Young adult fantasy novel

BACK OF THE CLASS

    Gaia sat coiled before her creative writing class waiting to present the plot of her latest story. 

      "All right, Gaia, let's hear your idea," prompted Miss Hissy from the back of the cave. 

       Miss Hissy drove Gaia crazy. She was always instructing her to say this, not that; don't slouch; always keep your scales shiny; don't question so much . . . blah, blah, blah. 

       Gaia adjusted her uniquely patterned coil, which consisted of three light stripes running the length of her short, olive-green, garter snake body. While the other garters in her class also had three stripes, they were all one color. Gaia had one white, one yellow, and between them, one a shimmering light blue. Her beautiful skin seemed something only a great artist could have created, an artist her mother said lived in the heavens and was called Serpens. She stretched her body up as high as possible, her head now well above her classmates' bored, teenage faces. She tried to ignore the nervousness she felt rising within her, but then her nose began twitching.

       She tried to focus on her hope that today might be the day Miss Hissy would just let her finish what she had to say without constant interruptions and advice. Gaia just wanted to say how she felt and be able to ask questions without getting into trouble all the time. But Miss Hissy did not allow curiosity to intrude into her classroom. Her school was well known for strict discipline and dogmatic adherence to the dictates of Moon Meadow's Grand Wizard, Mandihar. His Guidance Manual for Young Snake Minds was a sacred text to Miss Hissy, and she adhered to it absolutely. 

       Gaia cleared her throat as she tried to choose her words. She had to project her voice, being somewhat soft-spoken by nature; her parents had taught her not to be boisterous and loud. She wanted to be concise yet interesting. Looking out at the sea of classmates' expressionless faces made this a difficult feat.

      "Come on Gaia, stop stalling. Scales up." 

       Gaia faked a smile. "Yes, Miss Hissy. My story is about a young girl snake." 

       Miss Hissy immediately cut Gaia off. She had spoken only a few measly words and already Miss Hissy was instructing her. 

       "We need details, Gaia. Who is this snake and where is she from? Details, Gaia. You must keep the reader engaged."

        Gaia did all she could to keep from screaming and slithering out of the school cave and heading home. Her nose twitching increased. A wave of self-consciousness overwhelmed her, as she was certain all her classmates saw was a huge, spasming nose. She tried to be inconspicuous as she adjusted her head, pointing her nose upward. 

       "Yes, Miss Hissy. The snake is me, Gaia Coiler. I am thirteen years old and live in Moon Meadow with my family. Lucima is my best friend." 

        "Stop right there, Gaia." 

         Gaia felt defeated at not being able to continue. Her plot was a good one; she had given herself an alter ego, a female superhero-Moon Maiden, who possessed the special power of teleportation. But she didn't even have a chance to get that part out. 

        "What did I teach you about introductions?" 

        Gaia started to answer, her sad brown eyes staring at the ceiling. 

       "Look at me when speaking."                           

        Gaia wanted to scream. Miss Hissy was unbearable. 

       "You said to make the intro compelling, edgy, different . . . to keep the reader engaged." 

       "Exactly, Gaia. Do you think what you have said so far is captivating?" 

        She shook her head no, feeling too humiliated in front of her peers to answer out loud. Her nose-twitching was now out of control. 

       "No, it is not, Gaia. In fact, it is quite dull. Come back to your mat and we will try again tomorrow." 

        Suddenly, all the other young snakes came alive and snickered, pointing the ends of their tails to their nose as Gaia slowly slithered back to her mat, now trying to keep her head pointed at the floor. All of them snickered except for Lucima and a new boy in the class named Kimba. Gaia really didn't know him yet but thought he was cute with his huge yellow eyes. He smiled at her as she slithered down the aisle to her mat. Miss Hissy called his name.

       "Kimba, you are next." 

        Kimba headed to the front of the class. His slither had swagger, which intrigued Gaia. After the presentations, Miss Hissy returned to the front of the class. She always looked meticulously put together. Her lime-green scales sparkled in the sunlight, not a speck of dirt to be found. She tried to appear young, but Gaia could tell age was creeping up on Miss Hissy. Upon closer scrutiny, her perfectly polished scales were fading in color. Even though she tried hiding it, Gaia could see her slither had slowed and become stiffer than the younger snakes' movements. Gaia had to suppress her laughter as she came up with a nickname for her teacher, "Meticulous Hiss." She couldn't wait to tell Lucima. 

        Miss Hissy instructed the class that it was now story time, and the story today would be a myth, so there would be no need for questions afterward. She prefaced every story with the same introduction, which Gaia found weird. It was, however, in compliance with the part of Mandihar's Guidance Manual for Young Snake Minds, chapter 1, verse 13, which dealt with suppressing curiosity. 

         All the small garters rearranged themselves in a circle around Miss Hissy, eager to hear today's tale. Gaia loved story time; it was her favorite part of the school day. She crept over to Lucima and coiled up next to her. 

         Gaia and Lucima were soul mates, but they were a study in physical contrast. Lucima was about the same size as Gaia but lacked stripes, which was unusual, and her brownish-green skin was covered in lighter-green spots. Her huge round pupils were set in dark-brown eyes. One trait they shared was a humorous sense of the absurd. Together they settled in for story time, giving each other a knowing look as Miss Hissy fussed to adjust her coil perfectly. 

MOON MEADOW ' S LEADER

        Mandihar sat perched on his rock ledge high in the beautiful Atum Mountains that surrounded Moon Meadow. The setting sun's reflection bounced off the red stone embedded in his hood, casting a bright-crimson glow. Every night, he watched the small garter community hurrying home before the sky went dark. He smiled with satisfaction at how all the snakes obeyed his curfew without question, simply because he demanded it. He looked on as another busy day was coming to an end.    

        Small snake dens lined narrow, zigzagging dirt paths that ran through a large area of reed grasses, tall and broad-leafed with feathery white flower clusters. The garters' rock homes alternated between shades of brown and grey with the occasional dark-red stone. All had a medium-size entry shaft facing the path, but only some had the desired small window. The snakes took great pride in their residences and could be seen sweeping the entryways with their tails before turning in for the night.

       It was a small community that was growing quickly, with many new homes popping up along the paths. One of the most sought-after jobs was in construction. Another popular occupation was farming at one of the rodent or frog farms.

      Today was payday in Moon Meadow. Hundreds of snakes slithered down the paths toward home after a long day of work. Using their tails, they dragged behind them small bags woven from the stiff stems of dried reeds and filled with heavy loads of small pebbles, which markedly slowed down their slither. Mandihar noticed one of the rodent-farm workers seemed to be growing extra padding on his belly. He took out his carving stick and scratched the resident's name on the rock slab next to him. Mandihar scanned the names already etched in, noting the list was getting quite lengthy.

       All the snakes eagerly rushed home with their earnings, which consisted of different-colored pebbles known as "mambas." They were simple, everyday small rocks found along the riverbank where Mandihar's crew collected them and hauled them up the long, winding trail to his expansive den. It was there that Mandihar oversaw many workers who used his special dyes to color the small rocks according to their monetary values.

       Mandihar glanced off to the side at his garden of roses, marigolds, and indigo. One of the garter gardeners nodded a hello before quickly returning to work. Mandihar smiled at the sight of the flourishing flowers used for his secret mamba dye. He prohibited anyone else from growing these plants in Moon Meadow and had his patrol guards check every garden nightly. On occasion, a defiant snake would be seen being dragged through the meadow up to Mandihar's den, sometimes to never be seen again. How he relished those nights.

Two yellow-tinged fangs emerged as his smile widened at the thought. However, tonight looked quiet.

       "Good little snakes," he thought to himself with slight disappointment.

        He couldn't contain a small burst of laughter at the thought of the garters' hopes of wealth. His laughter grew a little louder as he thought of their unattainable dream.

       "Don't tell them that," he said out loud.

       "Don't tell who what?" said a cobra guard who had just come on the ledge.

        Mandihar composed himself, quickly changing the subject.

       "You all rested for your shift?"

       "Yes, Grand Wizard. Just checking in."

        Mandihar informed the guard of the new name added to the list before waving him off, watching him hurry down the path. He returned his cold, black eyes to the meadow, making sure all his other cobra patrol guards were in place for the night.

        No garter living in Moon Meadow today could remember when their leader was a garter. Tales from those times told of a close community who enjoyed the freedom to gather, travel, and speak one's mind. If their leader wasn't doing a good job, they could replace him. Their dens were in a beautiful meadow with a river running through it, and they worked hard together to have a good life.

        And suddenly everything changed. The garter leader disappeared and was never seen or heard from again, which sent shock waves of fear in his descendants down through the decades. In his place as leader came Mandihar, a huge cobra from another land whispered to be across the great water, who demanded to be called the Grand Wizard. The gurgling river still ran through the lush meadow, but life had changed dramatically in the garter dens.

         Once a month, Mandihar allowed families to ignore the curfew and gather at the edge of the river to watch the moon's huge, silvery orb rise above the distant mountains and cast its beautiful glow on the river.

         These mysterious nights were for storytelling and always went late while the moon climbed to the top of the heavens and started to slip down the other side. Mandihar smirked with satisfaction at the thought of his favorite story, one that frightened all the young snakes, and even some of the older ones. He had chosen a respectable snake of the community, Vasuki, to end the night with this specific tale. A low chuckle floated over the ledge as Mandihar envisioned Vasuki puffing up his chest before he began speaking. All the snakes' coils would tighten, eager with fear and anticipation, as the moonlight glittered off the multiple colors and patterns of their backs. The air would fill with a unison of soft, low hisses.

         Vasuki spoke slowly, allowing each word to sink in as the tale would begin:

        "If you follow the Snake River for miles, you will come upon a huge, forbidden rock tower called Kukulkan. It stands in an enormous crater of parched sand and dirt where nothing grows and the sun is merciless. Here the river turns sharply to the west as if its pure waters do not want to even touch this evil place. Bones litter the barren earth, and much of the time black buzzards hover overhead. Even the beautiful prairie grasses are afraid to enter, for they suddenly end with a steep drop-off into this cursed area, haunted by ancient spirits and an immortal creature known as HOXD: an enormous python with legs and arms and extraordinary magical powers. There are many ancient stories about this place, mostly rumors and myths. But no living creature we know of has ever been there and come back to tell the tale."

        Deep breaths followed by slow hisses would erupt from the crowd.

       "HOXD must replenish his energy every month by basking in the power of the full moon's light. It is essential that direct moonlight shines on the bare skin of his legs. Otherwise, his energy will not be restored, and his legs will revert to being a snake's tail. If this happens, he will become like all other mortals and eventually die."

         Loud, excitable hissing would break out but quickly stop, allowing Vasuki to continue in an eerie voice.

         "HOXD only leaves his den when the moon is full, so tonight, as I speak these words, he should be emerging. Using his magic, maybe from that tall tower, he can even see us!"

         The nervous slithering and hissing would become so loud that Vasuki would have trouble settling it down. Eventually, he would be able to end the story with the same line he always used:

        "Only the unwise would attempt to enter Kukulkan, for to access the tower and HOXD, one must travel on the Avenue of the Dead!"

         The night would become ghostly silent as all the snakes sat transfixed by the images conjured in their minds by the thought of HOXD and Kukulkan.