Mr. Flint was – probably not the worst person in the world to be of assistance here, Callista supposed. She knew his credits more as an eligible bachelor than in his career, but he was certainly a healer – and thus hopefully calm, effective, and discreet?

“It is,” Callista agreed, a little strained; she had been spending more energy staying still so as not to vex the snake’s movements and less on breathing properly, so she felt a little out of breath as she spoke. Fortunately, he did not seem daunted by the sizeable snake at her legs, and approached it at once. Callista, for her part, might have been more daunted by the fact that he was now bent down about her ankles, head angled beneath her skirts. She had been hitching them up slightly to help, but when she suggested she step out with her freed foot, she didn’t know that she had enough balance to remain one-legged, so she sucked in a breath and placed a hand on his shoulder. “May I?” She asked – unnecessarily – as she tried to hop over its body and also avoid tripping on his arms holding back the snake.

The snake seemed aware something was happening, because as she got one foot out, she felt it wrap itself more insistently against her other leg.

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