"What trouble you Wolves do find!" Shanti, the 'snake lady,' exclaims once we've filled her in on our travails. "I wonder you do not look for it."

"I think it looks for them," I say. "I've traveled the better part of the globe and never encountered so many... 'unusual people'... as I have here in Spring Lakes."

"Indeed," Shanti agrees. "This town is a focal point — a nexus of power. All who can sense it, consciously or unconsciously, are drawn here. Not unlike yourself, perhaps."

Joining my hand with Martin's, I smile. "Perhaps. I've rarely strayed so far inland, much less settled down to stay. You were drawn here as well, it seems."

"So I was; though that was in pursuit of others who came seeking power. But the shop likes it here, and as long as the shop is happy, I will stay.

After proper introductions, I'd learned of her convoluted relation to Ambrose Thorne, and of her first encounters with Noah and the Hunter clan. As a nagi, she splits her time between the human and Nāga realms, which are connected through bodies of water such as lakes and lotus ponds. Noah hopes she can use this ability to help us travel directly to Thassos, bypassing the protections keeping outsiders at bay; I hope that with both pieces of the amulet and Martin at my side, the terms of my mother's curse will be satisfied. If we can break her spell, she'll be free to resume her role as queen, and I'll be free of my obligations as heir. Once she knows everything, she might even forgive my father and allow his return.

"So, will you help us?" Noah asks, leaning forward in his seat. "Is it even possible to travel to...?"

"Thassos," I supply. "Mer is the name of both my people and our 'nation.' Thassos is our city-kingdom — the last that remains."

She nods. "I have heard of your people, though I know little beyond the fact that they exist. As you have said, they are insular and reclusive, and keep to themselves. Mostly."

Her dark eyes sparkle with gentle amusement, and a subtle breeze stirs about the room, carrying with it an echo of chimes and a hint of incense, and it occurs to me I am in the presence of a strange and powerful being, indeed.

"That aside, as long as I can envision a place, I can travel there. This is much the way that young Miguel will travel in his spirit form, though it is a bit more complicated than it sounds. The more power one has, the more often the question is not whether one can do something, but whether one should."

Noah lifts his brows at her. "With great power comes...?"

"Great self-doubt," she says, smiling wryly. "I wish to help you and your family, but I cannot allow my personal feelings to influence my judgement. I must meditate upon the wisdom of action in this case."

Martin clasps his hands between his knees and leans forward. "Please. From what I've heard, you were human, once. You must understand our urgency. Time is something..." He stops and licks his lips before continuing. "Time is something we don't have a lot of."

Shanti inclines her head. "I do understand, and you have my compassion. However, you must understand that my perspective spans kalpas — great eons of time. Actions, and the effect of actions, have consequences and echoes that may be felt far into the future. I must be certain that my actions do no more harm than good, at the very least."

"Hm. Must be nice," Dane says, leaning back in his seat and absently scratching himself. "For us mere mortals, it's a crapshoot. We follow our hearts and hope for the best."

Noah looks scandalized by his brother's behavior, but Shanti merely laughs as the subtle, scented breeze stirs the air again.

"You are quite right, Alpha Dane," she says. "Sometimes, in taking the long view, we miss the beauty that is right before our eyes. There is a universe on the atomic scale, and one on a scale beyond what you would call 'the universe'; it is difficult to determine on which to focus, at times."

She adjusts her silks and recrosses her legs.

"Give me three days. Then, at dusk, meet me by the shores of yonder lake." She gestures at the window and the little park on the opposite side of the street from Noah and Ambrose's house. "Then you shall have your answer. In the meantime, is there any chance of getting some tea?"

∼∼∼

At Noah and Ambrose's insistence, we stay over for the interim. Martin and I take the 'blue room,' while the children choose to bunk down in the library. It makes sense, with the rendezvous spot so close and the old house having so much room, but Martin's fear of imposing makes itself known, nonetheless.

"Are you sure about having us here?" Martin asks at dinner the first night. "I remember you loving that old Ben Franklin quote about fish and houseguests."

Noah snorts. "Family aren't 'guests,'" he says, as he serves Martin heaping piles of wilted greens, baked mac and cheese with a breadcrumb crust, and buttermilk chicken. Despite my dubious tastes in 'land food,' my mouth is watering, and yet I seem to remember something about cholesterol being bad for humans.

"Is this... heart healthy?" I ask, pointing at the food.

Ambrose (the cook of the evening) smirks at me. "As I've said, there's nothing at all wrong with anyone's heart. A bit of butter and oil are just fine, in moderation. And the greens make up for it," he adds, pointing at them with his knife.

I see a good sheen of olive oil and butter there as well, among the toasted garlic bits, but signal my agreement anyway.

"Ah, well; as Shanti said, the scale of time matters, and we must get our pleasure where we can."

With this in mind, I meet Martin's eyes across the table and reach for his hand. He joins his fingers with mine and blushes delightfully, a strawberry flush beneath his dark skin.

At his side, Flora clears her throat and stabs at her greens with more force than is needed, and Martin releases my hand.

I sip my salted water and cast him a sly, sidelong glance. As his children grow up, I shall endeavor to ensure he stays young. Fate willing, that is.

∼∼∼

On the appointed day, we gather on the shores of the lake at eventide: Martin and I, Julian and Dane, Noah and Ambrose, and Martin's children watched over by Chloe and Grace. We wait as the sun sets; as the world gradually darkens and the waters grow calm. Insects skim the quiet surface, which the occasional splash of a leaping fish breaks into ripples that spread and fade into stillness again. Early stars speckle the indigo sky, and the chill of mid-November adds a bite to the air.

For thirty minutes or so, we stand about talking quietly among ourselves. I stay close to Martin, holding his hand as we take comfort in one another's presence and in the nearness of his family and friends.

At last, Ambrose signals for our attention and gestures at the lake. Near the center, a cloud of tiny bubbles erupts and breaks the surface with a hiss, sending little waves outward in concentric circles that roll gently to lap upon the pebbly shore. A moment later, something winds its way towards us: a dark shape upon dark water, long and serpentine.

I catch a glimpse of iridescent green scales as the water rises and breaks across the back of an enormous snake. It slithers to shore and then — so seamlessly I would miss it if I blinked — Shanti takes its place, her flowing silks and long black hair completely dry.

Pressing her palms lightly together, she inclines her head.

"Greetings, my friends. I hope you are well."

Ambrose waves his hand impatiently. "Never mind the pleasantries. What's the verdict? Will you help?"

Ignoring him, she turns her attention to Martin and me.

"My meditations have yielded no clarity. I am sorry."

"So, that's a no," I say, disappointment coloring my voice.

Shanti smiles. "I did not say that; only that the future is uncertain. Sometimes fate is like a boat caught in a torrent: inescapable. Other times, it is as a bubble floating on a fitful breeze: the slightest thing may change it. At this moment, your fates are like the latter, and I cannot say what will help or harm. However, my conscience will not rest with inaction, and so the choice is yours: if you desire my aid, I will give it with the best of intentions."

"The road to hell," Ambrose murmurs, but Martin squares his shoulders and steps forward.

"Please," he says, "we have to try."

Shanti bows her head and extends her hands to us. "Very well, then. Come; Thassos awaits."