Queen of Kings - Maria Dahvana Headley [80]
She swayed above his face, looking at him through a serpent’s gaze, her spine arching as she drew back to strike. His eyelids fluttered. Yes. She wanted him awake.
Feed.
A sound from the hallway startled her, and she turned to see her daughter in the open doorway, her steps as slow and light as a sleepwalker’s, her hands filled with a bouquet of what first seemed to be flowers and then seemed to be birds. A strange fragrance followed the girl, something dark and ashen.
Selene turned to look into the room, her eyes dazed, and Cleopatra felt herself falter.
Her daughter took a step forward, blinking into the shadows at the serpent that coiled atop the emperor’s chest.
Selene’s eyes widened. She dropped the bouquet, and the songbirds scattered to the ceiling.
The girl screamed, her piercing voice tearing through the Palatine.
Cleopatra tore herself from the emperor’s bed, disobeying Sekhmet’s hunger.
She was gone before Augustus’s eyes were fully open.
13
A grippa spun and raced from his quarters at the sound of the screams, certain that it must be the Greek witch in Augustus’s room. He knew he should not have left him alone with her the night before. The emperor was a fool when it came to women. But why was she screaming?
The general sprinted down the hallway and into the room, his sword drawn, only to stumble over Selene crumpled on the floor. Augustus was still in bed, staring out the unshuttered window, tightly wrapped in his coverlet and shivering. He remained there even as Agrippa shouted his name. No one else was visible.
The Psylli was close on Agrippa’s heels, and when he saw that there was no enemy in the room, he fell to his knees beside the girl, checking her heartbeat.
“What is it?” Agrippa shouted, spinning in search of the villain. Selene took a gasping breath. The emperor said nothing, and Agrippa turned his attention to her. “What did you see?”
The little girl shook her head weakly. Her skin was too pale, and her eyes were oddly dilated.
“A snake,” Selene said, her voice quivering.
“A snake,” Augustus whispered, and Agrippa tore the coverlet from his bed. There was nothing there.
Agrippa took a threatening step toward the Psylli.
“Have you let a serpent loose in the emperor’s house?”
“Not one of mine,” Usem said. “They are all accounted for, safe in my chamber. I told you. You do not know what it is you fight.”
“It went out the window,” Augustus managed, pointing his finger. Agrippa crossed the room at top speed, placing himself beside the window frame. He angled his eyes cautiously downward, scanning for threats.
All he saw was the clay-daubed hut of Romulus, founder of Rome. The emperor had built his house in order to be near the landmark. The hut was his special prize.
“Is someone concealed there? Tell me where he is,” Agrippa whispered.
Augustus did not answer for a moment, and Agrippa shifted, grasping his sword more tightly and raising his shield to barricade the window.
“She,” said Selene. “It wasn’t a man.”
“No,” Augustus interrupted. “It was nothing. Take the child away. I did not sleep well, and I scared her. I thought I felt a serpent in my bed. I thought I saw someone climbing out my window.”
“I saw it, too,” Selene protested.
“Take her to her chamber,” Augustus insisted. “She does not belong here. This is a conversation for men, not children. This is a discussion of war.”
The Psylli took the child from the room, looking over his shoulder at Agrippa and Augustus. A breeze stirred the girl’s hair, and in the emperor’s room, the curtains blew suddenly out from the window.
In the hallway outside the chamber, Auðr stood against the wall, trembling. She had felt the line of Cleopatra’s fate slithering into the residence, and shifted the emperor’s fate just in time, pulling Selene’s thread to bring her past the bedroom door. Now she would pay the price of working such magic without preparation. She felt as though she were drowning.