Kiss of the Basilisk (Split or Swallow, #1)

by Lindsay Straube

“You hold the stars in your hands,” her mother had always said, rubbing Tem’s fingers between hers. “Just like your father.”

When she finally slept, she dreamed of fire. It didn’t burn her. Rather, it warmed her gently, from the tips of her toes to the base of her skull. The fire felt familiar somehow, as if it were sent by someone she had known a long time ago. Flames licked her fingers, her palms, her arms. A single breath brushed her cheek. Then it was over.

If what he said was true, it meant that Caspen was the Serpent King: the legendary basilisk whose power was far superior to all the others. His reputation was exemplary in the village; people talked about him like he was a god. Tem had the most coveted teacher.

Rather than ask for clarification, she reached for a chocolate. Before she could touch it, the basilisk caught her arm. Tem froze as he raised her hand to the fire, turning it so that her freckles caught the light. “Have you always had these?” he asked. “Yes,” she said. To Tem’s horror, a darkness passed over his face. “Are they…I mean…is that bad?” she stammered. Caspen blinked. “No,” he said quickly, dropping her hand. “Just…” He hesitated for a long time, as if choosing his next word carefully. “Rare.” “Rare?”

It was an expensive metal—a metal that Tem and her mother could never afford, a luxury reserved only for the royals. Tem had only one piece of jewelry to her name, a dull silver ring she wore on holidays. The ring paled in comparison to the necklace.

“Temptation, salvation, heaven, hell—you are everything, Tem. You are my undoing. You are beyond comprehension. There are no sufficient words to describe you, either in my language or yours.” His hands moved to her face, cupping her jaw. “My compass points to you. I could not change direction even if I wanted to.”

“Caspen,” she whispered, fearing his response. “Is there a basilisk who is bound to you?” To her surprise, he said, “No.” Tem thought he might elaborate, but he didn’t. There was only one thing left to ask. “What happens to a basilisk when they’re crested?” Caspen took an eternity to answer. “They die.”

Tell me this isn’t the last time I’ll see you. This isn’t the last time. Leo would have to be dead in order for it to be the last time. He couldn’t let their story end like that—in blood and chaos at their own wedding. Such an ending was unacceptable to him. Still, there were other problems to contend with.

“You know nothing of peace, Thelonius. There will be no peace in this kingdom if you abolish this.” He gestured at the imprisoned basilisks. “There is no peace already,” Leo said. His father let out a bitter laugh. “Peace is an illusion. You will learn that one day.”

“That much is clear,” he said quietly. “I should have learned long ago that you were incapable of rationality. But I, like you, chose to ignore what was in front of me.” “What do you mean by that?”

“Find her if you wish. Marry her if you must. But it will be harder than you think.” Leo’s fingers tightened on the bars. “What will?” “Knowing the truth.”