well that I couldn’t determine where the rest of it lay.
I closed my eyes and projected into the snake’s mind. It had looped part of its body between two branches, creating a flat net now closing around me. Pulling my switchblade from my pocket, I triggered the blade.
When the heavy coils of the snake dropped onto my shoulders, I knew I had mere seconds before the predator would wrap around my throat like a necklace and choke me to death. I sensed satisfaction from the snake as it moved to tighten its hold.
I stabbed my knife into the snake’s thick body. Would the Curare on the blade affect the creature? Mild pain from the thrust registered in the snake’s mind, but it considered the wound minor.
The snake contracted around me, trapping my legs and left arm. I realized the necklace snake held me aloft. If I cut through its coils, I would plummet to the ground.
Another loop brushed my face as the snake tried to encircle my neck. I pushed it away with my free arm. A coil slid up my back.
Deciding the odds of surviving a fall were better than dying by strangulation, I stabbed my blade in the nearest coil with the intention of sawing through it. Before I applied more pressure, the creature stopped.
Perhaps Curare had paralyzed the snake. I pulled the blade out and the snake resumed its tightening. The Curare hadn’t worked. But when I reinserted the knife, the creature paused. Odd. I must have found a vulnerable area. We were at an impasse.
Through my link with its mind, I sensed the snake’s hunger warring with its desire to live. I tried to control the predator’s will, but our minds were too incompatible. Even though I could feel its intentions, I couldn’t direct its movements.
I wanted to avoid killing the snake, but I could see no other way. Once dead, I should be able to cut my way back into the trees.
“Hello. Is someone in there?” a man’s voice asked.
My struggle with the snake had seized all my attention. Cursing myself for forgetting the man, I directed my mind into the tree canopy and encountered the well-protected thoughts of another magician. But Warper or Story Weaver, I couldn’t tell.
“Has the snake got your tongue?” He laughed at his own joke. “I know you’re there. I felt your power. If you don’t belong in the jungle, I’ll gladly let the snakes have you for dinner.”
“Snakes?” I asked. His speech patterns sounded familiar. Not Daviian. Not Sandseed. I hoped Zaltana.
“Your necklace snake has sent a call for help. You might kill this one and untangle yourself, but by then its kin will be here to finish the job.”
I scanned the jungle canopy and, sure enough, I felt five other snakes moving toward me.
“What if I do belong in the jungle?” I asked.
“Then I’ll help you. But you’d better make a strong case. Strange things have been happening lately.”
I thought fast. “I’m Yelena Liana Zaltana. Daughter of Esau and Perl and sister to Leif.”
“Common knowledge. You have to do better.”
Soul mate to Valek, the scourge of Sitia, I thought, but knew that wouldn’t help my case. I searched my mind for a bit of information only the Zaltanas knew. The problem was, since I had been raised in Ixia, I knew only a few things about my lost clan.
“I could send you on a wild-valmur chase, but wouldn’t it be easier if I gave you a piece of sap candy?” I held my breath, waiting.
Just when I was convinced I would have to cut my way out of the snake before its brothers arrived, a low drumbeat throbbed. More beats followed. The vibrations pulsed through the snake.
The snake relaxed. A gap appeared above my head and a green painted face smiled down at me.
He extended his hand, which was also camouflaged. “Grab on.”
I clasped his wrist. He pulled me from the snake’s net and onto a solid branch. Relief puddled in my knees and I had to sit down.
The man’s clothes matched the jungle’s colors and patterns. He placed a leather drum on the branch and played another song. The snake unraveled and disappeared into the jungle.
“That should hold them off for a while,” he said.
From his clothes and dyed-olive hair color, I knew the man had to be a Zaltana. I thanked him for helping me.
His answering nod reminded me of someone. “Who are you?” I asked.
“Your cousin, Chestnut. I was out on patrol when you were here the last time so I didn’t get a chance to meet you.”
After living in Ixia for fourteen years, I had finally returned to a home I hadn’t known existed. It had been such an emotional whirlwind, and I had met so many cousins, aunts and uncles it was unlikely I would have remembered him even if I had been introduced to him.
Seeing no sign of recognition on my face, he added, “I’m one of Nutty’s brothers.”
Nutty’s stories about her siblings had been humorous and I remembered a game I used to play with her against her brothers before my kidnapping.
“How did you control the snake?” I asked.
“I’m a snake charmer,” he said as if the title explained everything. But when I failed to respond, he said, “It’s part of my magic. The necklace snakes are very hard to spot. Not only do they blend in so well, but also they mask their life energy. Even if you’re able to sense the other jungle animals you probably wouldn’t feel the snakes. Not until it was too late.” He rubbed his hands together in appreciation. “They usually hunt alone, but if one gets into trouble it can call to the others with a low sound we can’t hear. My magic allows me to locate the snakes and hear their calls. And my drum is my way to talk to them. It doesn’t work on the other animals.” He shrugged. “But I keep the snakes away from our homestead.”
“You were out on patrol when you heard my snake?” Funny how I had become possessive of the creature that had tried to squash and eat me.
“Yes. Although, when I left this morning, I had hoped to find more than snakes.” He gave me an odd look. “I guess I just did. Why are you here, Yelena?”
“I’m following a group of people who had been living in the plateau,” I said. “They came through here. Has anyone seen them?” But what I really wanted to ask was had they attacked the clan? Were my mother and father okay?
“Seen? No. Strangers are in the jungle, but we can’t find them and …” He paused, probably considering what information he should divulge. “Perhaps it would be best for you to talk to our clan elders. Are you alone?”
“No. My brother and some Sandseeds are traveling with me.”
“In the trees?”
“On the ground.” I told Chestnut about the attack and how I had been acting as a scout for our group.
Chestnut accompanied me to the Zaltana homestead. It contained a vast network of living, sleeping and cooking areas connected by bridges and suspended above the ground. Hidden by the thick jungle vegetation, the homestead was hard to find, but once inside the complex, I continued to be amazed the tree canopy could camouflage such a collection of rooms.
Built of wood, the floors of the buildings were anchored to wide branches. Ivy grew on the outside of all the walls to hide their shape. Almost all of the furniture was constructed of wood, and rope hammocks provided comfortable places to sleep. Handcrafts made of jungle items like seeds and sticks decorated the various rooms, including animal sculptures created by colored pebbles glued together.
The main throughway of the homestead tended to be common areas of each of the families within the clan. The living and sleeping quarters branched off from the public rooms.
Besides being extensive, the homestead was also