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Soon after twilight, the fire in our torches surrenders to the presence of demons, and our only light is the feeble glow of Vanna’s heart. It doesn’t slow us down. Even in utter darkness, I would know my way to the rock. Come the end of this earth, I would still be able to find it.
The mangrove trees are the first marker that we’re on the right path. There aren’t many monkeys on Sundau, but they like to play among the twisted roots and dip into the shiny stream curving through the densely packed trees.
There are no monkeys now. I’ve stolen along this path on nights darker than this, and even then there would be frogs in the ponds with their low mating calls, bats clicking over the tree canopies, demons humming from within their hollows.
I cannot remember the jungle so quiet. It disquiets me.
While I ride astride my sister’s back, Ukar slithers off my shoulders, weaving through the thick layers of mossy undergrowth. We move through the forest. He is joined by his many brothers and sisters, my brave army of snakes. They hiss often at Hokzuh, and chatter about him as they follow. Has our Lady Green Snake gone out of her mind? Allying herself with a dragon demon? they mutter. No, no. We must trust her. And Ukar.
Snakes, always such gossips. More than ever, I find their nattering a comfort. It fills the eerie silence between footsteps. The loudest silence of all is my sister’s.
I cling to Vanna’s back, wondering what can be on her mind as she leads us through the forest, passing by the waterfall where she taught me to swim. “To the left,” I murmur into her ear. “Straight past the hidden hills.”
I’ve never taken her to the crooked tree where Angma cursed me, but she’s heard the story so many times, she never asks me to repeat my directions. Like me, she instinctively knows the way.
Finally, the air becomes cold, and I slide off my sister’s back.
I smell cloves.
The odor is faint, buried beneath layers of smoke and fungus and rot. But it is unmistakable.
I catch my breath, sucking it in. Vanna’s pearl barely illuminates what lies ahead—a grove of headless clove trees, all diseased and withered. Lights dance within, low and in a wavering pattern. They look like fireflies buzzing over puddles of rain, but fireflies do not glow red in the dark.
Suiyaks pop out of the dead trees, their white tresses catching in the brittle branches like webs.
“Vanna!” I shout.
They begin to swarm us, their snarls surging into a violent cacophony. And they aren’t alone. Demons leap out of the dark, joining them in staggering numbers.
I know these demons. They live in the dark crevices of the forest, inside the tree hollows, under the waterfall overhangs. At first glance, most look like ordinary beasts, except with a few peculiar traits: an extra ear, lizard skin instead of fur, a mismatched tail. Always, red eyes. They thrive on mischief, stealing glittery trinkets from our cupboards and inviting ants to raid our kitchens. It isn’t like them to attack.
But these creatures aren’t like other demons; their eyes are glazed with gold. They’re under Angma’s control, and they must do her bidding. Unfortunately, that means they’re out to kill us.
I fight wildly. I don’t want to hurt them, but we have to get to the crooked tree.
While Hokzuh and Oshli focus on the demons, I turn my attention to the suiyaks. They’ve clustered around Vanna and are trying to carry her up into the sky. Together, my sister and I fight back. Vanna, who’s never so much as swatted a mosquito, surprises me with her violence. She tears into their necks and rips out their throats. The next time I glance over, she’s drinking one of the suiyaks’ blood.
If I had free hands, I would clap. I have no idea whether suiyak blood will satiate my sister’s hunger, but it is quite satisfying to watch.
More demons keep coming, and in spite of our small victories, it’s an unpleasant truth that when the enemy is stronger, fights in greater numbers, and is near impossible to kill, the odds are in their favor.
“Stay together!” I yell, rounding Vanna to my side and grabbing Oshli by the arm.
The young shaman pants as he runs. He’s out of arrows, and the fighting edge of his ritual staff has been broken off. I’m surprised he’s still alive. Even more surprised that he’s still whole. Perhaps all his praying has paid off after all.
While Hokzuh barrels through the demons, clearing a path so we can continue forward, I wave on the snakes.
It’s time, I inform them.
Ukar’s kin never cease to amaze me. In a fluid motion, they use their bodies to form a ring around Vanna and Oshli, braiding their tails and looping their necks until the snakes form a continuous circle.
Once the circle is made, the demons cannot cross it, no matter how they try. The suiyaks too are blocked. I’ve always known that snakes have some mysterious power against demons. But now I’m guessing it’s a sort of divine amends against Hanum’anya’s Great Betrayal.
“They’ll protect you,” I tell Vanna. “Stay here until Hokzuh gives the signal.”
Our protections won’t last, Ukar warns me. Go now.
Quickly, I race beyond the treeline, toward the rock. On the way, the demons swarm me. If they can’t get to Vanna, then I’m the next best option. I tear through their ranks, choking on the acrid smell of demon blood. Yet no matter how hard I fight to press on, more demons come. My arms grow tired, my muscles strained. I let out a cry. I haven’t come so far and gotten so close just to lose everything.
