A World Without Heroes - Brandon Mull [163]
He scanned the cell with new intensity. There was no loose article he could use as a weapon, not even a pebble. Though not perfectly smooth, the stone walls were unclimbable, devoid of any handholds.
The snake uncurled and slithered lazily toward Jason. He backed away. Suddenly it advanced toward him with alarming speed. He had to run in a wide circle to keep away from it, splashing through the puddle.
Jason stood watching the serpent, his body tense, as if he were about to steal a base. The snake raised its head, its flat black eyes expressionless, and probed the air with its tongue.
Without warning the snake streaked toward him again. It seemed to be trying to shepherd him toward the corners of the room, but Jason kept dodging around it before he became trapped.
Moving strategically, he got the puddle between himself and the snake, but the snake went right through it.
Eventually the snake stopped again.
This was a pretty devilish torture. He could evade the snake for a long while, but without intervention the aggressive serpent would eventually strike him. He couldn’t stay awake forever.
“My only hope is to kill you,” Jason told the snake. It had curled up, tucking its head away in its coils.
“Are you peeking at me?” Jason asked, squatting.
The snake did not move.
“You really came after me. I had no idea any snakes were so aggressive. Did they train you to hunt people?”
The snake offered no response.
Jason scratched above his ear. How could he kill a poisonous snake when he had lots of exposed skin and no weapons? He wished he had retained the bread. That crust might have been hard enough to do some damage. Of course, his jailers had probably confirmed that he had eaten it before placing the snake in with him.
What about the tiny cloth he was wearing? Wrapping it around his hand might offer a little extra protection. Then again it was nice to have a little extra protection right where it was.
Jason supposed that if he could grab the snake just below the head, he could crush it against the walls or ground. Or if he got it by the tail and kept swinging it really fast, he might be able to bash it to death against the floor.
Now seemed like a good time to try. The snake had not stirred since it coiled up.
Jason could not see the head, but the tail was in plain view. He would have to grab it and start twirling violently. Even then the serpent might be strong enough to turn and strike him, no matter how vigorously he whirled it.
Holding his breath, Jason crept closer, one hand stretched forward. He was only a couple of feet away. Suddenly the snake struck, the head moving in a blur. Jason jerked his hand back and leaped away, letting out an involuntary shout.
The snake had moved too early. It had missed.
The serpent reared up, and for the first time a hood unfolded. It was some kind of cobra.
The snake stayed coiled, but the hooded head rose higher, swaying gently.
Jason backed to the far side of the cell.
Head high, hood spread, it came at him. The hood made it scarier. As before, Jason ran around and around until the snake stopped pursuing. It finally curled up again.
Jason stood panting, staring at the sinuous loops of blue and violet coils. There was no way he could grab the snake faster than it could strike. He considered going over to the snake and letting it bite him. It was bound to happen eventually. Unless this was some sort of test. Maybe if he lasted long enough, his jailers would come take the serpent away.
Incalculable hours passed. Periodically the snake would charge him, but never with the prolonged vigor of the earlier attacks.
Jason dreaded the drowsiness he felt overcoming him. He slapped himself. He splashed water in his face. He spit water at the snake, which hissed loudly in response, for the first time baring a pair of slim, curved fangs.
“Nice teeth,” Jason said. “Hollow, right? Like a pair of syringes for injecting venom. Oh, I know a thing or two about snakes, pal. Just because