As I waited for an answer or a vision, I smoothed the hair back from Ana’s face. Her dark lashes looked like little crescent moons on her cheeks. Her hot skin burned with fever and there was nothing I could do to bring it down. I didn’t have any of Kelsey’s medicine. The only magical object I possessed was the truth stone, and though it flickered, it wasn’t helping. I didn’t want to risk leaving her side to scout for herbs or plants that would help break her fever and doubted I’d find what I needed anyway.
Taking her swatch of fabric, I bathed her face and sat by her side. Pressing a cool cloth to her neck and arms, I talked to her. When she groaned and thrashed, I held her close, trying to soothe her, and when she lay still, her breathing becoming more shallow, I massaged her hands and begged her to get well.
I kept her as hydrated as I could and cursed the fact that we had no modern hospital where I could take her. Perhaps she’d been bitten by a mosquito carrying disease. Maybe her illness was a result of the storm or something left over from her abuse. Whatever it was, it ravaged her young body. She was dying and there was nothing I could do about it except watch.
One day passed and then a second and a third. Sensing her strength waning with each passing hour, I squeezed the juice from the last few fruits and urged her to drink. Coaxing damp wood to light, I made a broth from the dried meat but she couldn’t keep it down.
I kept the truth stone next to her and spoke to it often, coaxing, begging, threatening, and cursing it. Desperate, I placed her hands on top of the stone so it was pressed against her chest like a doll might have been, and cried, “It’s yours now, Ana. Take it! Let the power of it fill you. Heal you. Please.” Her limp hands fell away so I picked them up and placed mine on top. “The phoenix burned Kelsey,” I murmured, “but it brought her back. Do the same for Ana,” I pleaded to the stone. “You must. Her heart is worthy.”
The flaming heart inside the stone remained mute. I stared into it for hours, polishing it to a shine, hoping the magic inside it would work. Hours later, to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied, I combed out Ana’s hair, braided and retied it. I told her story after story in a lively voice, hoping it would rouse her. On the fourth morning, I knew she was getting close to the end. There was so much I hadn’t told her, so much I’d held back.
I let it all out—apologizing for my stiff-necked pride and my surly attitude when I’d been left behind. Rubbing my thumb over her fingers, I told her about all my forsaken dreams and hopes. Speaking of the battles we’d fought together, I whispered words of admiration and respect and said she was the most amazing creature I’d ever beheld.
As her shallow breaths grew further apart, I clutched her hand to my cheek and cried with all the feeling my younger heart had held for her. Then I kissed each of her fingers and sobbed for the experiences I’d never to get to have with her. Without Ana, there was nothing left for me. I’d failed her. I’d failed the entire world. “What am I going to do without you?” I whispered.
When she let out a final breath, her little chest rising and falling for the last time, something in me broke. It was over. I’d failed. The goddess would never be born. Never save anyone. Ren and Kelsey would never meet. Everything and everyone I knew was gone. I was alone.
Terribly. Utterly. Alone.
Reaching up to my neck, I yanked the Damon Amulet hard enough to break the leather tie and rubbed my thumb over the tiger. Gently, I set it on Ana’s chest and folded her small hands across it so that the medallion peeked out from between her fingers.
Emotionally drained, I ran a hand over my still-damp eyes and through my hair. I’d have to bury her. Though I knew I needed to do something, my body wouldn’t move. How could I put her in the ground? Cover such a beautiful face with gravel and dirt?
Sinking my face into my hands, I gave myself over to sobs, and such was the depth of my sorrow that I didn’t hear the cracking at first. When the sound finally registered, I lifted my eyes and dashed the tears away so I could see. The truth stone was trembling where it lay next to Ana’s body. A long, jagged split appeared down the middle of it, and then another fissure shot out from the side.
It was hatching. How was it possible? The phoenix had said the egg was no longer viable after leaving the fire realm.
A chunk of stone crumbled and fell aside and a tongue shot out from the interior. I sat there, frozen in place. Did the phoenix have a tongue like that? I couldn’t remember. It looked more like a dragon tongue than that of the fiery bird. Leaning closer, I peered inside but couldn’t see anything except the outer sparkle of the gemstone. Then a head appeared.
It was golden with tiny green eyes the exact same shade as Ana’s. The head disappeared back inside the stone again, and I said, “It’s safe. If you want to come out, I won’t hurt you.”
The tongue flicked out again and then the beast emerged. Quickly the creature slid out of the stone and its body pooled in a circle next to it. It raised its head and swayed in the air, opening its hood. It was a cobra. A newborn. The width of its body was as small as my pinky finger and its length was only about ten inches.
“Look at you,” I said with an incredulous gasp. “You look like Fanindra.”
Perhaps I should have been afraid but I wasn’t. I’d lost everything, and if death by magical snakebite was my fate, then so be it. I held out a finger and the tiny snake wound around it. I stroked the white belly and it darted out its tongue and touched it to my fingernail. The tongue was white, which was rare for cobras. Frowning, I turned my finger to study the back of the hood. The patterns of scales were lighter than Fanindra’s but they appeared to be identical.
“Are you related to Fanindra?” I asked it out loud, trying to puzzle out how a baby cobra ended up in a phoenix egg. The silly smile melted away quickly as I remembered Anamika and wiped a tear from my eye.
The snake, of course, didn’t answer.
Holding her gently, I explained, “Fanindra was a glorious, golden cobra. She belonged to the goddess Durga,” I said when she angled her tiny head to the body at my side. “If my Ana was still alive, you would belong to her too, I suppose.”
Stretching her sinuous form, she dropped down onto Ana’s arm and slid up to her hands. The baby snake flicked her tongue out and then moved closer to Ana’s head. The snake rose up as high as her little body would allow and peered into the young girl’s face. Then she opened her mouth and struck, her small fangs sinking deep into Anamika’s throat.
Chapter 22
The Fifth Sacrifice
Honestly, I didn’t know what to do. The snake was attached to Ana’s neck like a long leech. The cobra’s body undulated as it pumped golden venom into her pale neck. A trickle dribbled down slowly and it sparkled in the light of the fire.
“Go on,” I whispered to the newborn creature. “Please save her if you can.”
Finally, the snake detached, slipped over her shoulder, and disappeared beneath her hair. I just sat there, dumbfounded, unsure of what to do.
Snapping my mouth closed, I leaned forward. “Where’d you go, little snake?” I asked, hesitantly picking up Ana’s braid to look underneath. I found the tiny serpent curled up in a circle in the space just between Ana’s neck and the ground. Its head was resting on its top coil, emerald eyes shining in the dark hiding spot. I dropped the braid, leaving the snake alone, and wrapped my arms around my knees, drawing them up. I sat there for a long time, my forehead pressed against my knees, feeling numb.