Snake in the Glass by Seanan McGuire

Author:Seanan McGuire [McGuire, Seanan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-30T05:00:00+00:00

The stairs down to the lobby were broad and beckoning as we walked down the hallway. I pulled Dominic away from them and down a bend in the hall to a smaller stairway, almost hidden by the construction of the floor. It was just as opulent as the rest of its surroundings, with a polished brass bannister and thick carpet on the steps, but it was somehow uninviting, like it didn't want to be used. Part of that was the narrowness: there wasn't room for two people to walk side-by-side.

I stepped in front of Dominic, explaining cheerfully, "This way no one can attack them any way but single file," before I started down.

"Charming," he said, and followed me.

The stairs went down, down, down to lobby level and then lower still, finally widening out and opening onto a room large enough to host a professional ballroom dance competition. The floor was marble, and the draped fabric on the walls matched the lobby upstairs. Conversation pits formed by careful groupings of furniture studded the edges of the room. All of them were empty, unlike the long table set up on the far end, which was surrounded by gorgons.

Gorgons, and one couple that appeared human, although the woman had blue-green highlights in her wheat-colored hair. I smiled and waved when I saw them. Aunt Lea waved back, while Uncle Mike looked indulgently on. It was too far for me to really see his expression, but I knew that he was probably smirking, looking forward to watching Dominic try to navigate dinner without starting a diplomatic incident.

I slid my arm through Dominic's as we walked across the room toward the table. "The big gorgon with the red and yellow snakes on his head is Angelo Kalakos. He's the current patriarch of the family, and he's the one who decides things like 'who is welcome at the Carmichael.' He's a pretty reasonable guy, and he used to be a professional Scrabble player, because the world is profoundly weird sometimes. The lady with the white and orange snakes is his wife, Lydia. Her father, Hector, knew my great-grandparents."

Dominic paused to work through this before he asked, "Who takes whose name in gorgon culture?"

"Ooo, good catch. See, you're adapting fast to the idea that human cultures aren't the only cultures that count. Among lesser gorgons, the family name is tied to the place, not the specific bloodline. Lydia was born a Kalakos, and since she stayed here at the Carmichael, when she took a husband, he took her name. Her sister, Aspa, moved to a gorgon community up in Canada, and she took her husband's name. That way, ownership of property or hunting grounds is continuous, and tied to the name."

We were almost to the table. They'd be able to hear us soon. I gave his arm a squeeze. "Any more pressing questions?" I asked.

"Are we going to be expected to eat living things? I love you very much, Verity, but I don't think even love can convince me to swallow a guinea pig.

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