She counted the cobras off as the chosen one pointed out their hiding places and she stabbed them. "That is seven, then. I've gotten all of them." She thought about thanking the chosen one, but the words stuck in her throat. She had never thanked anyone before. She shrugged off the miracle of its transformation, of its help.

"You're tired, now, aren't you? You want to rest. Lie down in the sun and warm yourself. It's all over now, you know." The chosen one lifted its arm and stroked her hair, charming her.

She could only nod. The chosen one led her to her bed, where sun streamed in through the window. She sat back on the bed, feeling its warmth. Relieved, she lay down.

The cobras swarmed out from under the covers, and the feast of revenge began.