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Yes, and you’d be a fool not to be wary of it. Your sister barely wielded its power. That won’t be the same for you, Channi. It will ruin you—if you aren’t careful. But it may also save you.
The pearl thumps in my chest. It is a sly and loathsome thing; I can’t imagine how it might save me. “You’re speaking in prophecies.”
You’ll have to get used to that, I’m afraid. Ukar blinks. His pupils are larger than I remember, deeper too. They look ancient, almost.
“Ukar…you look different.”
Do I? Amusement edges his voice. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.
There’s a hood along his neck that wasn’t there before. He’s grown wider and longer, and his scales have a vibrancy to them that makes their surroundings blur. It’s like an invisible aura, and I gasp with awe. “You’re…you’re the Serpent King!”
Don’t bow, Ukar warns. But it’s too late, and he groans when I do.
“How…when?”
When I woke, I was like this. Changed…but not as changed as you.
A lump lodges itself in the back of my mouth, and I cannot speak.
You are stronger than the pearl, Channi. That is why it chose you. That is why the last king said what he did. Because everything was leading to this: you and the pearl together.
“I don’t want it,” I say vehemently.
And I don’t want this, he says, flaring his hood. But some roles are cast upon us, and we must play them until death. This is only the beginning of our burden.
I exhale a ragged breath. You sound more like a father now than a best friend.
It’s all that royal poison in my throat, Ukar grumbles.
I might not be able to muster a smile or a laugh, but a touch of the heaviness in my heart is lifted. For now, that’s enough.
I place a kiss on his head and drape him over my shoulders. “Come, Your Majesty, let’s see what mess the demons made of Adah’s house.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
I am sweeping ash in the courtyard when my father returns to Sundau. At first, I don’t hear him. I’ve been alone for over a week. So except for Ukar and his kin, I’m not expecting anyone.
The gate groans open, and Adah’s footsteps clip down the stone pathway into the courtyard. I stop sweeping, but I don’t look up.
“So many snakes,” Adah mutters, kicking at them until they scatter into the garden.
I rap the end of my broom against the ground. “Stop.”
That is when Adah sees me, and the look he gives is one I’ve seen only in my dreams: there is tenderness in his eyes, and his arms open for an embrace.
“Daughter! Will you not welcome your father home?”
I don’t move. I may wear Vanna’s face, but my memories are my own. I remember each time Adah flinched at the sight of me, each time he took a fishing rod and beat me across my back. In my coldest voice, I say, “Welcome home.”
His gaze falls upon my unkempt hair and dirty face, which seem to upset him more than my brusque tone. “You cut your hair,” he blurts.
I clutch the end of my broom so I don’t lash out and break his other wrist. For the sake of Vanna’s memory, I bridle the anger inside me.
But even the tamest snake can still bite.
“My sister is dead,” I say piercingly. “It is appropriate.”
Adah summons just the right amount of sorrow on his face. I suspect he practiced on his way. “Forgive me. I heard about Channari. We will make suitable arrangements at the temple—”
