The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [76]
Thorn returned Steel to her sheath, then untied the masking bag and pulled it from her head. The only light in the room came from the dying embers laid around Sheshka’s sand pit. After her time in the bag, the light was dizzying. She took a moment to orient herself.
The medusa queen was stretched out on the black sand, naked except for the silver pectoral pendant that hung between her breasts. Most of her body was covered with gleaming coppery scales, but her breasts and belly were paler, slightly iridescent, like the underbelly of a true serpent. The snakes of her mane were spread out around Sheshka’s head, coiled on or around small stones scattered across the pit; their tiny black eyes gleamed in the remnants of the firelight. The basilisk, Szaj, lay next to his queen, curled up like a dog, one of its eight legs kicking slightly against the sand.
Thorn pulled up her mask to hide her lower face, and raised the hood of her cloak. Though she intended to blind Sheshka, she saw no sense in taking unnecessary risks. She hadn’t studied medusa anatomy, but most humanoid creatures had the same basic vulnerabilities. With Sheshka spread-eagled as she was, a number of nerve clusters were available to choose from. One blow should take her down for at least a minute, she reasoned. Bag her, deal with faithful Szaj, then bind her and locate Harryn.
It was a good plan. Even beyond the magical field, Thorn’s footsteps were as silent as moonlight. Szaj didn’t stir as she approached with the hood in her hands. Sheshka was resting peacefully.
But her hair wasn’t.
Thorn was halfway to the bed when she realized that one of the serpents had shifted position. The viper stared right at her. All of the snakes had their eyes open. She hesitated, and that moment of doubt saved her life. When Sheshka’s eyes snapped open, Thorn saw only the faintest glimmer of golden light before she closed her own eyes. She leaped back and Steel was in her hand, ready to throw.
“Who dares?” Sheshka said, her voice low and deadly. She was standing, and Thorn could hear the blade in her hand as it cut through the air, and the hissing of her angry vipers. The basilisk snarled. Thorn’s intuition painted a picture in her mind. The medusa queen was standing in the middle of her sand pit, Szaj at her side, a storm of serpents writhing around her face. She held a short, curved sword—the same weapon she’d threatened Toli with.
“Be calm, great queen.” Thorn lowered her voice. It wouldn’t do to have the medusa recognize her as the Brelish attaché. “I am here to negotiate.”
Sheshka hissed, and Thorn didn’t know if it was anger or a medusa’s laughter. “Lay down your weapon, envoy, and open your eyes. Then I’ll hear your plea, if you have voice left to speak.”
As angry as she was, Sheshka had not attacked, and the basilisk remained at her side. Curiosity or concern, this was promising.
“I will not surrender without a fight, Queen Sheshka. And believe me, you do not want that battle.”
“And why is that, assassin? You think you can best me with your eyes shut? Once I have crippled you, I will cut away your eyelids.” Sheshka’s serpents hissed in strange patterns, one after the other; it was a strange and distracting sound.
“I’m sure that I can’t defeat you, mighty Sheshka. But I assure you of one thing.” As she spoke, she threw Steel toward the ceiling, then plucked the spinning dagger from the air. Now Sheshka knew Thorn could fight without her eyes. She was surrendering a tactical advantage, but she didn’t want to fight. “Should we cross blades, I will kill Szaj.”
“What do you want?” Sheshka hissed, her voice colder than any serpent.
“I seek the return of someone stolen from our lands. Free him, and we can end this peacefully.”
“And my compensation for this indignity? Do