The lesser ingredients were just as essential. It was this slurry that Sisarqua had consumed as the major ingredients for manufacturing her case. Water and clay were dumped into the immense trough other workers used shovels and paddles to break up the lumps of clay and render the water and clay into a loose porridge. Youngsters trundled the barrows to a hastily constructed log enclosure. Others mined chunks of silvery clay from a nearby bank and loaded them into barrows. Some carried buckets of water from the river. Finish it, and then I can rest.Īll around her on the riverbank other serpents labored at the same task, with varying degrees of success. She longed to sleep but she knew that if she slept now, she would never wake again in any form. She focused on it with a desperation born of weariness. Creating the case that would shelter her during the remaining months of winter took all her attention. Sisarqua could not spare a glance for the blue-and-silver queen who praised her. A nice even layer to begin with, one with no gaps. She felt a heavy tread nearby, and then the shadow of the walking dragon passed over her. Her head wove as she layered the wet winding over herself. The extrusion was like a silvery thread, thick and heavy. With difficulty, she turned her head and then coiled her tail closer to her body. She clamped and locked her jaws to contain the liquid, releasing it only as a thin, powerful stream of clay, bile, and saliva tinged with venom. Shuddering down her full length, she opened her jaws wide, strained, gagged, and then met with success. Her fleshy mane stood out all around her throat in a toxic, quivering ruff. Working the muscles in her throat, she felt her poison sacs swell. She had lost count of how many gulps of the grainy soup she had ingested when finally she felt the ancient reflex trigger. It was gritty and cold and strangely delicious. She threw her great head back and gulped it down. She scooped her jaws into the immense trough and came up with a mouthful of silver-streaked clay and river water. There was nothing she could do about that except to work more swiftly. The air was too cold, and her gills were drying out too quickly. The mudbank under her coiled length was hard and abrasive. Winter was closing in on this densely forested land beside the chill river. She was far from Others’ Island’s hot dry sand and balmy waters now. She had not felt dry land under her body since she had hatched on Others’ Island. It had been years since she had been completely out of the water. It was hard for the sea serpent to focus her thoughts. Sisarqua opened her jaws and bent her neck. They had come so far, yet now that she was here, the years of journeying were already fading in her mind, giving way to the desperate needs of the present.
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