As the cultists brought out rope for the next part of the ruse, Terry sidled over to Calvin. “Were these guys in on the plan, Chet?”

  Shale looked over. “Yeah, what’s going on?”

  “They weren’t with us before,” Calvin said, “but they are now.”

  “But how do you know we can trust them?” Terry asked. “They’re kinda creepy.”

  “They’re Bob’s cousins. They’re happy to help him out.”

  Terry frowned. “I’m confused.”

  “How many times have I led a failed mission, Terry?”

  Terry bit his lip. “Only that last one.”

  “Just one. One that I paid dearly for. Do you think I’d risk that again?”

  Terry looked down.

  “Terry, do you trust me?”

  He nodded. “I do, Chet. If anybody can get us through this, you can.”

  Shale folded her arms. “Are you missing the fact that those guys only changed their minds after swallowing live snakes? Is that not strange to you?”

  “I think it’s most peculiar,” Arg said. “The snakes came from Edwin and went into the cultists. Then they let us free?”

  “It’s not important,” Calvin said. “They’ll help complete the mission. That’s all that matters.”

  “Still,” Arg said, “I wonder where the snakes first came from. Perhaps that’s how these cults make their cultists. And Edwin was on our side, so when they attacked him, his snakes went into them and killed the snakes that live in them?”

  Calvin sighed. “Very creative, Arg, but I don’t think so. Let’s get moving.”

  “Yes, onward and upward!” Julius declared. “A hero always welcomes allies, no matter their eccentricity!” He clapped one of the cultists on the back. The cultist grimaced, clutching his stomach, then straightened and gave Julius a small smile.

  “A bit too hard, friend.”

  “Oh, my bad,” Julius said. “I forget sometimes.” He wagged a finger. “Got to be gentle with unarmored folks.”

  The cultists led Calvin’s crew by a rope through the adjacent storage room. Three more dirt snake tables stood by the walls inside, and Calvin glared at them as if enough anger could bring Edwin back.

  Bob stood near one of them, pretending to straighten some jars of venom and coils of rope. He gave Calvin a thumbs-up. “You’re good to go, sir. They’ve rooted themselves in the snakes and await Waska’s arrival.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “How soon will that be?” Calvin asked flatly.

  “Might be hours yet, sir. But I might be able to persuade him to come sooner.”

  Calvin nodded, and Bob ran off. The rest of them proceeded into the audience room. It was painfully reminiscent of the prison. It was larger and rounder, but most of the floor was covered in those dirt snakes. Several ranks of Hark’akuy knelt amid the snakes. Their heads turned to watch as Calvin’s crew entered, but the snakes held them in place.

  Two Binders stood by the opposite door, free of the snakes. Like the other Binders Calvin had seen, they had black snakes for arms and yellow eyes. They weren’t bound by the dirt snakes. They cocked their heads at the crew and came up to speak to the cultists leading them.

  “What are you doing? It isn’t nearly time.”

  Calvin’s cultist shrugged. “We thought we’d save Waska some trouble. Better to have them walk than have to carry them.”

  “But how did you get them to be so docile?”

  “We made their Unichi leader hypnotize them to follow us.” The cultist smiled. “We told him we’d free him if he did it. We freed him from life.”

  The Binders chuckled. “Go on then.”

  They opened the door, and the cultists led the crew into the chamber. The walls were much like the others in the complex: rough-hewn stone carved with intricate serpent decorations. They rose in a dome, centered on a large crystal orb set into the ceiling. The orb glowed a soft white-orange, the surface scuffed in places to imitate the craters of the moon. Centered directly below the orb, a circle of dirt snakes covered the floor, eight feet in diameter. The rest of the floor was smooth stone, expanding another eight feet from the perimeter of the dirt.

  Calvin dropped the rope, directed his crew to take up positions around the edge of the room, and set up a rotation for people to listen for Waska’s approach. The cultists left to report that they’d paralyzed the prisoners. Then they’d go to hasten Waska’s arrival.

  Calvin leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. His stomach twisted. He shouldn’t be letting his failure distract him from the mission. But he refused to heed it, instead taking the pain as a tiny penance for letting Edwin die.

  Pelias nudged him. “Pull it together, Calvin. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Not for a couple hours.”

  “Still, we need you to be alert. I don’t want your sentimentality getting me killed.”

  Calvin cracked his eyes open. Pelias was right. He couldn’t afford to let this loss drag him down. He’d ruin the mission and get the rest of his crew killed. “I’ll try.”

  Pelias glared. “Trying isn’t good enough.”

  “Fine. I’ll get over it. Just give me a couple minutes.” He hated it, but he had to get his attitude back in hand to finish the mission. I've lost crewmates before, he thought, trying to reason his way out of the grief. But then, those losses had been retirements, not deaths. Sure, he hadn’t seen Danti, Ruven, or the others since their retirements, but at least they still lived. Calvin hadn’t led them to their deaths.

  He gritted his teeth. Pelias was right. The least he could do was postpone the grief and focus on the task at hand. It took him a minute, but he shook himself and put Edwin out of his mind. His stomach relaxed, and he was ready.

  Waska came sooner than Calvin had dared hope. The door flew open. Bob and their four other Hark’akuy cultists came in first, beaming with pride at how quickly they’d lured Waska into the trap. Waska himself followed. He was a massive black serpent with a muscular torso and six snake arms, each ending in a serpent’s head. A pair of humanoid arms stuck out from between them, one holding a ceremonial knife, the other with a long, curved sword. His belly plates were slate grey, and ridges of orange scales stuck out over his eyes and ran down his back.

  Without even looking at Calvin’s crew, he shoved his former cult followers into the circle of dirt snakes and spat after them. The snakes rose up and grabbed the cultists, pulled them to the ground, and wrapped tightly around their throats.

  Calvin moved to pull them out, but his stomach clenched, and he froze. Waska whipped around to fix him with his yellow stare. Three Binders burst into the room, their arm-snakes hissing and spitting.

  Waska smiled and pulled his coils beneath him. “You think I would let Tikray get the jump on me?” And he sprang at Calvin.