arms and legs. A dreamsnake struck: its fangs sank into Snake’s flesh and the creature jerked back almost too fast to see. Her teeth clenched, Snake remembered the crazy’s words: “It’s best if they strike you all over at once…”

With her own body, Snake blocked the serpents away from Melissa and freed her wrists, fumbling left-handed with the knots. Melissa’s skin was cold and dry. Snake cradled her in her left arm as the wild dreamsnakes crawled over her own bare feet and ankles. Once more she wondered how they lived in the cold. She would never have dared let Grass loose in this temperature. Even the case would have been too cold: she would have brought him out, warmed him in her hands, and let him loop himself around her throat.

Melissa’s hand slid limply against the rocks. Blood smeared in streaks from the puncture wounds where her skin rubbed cloth or stone. Snake managed to get Melissa in her lap, off the freezing ground. Her pulse was heavy and slow, her breathing deep. But each new breath came so long after the last that Snake was afraid she would stop altogether.

The cold pressed down around them, pushing back the ache in Snake’s shoulder and draining her energy again. Stay awake, she thought. Stay awake. Melissa might stop breathing; her heart might stop from so much venom, and then she will need help. Despite herself, Snake’s eyes went out of focus and her eyelids drooped; each time she nodded asleep she jerked herself awake again. A pleasant thought insinuated itself into her mind: No one dies of dreamsnake venom. They live, or they die of their illness, in peace, when their time comes. It’s safe to sleep, she will not die. But Snake knew of no one who had ever been given such a large dose of the venom, and Melissa was only a child.

A tiny dreamsnake slid between her leg and the side of the crevasse. She reached out with her numb right hand and picked it up with wonder. It lay coiled in her palm, staring toward her with its lidless eyes, its trident tongue tasting the air. Something about it was unusual: Snake looked closer.

It was an eggling, just hatched, for it still had the beak of horny tissue common to the hatchlings of many species of serpents. It was final proof of how North obtained his dreamsnakes. He had not found an offworld supply. He did not clone them. He had a breeding population. In this pit were all sizes and all ages, from egglings to mature individuals larger than any dreamsnakes Snake had ever seen.

She turned to lay the hatchling down behind her, but her hand knocked against the wall. Startled, the dreamsnake struck. The sharp stab of its tiny fangs made Snake flinch. The creature slid from her hand to the ground and on into shadows.

“North!” Snake’s voice was hoarse. She cleared her dry throat and tried again. “North!”

In time, his silhouette appeared at the rim of the crevasse. By his easy smile Snake knew he expected her to beg him for her freedom. He looked down at her, noting the way she had positioned herself between Melissa and the serpents.

“She could be free if you’d let her,” he said. “Don’t keep her from my creatures.”

“Your creatures are wasted here, North,” Snake said. “You should take them out into the world. You’d be honored by everyone, particularly the healers.”

“I’m honored here,” North said.

“But this must be a difficult life. You could live in comfort and ease—”

“There’s no comfort for me,” North said. “You of all people should realize that. Sleeping on the ground or wrapped in featherbeds, it’s all the same to me.”

“You’ve made dreamsnakes breed,” Snake said. She glanced down at Melissa. Several of the serpents had insinuated themselves past Snake. She grabbed one just before it reached her daughter’s bare arm. The serpent struck and bit her. She put it and the others behind her with stinging hands, ignoring their fangs. “However you do it, you should take the knowledge out and give it to others.”