We stood facing the base of the mountain as we waited for dusk, Akshainie pacing around and idly kicking at rocks and snow.

"I do not see why I need legs now," she muttered, crossing her arms and sending a small puff of snow into the air, "no one can even see us."

"And will you have time to change if they arrive?"

"I do not know! But why can the humans not just know what I am, anyway?"

"It isn't that they can't. It's that they won't. They pride themselves on their very enlightened understanding of the world, and that which disagrees with it will either be dismissed or met with disdain. Besides, our work calls for a certain amount of finesse."

"I'll show you finesse, as soon as you fulfill your promise of letting me fight the Brood."

"I am working on it." She slumped down onto the seat next to me.

"Oh, yes, very important work, sitting outside some mountain you spent a week trying to convince yourself was worth the trouble. Why are you so concerned about this place, anyway?"

"It...I had planned to never return." She went to speak, but as the shadow of night fell over the rest of the mountain a distant singing drifted out on the breeze. She stopped and turned to face it.

"What is that?"

"Time to go," I answered, rising. I took a deep breath, gave a quick nod, and walked toward the mountain. The ladies greeted me as always, attempting to seduce me into staying with them, but soon took notice of Akshainie. Some asked if I had finally succumbed to the temptations of man, while others took to enticing Akshainie to stay. I tried my best to ignore the words and touches as I continued walking.

"This one's friendly," she said with a wry smirk, pointing at the succubus attempting to wrap her arms around Akshainie's bust.

"That is one way to describe them."

"Is this what you're so concerned about here? Oh! It is bad memories? Have you already-"

"I have chosen to turn my back on this place, but they are not the primary reason. And no, I know the price for entertaining their invitation; besides, my vow of celibacy would not allow it."

"Your father made a similar vow," one succubus said, seductively, as she ran her fingers along my jaw, "and yet, here-" I snapped my fingers and she fell to the ground with a yelp, clutching her head and whining softly as Akshainie stepped over her.

"How'd you do that?!" she demanded, pointing at the now-recovering succubus.

"They are mine. They were given to me, and as long as I am in this place they do whatever I desire. I desired for her to shut up." Akshainie glanced at the others, who had all backed away from us and fallen silent, and followed me into the mouth of the Venusberg.

Inside, the mistress of the mountain sat at the far end of a massive table overflowing with food and drink, surrounded by spirits and probably humans engaged in drunken, orgasmic revelry. She gasped and rose when she saw me enter, then ran over and gave me a hug.

"Oh, you've come back! I always knew you would. Has been a while, though, is it so hard to send a message once in a while telling me how you're doing? And you!" She proclaimed, turning to Akshainie and reaching out to embrace her. Akshainie growled and rested her hand on the hilt of one of her swords, and the goddess stopped. "Feisty," she said to me, "a perfect match."

"I'm not here for niceties," I said.

"Oh, no, of course not. You never are," she sighed, as she laid back on the table. She looked to Akshainie. "It's always business with this one. The humans have done a real number on him."

"I have noticed," Akshainie replied, giving me a sideways glance.

"I've come for the book," I said, stepping forward and attempting to cut off the line of that conversation. The goddess rolled her eyes and groaned, picking up a goblet of wine and taking a drink before she answered.

"What book?"

"The Book of Shadows."

"Oh, that dusty old thing? My dear, you didn't seem to want it, and it didn't exactly fit the aesthetic here." She waved her hand dismissively. "I sent it to Yggdrasil." I removed my glasses and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"I have come all this way to collect my book, which you gave me, and you don't even have it?"

"Well it serves you right!" she announced, jumping to her feet and tossing the goblet aside. A throng of naked beings flocked over to lap up the spilled wine as she stepped forward. "I have offered you everything, would give you the world! You were destined for a kingdom, and power, and all the joys that flesh of yours can ever hope to know, and all you have ever done is repay me with disrespect and derision! You take such great care to keep your little vows and commandments, but ignore the one about honoring me! Is this what it takes to have a simple conversation with you? If I'd known you would care about it so much, do you not think I would have kept it here waiting for you?"

"I know what you want from me, and how well you will dress up your offer to get it. But, I suppose, I have an appointment with Yggdrasil." I turned and began to walk away.

"Wait! Here," she said, turning around. I glanced back, and she produced from the table a platter of perfect shepherd's pie, "I'm sorry I yelled at you. For the road, perhaps?"

"I know better than to eat food from this realm. Goodbye, mother." With that, Akshainie and I left.

"What was that?" Akshainie called as she ran over to us. She stopped when she saw Henry, then turned to me. "You're a priest! Can you not simply heal him?"

"I do not think that word means what you think it means!" I answered.

"To the water!" She didn't even wait for us to acknowledge her words before she was off again, slithering through the cave at top speed. Tadzio and I looked at each other, then I threw Henry over my shoulder and ran after her.

When I got to the brook she was already in the water with her eyes closed, chanting and holding her hands over the surface. The water around her and under her hands was glowing. I knelt down at the edge of the water beside her, unsure what she wanted me to do.

"I am not a healer," she said, softly, "but if the River Network will allow it, I can buy him some time." I nodded, as I heard Tadzio approach and stop next to me. She held her arms out to me, and I handed Henry over and stood up to watch. As she lowered him into the glowing water, I glanced over and noticed Tadzio had the book.

"Why did you grab the book?!" I demanded.

"It may yet be useful," he answered. 

"I will get us the real thing, and that should not be in the hands of mortals!"

"Well it's a good thing I am no longer mortal, isn't it!"

"By the gods," Akshainie hissed, "could you idiots do that somewhere else?" I grunted and glared at Tadzio, whose eyes grew wide as the pages began to faintly glow again.

"Give me the book," I said. Tadzio handed it to me, and I walked about a hundred feet away and focused. The glow remained for a moment, then began to fade. Once it was gone, the book caught flame, and let out an otherworldly scream that sent birds flying away. I did not relent or let go of the book until it was completely consumed and the fire in my hand died out. I walked back to Tadzio, who was sulking.

"I would have probably been fine, but you know I would accept if I wasn't," he said.

"If and when you die, old man, it will not be just to prove me wrong."

"Oh, but now it must be! One last joke on my way out." Henry coughed, and we both knelt immediately to check on him. Akshainie was lifting him from the water and his wounds were still faintly glowing; they looked much better, but he would still need medical attention.

"Can you get him to a hospital?" Tadzio nodded, and Akshainie handed Henry to him.

"Will you not come with us?" I sighed.

"No," I said, looking to Akshainie. "I think we need to get that book, and I fear the fastest way is in this very brook." She smiled, extending her hand to me.

"Very well. It was good to meet you, Miss Akshainie. Bene, until next time." I nodded, and watched him run off with Henry before taking Akshainie's hand and falling beneath the brook into the River Network.

Henry finally pinpointed the location of this relic shortly after the rest of us had gone to bed, so despite his excitement it was generally agreed that we would set out first thing in the morning.

Where we were going was a cave about two miles from our cabin. It was near a few other small openings in the rocks, and apparently a significant portion of his time researching was learning which cave we wanted and which path to follow once we'd entered. We traveled light; while there was the possibility we would need to spend some time in the cave, Akshainie and I knew we could go an extended period without food and water and Tadzio brushed off any concern but made sure to grab his extra large travel mug for coffee, which meant only Henry had a day's worth of supplies on hand. Akshainie decided to grab a snack on the way, however, and snatched a couple fish out of a brook as we passed. She offered one to each of us, but Tadzio declined and Henry expressed concern about eating raw fish. She shrugged and started eating hers as it was; I heated mine up in my hands before doing the same.

I grew thankful for the time Henry spent in research when I saw how much of a maze the cave was. He had managed to draw up a map by piecing together accounts from various journals and interviews he had found, bought, or conducted himself, and that map led us well through the cave and only made us stop and verify our orientation twice. We finally found ourselves in a dead end chamber, engraved with symbols from all over the world that strongly resembled the markings I found in the cave where I first encountered the Brood. I informed Akshainie of this, and she demanded everyone stop and help record what we found. Henry pulled a digital camera from his bag, taught her how to use it, and then insisted the rest of us press on to the darker section ahead.

As we shone our lights on the end of the chamber, we found a rough-hewn pedestal with a large, dust-covered, leather-bound book. Henry blew it off, and I recognized the shifting letters on the cover.

"This is a replica of the Book of Shadows?" I asked.

"A replica?" Henry replied, turning to me.

"Why are we looking for the Book of Shadows?"

"Remember, when we first met, and I told you there was a rumored tome with all the information we could ever want about demonic forces? This is that book!"

"You seem concerned about this," Tadzio said.

"We could have saved a great deal of time if you had simply told me this is what we were looking for."

"You knew the Book of Shadows was here?!" Henry demanded.

"I know where the Book of Shadows is, and this is not the place."

"Why have you never mentioned this!? How long have you known?"

"I've always known. I...did not know it was relevant. I know where it is, I have never asked what it is."

"The Pope hiding it in his personal library, Bene?" Tadzio asked, leaning back against a wall.

"No, it..." I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "It does not belong to the Church. It belongs to me."

"You own this book and don't know what it is?" Henry yelled, picking up the book. I noticed a faint glow begin to emanate from the pages but did not have time to react before he grabbed the front cover. "This book contains everything, Benedict! You can track every demon in real time with it, if you can break the code!" He threw the cover open, and just as he went to point at something on the page a bolt of dark lightning erupted from the book and struck him in the chest. The book fell to the ground as Tadzio and I ran over to him. He was unconscious and barely breathing, his shirt torn open and his chest badly burned; the back of his head was bleeding from where it hit the wall, and his arm looked like it was laying wrong, possibly broken. Tadzio began cursing in Spanish as he checked Henry, then turned to me with fear in his eyes.

"I do not think there is a hospital close enough to save him," he said.

This Akshainie woman has been growing ever more impatient. Today she just stood there, staring at me and sharpening her swords, which was clearly a threat at least partly because I'm moderately confident they are actually the embodied concepts of swords, and not prone to wearing down like true metal. When she left the room for a bit, I left Henry with the translation work and slipped out. When she returned to check on us, I was staring at her and sharpening my swords. Turns out she's into it, and we spent the next two hours talking about technique.

I talked to Benedict later who pointed out that I had made it sound like we were ready for them when I told him about finding the tome, and I reminded him that he usually takes much longer to arrive than he did this time and we thought we had a few days to finish our preparations. I asked him if he honestly thought Henry and I call him as soon as we're ready to act and then sit around waiting for him to fly from Europe somewhere and deal with America's new customs requirements. He didn't answer, but I think he actually did think that.

He asked again what we were even looking for, and I told him I didn't know the name of the thing, just that it was a book Henry thinks he tracked down somewhere near our rented cabin in the Oregon wilderness; a book that may tell us much about the Brood of Nachash and Buné. He suggested I help keep Akshainie occupied by doing some sword training with her. I may try that.

I saw the damnedest thing today.

I was hiding out in that shack I've been working on, out on the beach there, when I saw two people just come walking up out of the water! One was a man, wearing a priest robe thing, with like the white patch on the collar and stuff, and he spoke in a German accent. The other was a woman, looked and sounded Indian, like India Indian not like the tribe nearby, right, and she had swords. And that was already weird enough, since I never saw them go into the water and it's gotta be freezing in there right now, which I thought was why the priest looked so mad but then he started talking about how they could have just taken a plane and she was like "you said we couldn't take a plane" and he was like "I said we couldn't take a plane until we got you some identification" as if they just, , like, swam here from somewhere? That would require a fucking plane?

Anyway, so as they were walking they were talking about Henry and Tad Zeeo and some object they found? And how they needed to meet them? And I stayed hidden, you know, just in case, but I swear you guys, she stopped at one point and looked right at me and reached for her sword, and he was like "we don't have time," and they just moved on.

So anyway I think I'm gonna stay clear of that beach for a little while.

The court of Iravati wanted absolutely everything. There were scribes working around the clock, between the process of translation and transcription. My notes were in German, and they wanted the end result to be their own local language as well as having a copy in the original German just in case; sadly, I was the only person present who would read German. So I would sit for hours each day, providing a shared Enochian translation of my notes, which they would then use to make their own translation. In the process, they would ask me for more information or clarification or personal experiences, and I would relate as much as I could. As my guide, Akshainie was required to be present for every word, and while the content seemed occasionally interesting to her, the activity itself was obviously wearing on her nerves.

When we were not doing that, however, all of her pent up energy needed to be spent. She gave me an exhaustive tour of Iravati, a lavish realm of gardens and flowing water and long, winding paths. I met almost every naga she knew, and her family had much to say and no desire to translate it for me. We would spend time each day sparring, as she taught me bits of her own fighting style and I taught her some of mine. Aside from the education, the discussion was always the same: she wanted to know absolutely everything I had experienced in my confrontations with the cult, especially the Barzai, and she was eager to tell me how the cult members she faced tried to stand against her. Then we would usually end up in a garden somewhere, laying in the cool grass and watching the sky, eating fruit unseen by mortal eyes for hundreds of generations, usually in silence. She asked, once, what it was like where I was from. By the end of trying to describe southern West Germany, she said she would like to see it someday, but in a manner that suggested the conversation was over. Some days later, she asked where I was really from; I told her I never lived there, at least not long enough to remember it, and we never spoke of my origins again.

I learned that time passed differently in Iravati, at the whim of the Great Naga, and that we had done months of work in the span of a couple weeks in the world of man. When I was finally called back before the Queen, the work of translating into Enochian was complete, and the scribes had made some significant progress in translating it from there. The Queen was given a brief, in Enochian, of all we had discussed.

"You provide a compelling case," she announced, as Akshainie and I stood in the center of her chamber. "Your descriptions of this Barzai are most concerning. And your role in creating him, no less so."

"It is a matter of some disturbance for me, as well," I replied.

"So it seems. Akshainie has testified to me already of your sincerity in this mission, and I see no alternative to such a threat but to offer the support of Iravati in your work."

"Thank you, your majesty. Might I ask what the nature of this support would be?"

"We will provide any information we gather on this Brood of Nachash, I have sent messengers to the waters of the world toward this end. More relevant to your own experiences, however, I have decided to task Akshainie with joining your quest." Akshainie tensed and straightened up. I glanced over and could see the surprise and a million questions forming behind her eyes, but she maintained her composure.

"If that is your wish, my queen," she answered.

"It is. Prepare for your journey, Akshainie. You are both to depart as soon as you are able." We both nodded and were escorted out of the room. Akshainie was silent, but visibly upset, as we made our way back to her chambers. I decided it was best not to press just yet. It was the work of an hour for her to gather her supplies and some food for the road, speak with her family, and take on a human appearance. As we made our way to the gate of the river, she finally turned her attention to me.

"Will I need to wear a human guise all the time?" she asked.

"Not all the time. But a lot of it," I answered.

"It is bothersome. These legs are impractical! How do you tolerate them?"

"I suppose I've never thought about it."

"It is going to be a great deal of effort to look human so often."

"You get used to it," I said, as the gate opened before us and the sunlight hit us.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I picked up my bag and walked forward.

"Come on, we have work to do."

"Benedict!" she yelled, grabbing her own bag. "You tell me what that means!"

"Are you coming?" She groaned and ran to me, tripping on a stone near the edge of the river. I caught her, and helped her back to her feet.

​"Very impractical," she muttered, as we set off.

As the first rays of daylight hit the water of the Ravi north of Lahore, Benedict waited on the south shore, watching the water. He carried his bag, filled with his notes and evidence, and was silently working out the most efficient way to hit the major points. The moment the light reached Benedict, the water before him began to churn. He took a deep breath and watched as the water began to swirl, then rise, until it formed an arched pathway that led down into a brightly-lit chamber. Two naga rushed to the doorway, pointing long spears at Benedict. One looked him over, then sneered.

"State your business, English," he said in a strong accent. Benedict raised his hands slowly.

"I have come by invitation, to discuss a shared enemy," Benedict replied. That guard spoke quickly to the other, in another language, and the other rushed back down the path. The two remaining men stood silent for a few minutes, before that guard returned and passed a message along. The first guard grumbled, then lowered his spear and waved for Benedict to step forward.

The river closed behind them and Benedict found himself in a large chamber that appeared to be constructed of clay bricks, painted with a limited but vibrant palate. He knew from the sense of the air that they were no longer in the physical realm, but very close to it. He was led down a long hall, with doorways dotting the walls. Various naga were bustling about, or peeking out of doorways, but all avoided him. The doors at the end of the hall were opened, and Benedict was led into a massive circular chamber. It had no visible ceiling, the walls just appeared to stretch up and support the night sky itself. It was full of stars, the Milky Way visible in extreme detail, stars completely invisible to the unaided human eye burning bright and shifting clouds of interstellar gas dispersing their light into the whole room.

Opposite the door was a throne, housing the Great Naga. There were two feminine humanoid forms emerging from a single serpentine body, which was itself at least twenty feet thick and circled the entire room multiple times. Benedict walked through a stone archway that lifted the coils up and allowed entrance to the room, and glanced up at the large scales as he passed. Every color seemed to shimmer from them, shifting as they caught the light in different ways, casting spots of color all around the room that moved in response to the restless body. An assortment of courtesans and servants were scattered through the chamber, some rushing on some task or another, others lounging and discussing some matter or another. Benedict was directed to the center of the room, where he stood silently and waited as the Great Naga continued whatever business they were doing when he arrived. Finally, another naga slid forward.

"Welcome to Iravati, Flameborn," he announced, in Enochian. "The Queen of Heaven will now hear you!" Benedict visibly flinched at the title, but straightened up and looked between the two large faces now fixed on him.

"I thank you for the welcome," he called out, using the same language and offering a shallow bow. "I am here on business concerning the Brood of Nachash, who have been active in your domain." The room fell silent and all eyes turned to him. One half of the Queen raised their hand to their chin, as if considering his words, while the other crossed their arms and glared at him.

"And what do you know of them?" they asked.

"I have been actively opposing them for nearly 30 years. I first encountered them on the other side of the world, in the United States, but have since been given reason to believe they do not originate there. Or, for that matter, here." The room erupted into shouts of surprise or arguments among bystanders, but neither Benedict nor the Great Naga averted their gaze to acknowledge it. After a minute of that, the contemplative half raised their hand and the room fell silent again.

"Call for Akshainie," they said to the page, who nodded and rushed out of the chamber. "And what is your name, again?"

"Father Benedict de Monte."

"'Father' is your title, I presume?" Benedict nodded. "Very well. Father, there has been speculation that this cult was an external force attempting to access Iravati, though we have not had solid evidence to support this idea until you arrived. Do you bring us anything of more consequence than a passing observation?"

"I do," he answered, offering his bag. "You will find here my collected notes on the Brood, details of my encounters with them, and the evidence I've collected of their ongoing activities." Another page came forward and accepted the bag, and just as he turned to carry it back Benedict said, "mind that I will need that back. With or without your input on the matter, I must resume hunting them when I leave this place." The Great Naga nodded, and Benedict turned to look when he heard another door open. Akshainie and the first page entered, and she slithered past the crowd to stand beside Benedict.

"You came at dawn. Truly a man of your word," she whispered, as they watched the second page take the bag to the side of the throne and begin talking to some scribes. The Great Naga was watching the page and scribes.

"I am a man of oath, Akshainie," he whispered back. "If I cannot keep my word about a simple meeting, how could I ever keep that oath?"

"What is this oath?"

"Complicated."

"These records will take some time to review," the Great Naga announced. "Father, if it is not too much trouble, we would like to offer you accommodations here in Iravati as we process them." Akshainie raised an eyebrow and glanced over to him.

"Father?" she asked, still as a whisper. He smirked but did not look away from the throne.

"If it pleases you, O Queen, I would offer my services in compiling the information during my stay."

​"It does. When you are not so occupied, I want you to spend time with Akshainie. She is our resident expert on this cult, perhaps you each may have some information and training that will benefit the other."

"As you wish, my queen," Akshainie replied with a bow.

"I will try not to impose," Benedict said.

"You are both dismissed. Akshainie, show him to some quarters. You will serve as his escort as long as he is within our realm." Both Akshainie and Benedict gave a bow, then headed for the door.

The market was packed with people and stalls, fresh meat and produce as far as the eye could see and a crowd ready to take all of it home. I was weaving my way through the space, looking for a man I was told had some of the best lamb around. As I slipped from one cluster of stalls to another, I felt a familiar presence. It took me a moment of focus to remember it, but it felt like Akshainie, or maybe like naga in general. It was hard to tell, when I could only confirm meeting one.

I stopped and looked around the market, but no one looked familiar, and the crowds were too thick and busy to focus on details beyond the people closest to me. Once I had to give up, I continued on my quest, but the presence never seemed far from me. It was five minutes of this, all through the market, the presence hanging close to me, with me occasionally stopping to try and find it. Finally, I heard her voice in my ear, ever so briefly.

"Fishmonger to your right." I spun around, but she was gone. Figuring I had nothing else to go on, I went looking for the fishmonger that had been to my right.

His booth was behind a stall, up against the wall of a building. He had a variety of fish from the local river, a gracious smile, and surprisingly few customers. As I approached, he was hanging a fish in a small line of them hanging from the top of the booth. When I stopped and pretended to admire his wares, he turned to me and waved his hand over his stock.

"English! What kind of fish do you seek?"

"I suspect it's very rare," I answered.

"Oh, nothing to rare for me, sir. You tell me, does it have a name?"

"Akshainie," I said, softly, as I glanced around.

"Very rare indeed! But have no fear, you are close." He stepped to the side and pulled a curtain aside slightly, revealing an illuminated room inside the building. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to check in the back for me." I nodded and slipped into the doorway as the curtain closed behind me. Akshainie was there, in her true naga form, in a pose that I must assume would be considered lounging. She was spread out over a number of cushions, wearing a sari, her swords laying in arm's reach. The room looked used, but not lived in, as if it was a place for the man to rest during his work or briefly entertain but with no cooking area or evidence of additional rooms. The tapestries on the walls all displayed life on the river.

"It's rude to stare, English," she said, picking up a bunch of grapes from a bowl of fruit and plucking some off. "Sit down." I moved further into the room and lowered myself onto a large cushion near the low table with the fruit.

"I'm German, for the record." She waved her hand dismissively.

"You're not of us." I indicated the fruit with my hand, as if to ask, and she nodded. I picked out a mango and leaned back against the wall. "But I asked around, and your story sounds true. This Brood of Nachash is not unknown to the rest of the world. And one especially eager water spirit near North America seemed to recognize you from some incident involving a burning island?"

"The island is fine. The cult members gathered there, largely, were not," I said, pulling out a knife and beginning to cut the mango.

"The story was hard to decipher by the time it reached me, but yes. It did sound like you were very active in your opposition to the Brood."

"Is that why you left? To verify my story?"

"And what reason did I have to stay? To suffer your magic further?" I stopped, then set the knife down.

"I'm sorry, but I needed answers, and it was apparent you were not interested in giving them."

"Oh, make no mistake, I appreciated your style. Right up until you apologized for it." I chuckled, shook my head, then picked up the knife and resumed my work.

"I'll be sure not to apologize to you again." She smiled, then popped a grape into her mouth.

"You're doing that wrong, you know."

"I'm doing it in a way that works." She shrugged.

"Suit yourself, English. The fact is that this Brood of Nachash is a problem, one that I thought had been handled. You need to inform the Great Naga that it is not a local issue."

"Will they not listen to you?"

"I would sound...opportunistic. But to you, the cult here was just one stop on a much longer journey. A journey we are invested in seeing complete."

"Why should this cult be your concern, if you've removed them from Pakistan?"

"I think you know full well how the impression of mankind shapes the world of spirits." I stopped, then nodded. "Hm. And tell me, did you come here because you knew the cult was here?"

"No. I came to investigate the legend of the naga, find out if it was connected."

"And what do you suppose happens to the naga, when the whole world thinks as you have? That we should be understood through the lens of those who corrupt the image of the serpent?"

"You're fighting for your very nature." I set the mango and the knife down. "Tell me how I can help."

"Be at the river, at dawn. North of the city. Be ready to tell your story."

Two more sites, both slaughtered before I arrived. Whatever it was that drew the cult here, they were insistent on getting a foothold, and someone was insistent on stopping them.

I had to assume it was my mystery woman. Once I knew what to look for, I had managed to spot her at both sites, but only briefly. She was always just a step or two ahead, always ready to vanish in the tiniest bit of water, but I had been working on a trick I'd learned back in North America. This time, I was hoping I'd be ready for her. It would have to be enough, if I wanted any answers this way. For all of my searching, I couldn't find evidence of any more cult sites in the area.

I wandered this last site in the spiritual realm before investigating. I don't know if she knows what I am, or what I can do, but I had no reason to think she would assume I could slip by her. I did not find her, but I did locate the water source I was certain she would use to escape. I made a note of its location, found the fastest route from the central chamber to it, then went back to the entrance to carry out my work as usual. I was taking notes on the fatal wounds on the last body when I saw her from the corner of my eye. She was watching, from a crevice above me and to the right. I quickly ran through the map in my head, and determined that if I played it just right I could reach the water just before her. I stood, jotted down the last of my notes, then tucked the notebook away.

"You know, we could try talking about this." I didn't know if she knew English, but I was certain I knew what she'd do the moment she realized I was speaking to her. Sure enough, she dove down the passageway behind her. I smiled, turned, and took off down the path I'd determined. I leapt over rocks and slid under a narrow passage, trying as best I could to reach the end of our race first. "Saint Hubert," I prayed softly in Latin, "please let me have estimated her speed correctly."

As she rounded the last corner and came within sight of the water, she began to change. Her legs gave way to a single, long, serpentine body, and the water started to open. Just as she was about to lunge forward, the water froze and the air in the room dropped to nearly arctic temperatures. Her body grew stiff and she hit the ground hard, gasping in the sharp air. I stepped out from the end of my path, catching my breath as well. She hissed and pulled out her swords.

"Do what you came to do, Colonizer," she practically growled in heavily accented English, "but know it will not be easy for you."

"I've been hunting this cult for a very long time. Well, long in human years, but I suspect you work on a very different scale."

"You...hunt them?" She was breathing very heavy, and I could tell she was having difficulty.

"They're a threat. I want to know what you've learned about them."

"What do you care? Some ridiculous little group of white people show up in my land and start corrupting the name of our serpents, and you expect me to believe this is somehow a problem for you?"

"This is not a local event. I've been tracking them all over the world. Whatever they are, they mean to impose their will everywhere." Her eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed as they fixed on me.

"I will consider it. If you let me breathe."

"You seem to be talking just fine as we are."

"For now. But you want to chat." We watched each other for a long moment, before I sighed.

"Give me something. Anything to know you're serious."

"Akshainie."

"What?"

"It is my name. I am Akshainie, of the guard of Iravati." We stared at each other for another moment until I was certain I would get no further assurance, and then I opened my hand and allowed the temperature in the chamber to slowly return to normal.

"Now, you said you would talk."

"No," she replied with a smile, "I said I would consider it. I never said where." Before I could react, she vanished into the water. I screamed, the rocks around me starting to slightly melt as the water quickly evaporated. After I took some deep breaths and centered myself, I turned and made my way back to the hotel.

The spiral on the ground was crude and shallow. Benedict knelt and ran his fingers along it, feeling the jagged edges. It was composed of short straight lines, five or six abreast, with each set slightly angled from the one next to it. From a distance, it could give the illusion of a smooth curve, but it was clearly unfinished. The scratches suggested it had been scraped in quickly, almost frantically. They hadn’t had time to finish it to the state of the others he’d found around the world, and probably never got to the point where it could be painted red. Not that it mattered. The blood that had flowed into it took care of that.

Seven bodies in all were scattered around the room. Four of them could probably have been identified by family, a couple years ago when they first died. The gashes across their chests and throats betrayed the use of a sword; a sword that was no longer in the room. The heads of the other three were crushed in. Every one of them smelled like sulfur, a sign of their connection to Nachash that he had picked up ever since waking at Yggdrasil a year and a day after arriving there. Benedict stood and slowly stepped around the corpses to the broken and bloody idol that appeared the likely murder weapon. He picked the idol up, a bust emerging from a pillar, and examined it.

​It was broken off about three inches below the shoulders, so he carried it over to the disfigured idols and pillars and began testing the fit until he found the one it belonged to. Having found it he looked down at the name engraved on the post and scowled. He didn’t know the language and couldn’t understand what name the idol had, so he set the bust down and pulled his bag around to the front and dug through until he pulled out a notebook and pencil. His superiors had been concerned about his lengthy absence in the Arctic, and now he knew he would need to bring more samples back to justify his globetrotting. As he was taking a rubbing of the engraving, he heard a stone drag across the floor behind him. He turned quickly and looked around, but saw nothing.

He'd been tracking information around the world ever since he left Yggdrasil, looking for any lore related to serpents that may give some indication on a source for the Brood of Nachash or at least an idea of what they were seeking. His search had brought him to the region around Lahore, Pakistan, where he had now found three ritual sites claimed by the Brood, all of them filled with dead cultists.

He finished his work and then began exploring the rest of the cavern, which had multiple branches cutting off into the rock. As he approached the second side passage, something further down the chamber scraped against the rock. He ran down the passage, following the faint noise of very light footsteps ahead of him. He rounded one corner and got a brief glimpse of her, a woman with twin swords and a movement that flowed like water. She was quick, but he saw enough of her face and arms to recognize her as a local. When he rounded the corner she had disappeared around, he found no evidence of her passing. Just a small stream of water, flowing through the stone, not large enough to hide a person or allow one to escape. He slipped into the spiritual realm and looked around, but found little more than a faint trace that led into the water. He scowled, then turned and headed back to finish his report.