Poison's Kiss (Poison's Kiss #1)(63)

I’m still staring at the dirt when I hear footfalls. I dive off the trail and press myself against a tree. The entire group of soldiers marches down the path, and they take a left now instead of a right. It seems sloppy to make such a basic mistake. Too sloppy. The only explanation is that there must have been a reason to go that way first. And then I see one of the men drinking from a canteen. Water. There must be a water source up there. I wait behind the tree until the group passes and they are far enough away that they won’t hear me. Then I follow the boot prints up the path to the right. Sure enough, a stream bubbles up from the rocks. It’s small, but it’s sufficient. I drink as much as I dare and then splash some water on my face and neck. My legs ache with exhaustion, but I keep picturing Mani, keep talking to him in my mind. I’m coming, monkey. Hang on, I’m coming.

I fall into a rhythm with the Raja’s men, following their footprints up the right trails and up the wrong ones too, where there’s always water waiting for me. My hike becomes so mechanical that I’m barely thinking anymore—right turn, right turn, left turn, left turn—and so I nearly walk headlong into where the soldiers have stopped to make camp. They are fanned out on either side of the trail, and I spot them just in time to hide before they see me. My heart is pounding in my chest. Why are they stopping? It’s nearly nightfall. Are they not planning on confronting the Naga after all? The wind rushes through the trees above me and that’s when I smell it.

The unmistakable odor of snake.





“The Naga are due to arrive at dusk.”

I’m hiding in a copse of trees, listening to an older soldier talk to a younger one. For perhaps the first time in my life, I’m grateful to Gopal for teaching me to be invisible, to see without being seen.

“But won’t they see us as they pass?” the young soldier asks.

“No. Greffi’s group has spotted them coming from the other side of the mountain. They’ll enter the temple from there.”

My heart pinches at the thought of Mani trudging up this mountain to his own death, and I long to run to him. It’s all I can do to hold myself here and wait for an opportunity to slip past the soldiers. They’re too close right now—at least these two are. I’m holding my muscles so taut that they are trembling, but I’m afraid if I move an inch, if the soldiers hear so much as the rustle of a leaf, they will find me and kill me before I can get to Mani. The soldiers keep talking, and the conversation turns mundane—weapons, food, women—and I have to draw in slow, deliberate breaths to withstand the pain of keeping still.

But then my ears are filled with the thundering of footsteps, someone running toward the camp, and I can’t help it, I turn my head. A boy dressed in mottled clothing stops near the camp. His cheeks are bright red and he’s gasping for breath. All the soldiers are immediately on their feet, and at first I think they mean the boy harm. But, no. They stop short and wait for him to speak.

“They’re here!” the boy shouts. He puts his hands on his knees and sucks in a deep breath before he continues. “Somehow they got to the temple without us seeing them. The Naga are already here.”

I’m on my feet and running before I hear another word. I don’t even bother with the trail; I just scramble up the mountain, underbrush cutting into my calves and branches scratching my cheeks. The musky smell grows stronger the higher I climb, and I follow my nose all the way to the mouth of a cave. The reptilian stench curls from the opening and I clap my hand over my nose and mouth, but it’s too late. I fall to my knees and retch until my stomach is empty and then stand up and wipe my mouth on the back of my sleeve. I can hear the soldiers behind me, racing up the trail. I pull the dagger from my bag and tuck it into my waistband. I will kill any one of them who tries to stop me.

The cave opening is small and I have to stoop to get inside. Huge rocks litter the path and I carefully pick my way across them. The farther I get into the cave, the more the ceiling slopes downward. Eventually the only way through is on my hands and knees. Sharp stones cut into my palms and tear through my pants. I can hear the sound of water rushing somewhere beneath me and fear claws at my insides. Am I in the wrong cave? The musky smell has nearly vanished, and I don’t know if my nose has adjusted or if the odor really is gone. The cave is so dark I can’t even see my hands in front of me.

A spray of rocks tumbles past. It must be the soldiers, though they will have to enter the cave one at a time. But now I don’t know if they are chasing me or the Naga. I crawl faster. I can feel blood trickling from my palms. After what seems like an eternity, the path beneath me starts to smooth out and becomes moist and slippery. I reach a hand above me and find only air, so I try standing. The cave has finally opened up and now I can walk upright without bumping against the ceiling. I trail the fingers of one hand along the wall and hold the other hand out for balance. The sound of rushing grows louder and I feel a stab of worry that I’m about to walk headlong into swiftly moving water.

Finally I see light ahead and I speed up, moving as fast as I dare, keeping my fingers on the wall to steady me. As I get closer to the light, the sound grows too, reverberating off the walls and filling the cave. With a start I realize it isn’t water.

It’s chanting.

I hurry forward and step into a cavernous space with a soaring ceiling. Hundreds of candles are scattered throughout the room, casting flickering shadows on the walls of the cave. I take a step back so I can survey the area without being seen, so I can search for Mani. The Naga—perhaps twenty of them—sit in a semicircle, holding hands and chanting words I don’t understand. They are wearing hooded cloaks made to look like snake scales—copper-colored and gleaming in the candlelight. A shiver races up my spine. It’s impossible to see their faces, but none of them is small enough to be Mani. My eyes scan the room again and it’s all I can do not to cry out his name.