Limitless Evolution As a Snake

[Old Mate: bro, you’re gonna forget one of these]

I’m not going to forget one of these.

By the time we’re gliding out with the drinks, I’ve already nudged the cups toward them with my snout, and I only notice the mix-up because Cherry’s borderline crying at hers with pure horror while Lyra’s sipping something bright pink with edible glitter floating on top and trying very hard not to laugh.

”This is not an espresso,” Lyra says.

”It’s got sparkles in it,” Cherry whispers, mortified, horn stumps twitching.

”Switch,” I chuckle, as if that fixes it, like that was the plan all along and I was just messing with them.

They switch. Nobody says anything else about it. I decide this counts as a win.

The warehouse smells the same as it always does, oil and rust and something underneath that might be fear-sweat baked into the concrete from however many meetings happened in this exact spot.

Fluorescent light hums overhead, flickering just enough to be annoying. Rows of crates stacked against the walls, tarps thrown over things I don’t ask about.

Tiny fairies flying to back rooms, more things I don’t need to ask about.

My father’s already there, standing at the far end like he’s been standing there since the dawn of time, arms crossed, his coat immaculate. He smiles brightly when he sees me; his gaze slides past me, a slow, deliberate sweep that assesses Lyra, then Cherry, before locking back onto my face.

”You brought a new guest,” he says.

”You’ve met Lyra, but meet Cherry,” I state their names like that explains everything, which it doesn’t, but I’m not about to hold my coil here drawing a whole family tree for him.

He looks at them for a long moment, long enough that I feel my scales prickle with something close to protectiveness, and then he nods once, smiles wide and looks back at me.

”Sit. Or coil, whatever it is you do.”

I coil near a crate, letting my body go slack in what I hope looks like casual disregard. My tail tip stays perfectly still. Inside, every muscle is strung tight enough to hum, and my stomach feels like it’s trying to digest itself.

”You know what this family does,” he says, slithering now, hands behind his back. ”Goods move through the Undercity that don’t move anywhere else. Things the surface doesn’t want to know about. Protection for the people down there who’d otherwise get eaten alive by worse things than rats. Fairy dust, when the demand calls for it. We keep the tunnels running the way they need to run.”

I nod along like I’m taking mental notes, like I’m cataloguing all of this for later, when really I’m mostly thinking about how loud my own heartbeat feels thrumming through my jawbone.

Cherry is looking around the room in a way of wonder and curiosity; ah, I can’t stop her; I brought her into this.

”There’s a shipment coming through the east junction next week,” he continues. ”I want you there to oversee it.”

”Overseeing,” I repeat, buying time. ”Like, watching? Or like, doing?”

”Both.”

[Old Mate: mate say yes and figure it out later that’s the whole vibe of your life so far]

”Right, yeah, I can watch and also do,” I affirmed, which commits me to absolutely nothing specific, and I consider that a small personal victory.

He studies me again, and I get the feeling he knows exactly what I’m doing, dodging the specifics, keeping my scales clean without actually saying no to anything. But he lets it go, for now.

I let my coils settle, a slow and deliberate movement, because this next part matters more than the shipment, more than the vague crime stuff I’m trying not to commit to.

”There’s something I gotta tell you,” I choked out. ”About a casino.”

He stops slithering.

”I sort of own one now, uhh, the main Undercity one, off the side of Twawi. Won it, kind of, in a fight I wasn’t supposed to win against the guy who used to run it.” I keep going before he can say anything, because if I stop now I might just curl up and hide in a crate for the rest of my life.

”There’s also debt attached to it. A lot of debt. Like, more zeros than I really understood when I found out about it.”

Silence. My father’s face doesn’t move, doesn’t twitch, doesn’t give me a single thing to work with, I’ve never seen him like this.

Cherry’s horn stumps are twitching like crazy behind me.

Lyra’s gone very still, the kind of still she gets right before she puts her hand on a weapon, or my dicks.

”You own a casino,” my father finally says, slow, like he’s turning the words over to check for a trick.

”Technically, we do as a family, but, yeah.”

”With debt.”

”Also yeah.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, and I brace myself for the yelling, or the disappointment, or whatever else is about to come crashing down on me.

Instead, he just exhales through his nose, something that might almost be amusement if I squint hard enough.

”That,” he says, ”is either the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, or the smartest. I haven’t decided yet.”

”Statistically it’s probably the stupidest,” I admit, because at this point lying about it feels pointless.

My father nods slowly, like he expected that answer and appreciates the honesty anyway. Then he moves on, because apparently a casino with crushing debt is a weekend problem and not worth dwelling on.

”Since we’re discussing your career,” he says, ”I have something for you: a trial.”

The word lands wrong in my gut, heavy, like I already know I’m not going to like where this goes.

”A trial,” I repeat.

”A test, a family one, nothing complicated.”

He says it the way rich people say nothing complicated right before they hand you a bomb with a bow on it.

”There’s a soup stall in the lower docks of Twawi. Granny Nettle’s; she’s behind on her protection payments, damn nearly three months now.”

I already hate this.

”You want me to collect money,” I stutter, ”from a soup kitchen grandma?”

”I want you to demonstrate that you can complete an assignment,” he states, and there’s no wiggle room in his voice, no space for me to argue my way out the side door.

”Whether that assignment is uncomfortable for you is not my concern, im sorry I have to go hard on you my son, the rest of the family has a lot of questions,” he takes a big sigh.

[Old Mate: Oi, oi oi oi, OI, mate, MATE, are we the baddies now?]