Page 2 of Split or Swallow

Her superiority disappeared immediately at Vera’s next words:

“Of course, I was so pleased when Jonathan returned the favor.”

Tem’s jaw dropped.

“He touched you too?”

Vera smiled widely, eager to perform for her audience.

“He didn’t just touch me. He tasted me.”

Tem frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Vera laughed, the sound cutting Tem to her core.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you? You’ve never even been kissed.”

Tem’s embarrassment only deepened. If Vera wasn’t referring to kissing, she must mean the other, more intimate act—the one Tem had only ever imagined, and never expected to experience. Blush rose once again on her cheeks, dovetailing perfectly with her shame.

“What was it like?” Tem asked despite herself. She loathed giving Vera a platform but desperately needed to know the answer.

“Oh, Tem,” Vera giggled again. “You’ll find out eventually,” she paused, and her mouth twisted cruelly. “Or maybe you won’t. After all, who would want a girl who tastes like chicken shit?”

The insult was too great for Tem to bear. It hit her right in her insecurities, confirming every dark, horrible thing she had ever thought about herself—that she was nothing but a farm girl, that she was dirty and unlovable, that no man would ever look at her the way she dearly wished to be looked at. It took enormous effort to keep those thoughts at bay, and just when she’d managed to do so, girls like Vera reinforced them.

Tem had had enough of this stupid conversation.

“Do you want these or not?” she brandished the carton of eggs in her arms.

“Yes,” Vera sighed, clearly disappointed they were no longer talking about her. “One moment.”

She grabbed the eggs and flounced away. Tem used the time to gather herself. She felt ridiculous and pathetic every time she let Vera get the best of her. But it was impossible not to feel inferior when she’d never even kissed a boy. She would never be like Vera with her silky pink ribbons, dangled teasingly in front of the boys at the market. She would always be the girl who tasted like chicken shit.

When Vera returned with Tem’s payment, she sneered one last time.

“Get some rest, Tem. You’re going to need it.”

On the walk home, Tem allowed herself to cry.

She took the roundabout way through the woods so nobody would see her tears, walking along the edge of the wall that encircled the entire village. Twelve feet tall and made of wood, the wall looked nondescript from the inside. But on the outside, it was sheathed in mirrors.

Centuries ago, when humans had arrived in this part of the world, they hadn’t known that the basilisks were already here. The monsters weren’t a problem at first: when they wore their human forms, they looked just like humans—attractive humans. Their sexual influence was undeniable, and it was the main reason the villagers were able to coexist with them for so long.

But when they wore their true form—when they turned into huge, ruthless snakes—they became a threat. The resulting war was bloody. The basilisks had magic that the villagers couldn’t defend themselves against. That is, until they learned that the basilisks had weaknesses: the crowing of a rooster, the smell of a weasel. It wasn’t until a snake dropped dead after looking at itself in a puddle of water that the villagers realized they were also a threat to themselves. They’d won the war with mirrored shields. In exchange for the territory outside the wall, the basilisks agreed to use their seductive talents to train the prince’s future wife to ensure she would bear him an heir. A tentative truce was formed, and the two groups had lived in relative peace ever since.

The small cottage Tem shared with her mother was nestled on the edge of the forest, and Tem felt a wave of warmth when she saw it. It had always been home to her, no matter what awaited her outside its walls.

Her mother looked up from the kitchen table when she walked in.

“How did it go at the bakery, my dear?”

“Terrible,” Tem said.

“With the eggs, or with Vera?”

“With Vera.”

“I told you to ignore that girl.”