Page 20 of A Serpent in the Garden

They’ll all be more concerned with getting to the trees bordering the village, It said. I doubt they know two humans slipped into their territory while they were sleeping. This is off their beaten paths. They don’t run this way to get to the border.

I wasn’t altogether convinced. What are they? If all the village elders are wrong?

Demons damned and cast from Hell. Our criminals. Creatures as well. They’re mostly nocturnal. I’ve never been in the wood by night but I used to find their tracks in daylight.

How bad would a demon have to be to get tossed out of Hell?

You should sleep now, It said, before I could ask. Your eyes are heavy.

I’m too wound up.

You won’t survive here running on zero rest. I can force it, if you want.

No. I leaned my head against the rock wall. I hated the way it felt when It took the reins, as if I were but a passenger in my own skin. Trapped in the tiny dungeon cell of my own mind. How terrible it must be for It, to spend six years in quarters even more cramped than this cave. And how could I sleep when at any moment we might be descended upon?

I’ll be listening. Nothing can make it into the clearing without me knowing. It would be just a little push. You’re tired enough that it wouldn’t take much.

And you’re not tired?

I haven’t needed sleep in six years.

I’m not sure if I trust you to be completely on your guard. I readjusted myself on the hard rock floor, wondering what sorts of aches would make their complaints known come morning. You took your time when we were nearly roasted by those faeries.

I wouldn’t have let you die. I wanted to see what you could do. How far you could get without me.

You said you’d be there with an I told you so before I breathed my last.

Yes, well. It flicked a testy claw. I’m as capable of bluster as anybody else. Sleep now, It said, in a voice heavy with suggestion.

There was an arm slung around my hips, a club at my back when I woke.

Good Lord, It responded instantly and with much exasperation, its tail snapping at the floor of my mind. You must be joking.

I know what it is. I battled a groan as I disentangled myself from Serich and pushed up on a hand which could scarcely support my weight. It happens to them all.

The crick in my neck was nearly as hideous as the voice in my ear. I thought his piety would keep that sort of thing from happening.

I wished It had burrowed into the dark recesses of my head, the way it usually did at this hour, though I was grudgingly grateful for its presence. We might be dead if It hadn’t stuck around.

Rise and shine, sweetheart. Wake your oaf. Daylight burns without you.

The gray light streaming through the crack in the cave barrier was too much for my night-soaked eyes. I wished for coffee, though I’d never tasted it, never would. No way I could ever afford it.

I missed Livvy.

I will give you all the gold from the floor of Hell’s antechamber if you manage to break the curse, It said in a voice of tantalizing suggestion, wicking up my every unspoken, unacknowledged dream and desire and marching them across my mind’s eye. Blankets that didn’t look as though they doubled as rags. Clothes which weren’t threadbare. Enough food in the pantry to erase those lines that etched between Margaret’s brows whenever she peered inside it. Coffee to banish the bruises beneath Livvy’s eyes. Materials for Robert to patch the cracks he kept finding in the cottage. Toys for the children. Maybe even coin enough to build Monde’s End back up from ruins.

Devils and their barters. It would give me everything I wanted and then catfoot back into my life later to ask for a favor I could not refuse. You were so sure I would die in the attempt, I said. Now you’re offering me gold?

Maybe I changed my mind about you.

I didn’t need Its gold. Breaking free would be payment enough.

What’s your name? I asked on a whim, as if my sleeping brain had made the decision in the night. Will you have me call you It forever? I know you’re male. I’d known it with chill and sudden clarity the moment he’d made that lewd comment by the miserable little stream.

The moment you know my true name is the moment you’ll find me at your mercy. The smirk in his voice cracked into a fanged smile. I don’t mind ‘It’.

The wood seemed to grow colder the closer we had gotten to Hell. I found this a strange paradox as I shivered at the entrance of the cave.