Vanity's brood hos-3

by Lisa Smedman

  He oonsidered performing his meditations inside his refuge but decided to take advantage of the animals outside. A quick dagger throw, and he'd have fresh meat. Then he'd restore his muladhara.

  He crawled outside and stood, stretching out the kinks that came from sleeping on a stone floor.

  A slight rustle of the leaves above his head was all the warning he got. A heartbeat later, a snake- tailed yuan-ti with green scales the exact color of the leaves around him swung down from the branch above hill. and yanked Arvin off his feet.

  CHAPTER 9

  Arvin gasped as he was yanked sideways by the yuan-ti. Its serpent tail coiled around the branch above, it swung like a pendulum, slamming Arvin against the trunk of the tree. An explosion of stars filled Arvin's vision; as he blinked them away he heard the yuan-ti land on the ground next to him. Something heavy coiled around his chest and squeezed: the yuan-ti's serpent tail. The lower half of the Circled Serpent dug into Arvin's ribs. The yuan-ti, a male with leaf-shaped scales whose raised tips feathered out from his face, squeezed tighter, driving the air from Arvin's lungs, then eased up just a little. He bared his fangs and hissed something in Draconic.

  Arvin stared back into unblinking eyes. "I don't understand you," he gasped.

  As he spoke, he reached deep inside himself and connected with the small amount of energy that remained in his muladhara. He manifested a charm and saw the yuan-ti blink. Sunlight slanted down through a gap in the forest canopy. The sun was rising, and the jungle was getting even hotter.

  The yuan-ti hissed again in Draconic. Sweat blossomed on his body, stinging Arvin's skin. Unable to move his arms-the yuan-ti's tail held them fast- Arvin gestured with his chin instead.

  "Se'sehen?" he asked.

  The yuan-ti's head swayed from side to side. In a human, it would have been denial, but the gesture was accompanied by a gloating smile and bared his fangs. His tongue flickered against Arvin's face, savoring his fear.

  Arvin decided to take a gamble. "Sibyl?" he asked. His good hand was pressed against his chest but still visible. Arvin tapped a finger against his ohest. "Sibyl," he repeated. "I'm one of her followers, too."

  The yuan-ti relaxed his coils. His face was triangular with slit-pupiled eyes, not the slightest bit human. He had human arms, however, though they too were covered in green scales. His forked tongue flickered against Arvin's chest. "Sybil?" he repeated.

  Arvin nodded. "Yes. Yes. We're on the same side." The yuan-ti smiled and released Arvin. "Sibyl," he hissed again.

  A shadow flickered across the yuan-ti. Something big had momentarily blocked the sunlight. The yuanti looked up.

  Arvin followed his glance and saw an enormous winged serpent silhouetted against the sky. He felt the blood drain from his face as he realized who it must be. With the arrival of dawn, the portal had once again activated. Sibyl had slipped through.

  The yuan-ti said something to Arvin in a tense, urgent voice. He glanced up again at the winged serpent that circled above them. Then his tail uncoiled, releasing Arvin. He said something more, gesturing urgently at the jungle, then slithered rapidly away.

  Arvin stared, surprised. It was almost as if the yuan-ti had been frightened off by Sibyl. Maybe he'd been Jennestaa, after all.

  Time for Arvin to get out of here as well.

  As he turned to go, he heard a sharp fluttering noise: air passing swiftly over massive wings. Glancing up, he saw the winged serpent hurtling down toward him. He ran, hoping to lose himself beneath the trees, and cursed. He had nothing to fight Sibyl with; he'd left the musk creeper net in the cave. He tripped over a vine, stumbled, then recovered and ran on. HeCouldn't move.

  Couldn't even blink as he crashed, still frozen in a running pose, to the ground. As he lay on the jungle floor, the only thing that was moving-swiftly enough to make him dizzy-was the blood rushing through his veins. Over the thudding of his heart, loud in his ears, he heard the rustle of wings arid the prolonged thud of a serpent body settling on the ground.

  A tic of despair tuggod at the corner of Arvin's eye. He waited for Sibyl's fangs to strike.

  "Arvin?" a familiar voice said. It sounded surprised.

  Arvin could move again. He scrambled to his feet. When he turned around, he saw Pakal. The dwarf had an odd expression on his face. It looked as though he was trying to decide whether he was glad-or angry-to see Arvin again.

  Coiled on the ground beside Pakal was the winged serpent Arvin had mistaken for Sibyl. Arvin saw that it was no abomination-or at least, unlike

  any abomination he'd ever seen before. From its wedge-shaped head to the tip of its tail, the serpent was covered in feathers that glowed at the touch of sunlight. Midnight blue shaded into indigo, then into red, orange, yellow, and green. It had wings white and lacy as fresh frost, each feather tipped with vivid turquoise. Its face, though that of a serpent, was set in a kindly expression. Its smile was neither sly nor gloating but serene.

  A rosy glow emanated from Pakal's body, turning his skin a ruddy brown. He had one hand raised, two fingers extended in a forked position; claws were visible at their tips. He'd lost his blowgun, probably to the river, but his dart pouch was still attached to his belt. Pakal had obviously homed in on the Circled Serpent just as he had in Sibyl's lair. Smashing the statue had been a big mistake.

  The winged serpent next to him stared at Arvin with eyes like twin moons. Without opening its mouth, it spoke to Arvin, mind to mind. Its voice was a soft female trill. Which half of the Circled Serpent do you carry?

  Denial would have been pointless. The winged serpent radiated power. Even with a chance to perform his meditations, Arvin doubted he could counter it.

  "The lower half," he said. "The one Dmetrio had."

  Show me.

  Compelled, Arvin's hand slipped inside his shirt. It pulled out the lower half of the Circled Serpent. The serpent nodded.

  Arvin stared up at the feathered head. "What… are you?"

  A couatl, the voice trilled. One of those Ubtao

  known as Ts'ikil.

  Karrell's friend. Supposedly. "Are you an avatar?" Arvin asked.

  Laugher rippled into his mind. No. A servant of the god, nothing more. The couatl nodded at the artifact in Arvin's hand. Where is the other half?

  "It was lost in the river."

  Was it? The voice sounded bemused. Let us see.

  Arvin felt the couatl sifting through his thoughts, like a finger idly stirring sand. He clenched his hand around Karrell's ring. Without any energy to fuel his psionics, it was his only defence. The familiar rush of magical energy up his arm didn't come.

  It does not block me because I made it, the couatl said.

  The couatl rummaged a little longer in Arvin's mind then withdrew.

  Arvin felt sick. He knew the couatl must have found what she was looking for: a memory of the cave where he'd hidden his backpack.

  Pakal nodded in response to an unheard command and stepped forward. He held out a claw-tipped hand.

  "Don't make her force you," he warned.

  Reluctantly, Arvin handed the Circled Serpent to him. The dwarf tucked it into his belt pouch.

  "Please," Arvin said, his eyes locked on Ts'ikil's. "I need to rescue Karrell. She's in Smaragd, pregnant, and about to give birth. I have to get her out of there. Just open the door that leads to Smaragd long enough for me to slip inside; I'll find my own way out."

  For a moment, Pakal looked sorrowful. Then he snorted. "You really expect us to trust you?" The ruddy glow that surrounded his body intensified. The claws on the hand that held the lower half of the Circled Serpent lengthened.

  Arvin tensed, ready to counter the attack he knew was coming.

  The dwarf, however, turned toward Ts'ikil. "No," he said. "He might tell the Se'sehen where-"

  The couatl must have given him a silent rebuke; Pakal backed down.

  Ts'ikil turned to Arvin. Karrell's plight fills me with great sorrow, she said. If I could shift to the layer of the Abyss she
occupies, I would have attempted a rescue myself, but it's just not possible to reach her.

  Arvin's heart beat a little faster. His eyes were locked on Pakal's pouch. "It is possible. Now that we have both halves, we could-"

  The risk is too great.

  Pakal gave Arvin one last glare then climbed obediently onto the couatl's back. Ts'ikil coiled her body beneath her, unfurled her wings, and sprang into the air.

  "Wait!" Arvin called. "Take me with you!"

  Too late. Ts'ikil burst through the trees into the open sky and flew away.

  Arvin didn't waste his breath cursing. Instead he threw himself into the bhujang asana. It took all the willpower he possessed to still his mind and enter a meditative state. Frantic thoughts of Karrell filled his head.

  He had to hurryStay calm! he growled at himself.

  To fill his muladh ara and morph into a flying snakeBreathe in through the left nostril, out through the right.

  To beat the couatl back to the cave where he'd hidden his backpackBreathe! Draw in energy. Force it down. Coil it into the m uladhara.

  Before Ts'ikil got there. Before she found the other half and destroyedStop it! Still your mind! Control!

  He completed his meditation then whirled through the five defence poses and five attack poses like

  a manic dancer. Sweat flew from his body as he thrust with his hands, twirled and kicked. At last he was done.

  He yanked a mental fistful of energy into his navel-nearly making himself sick in the process- then up into his chest. The scent of saffron and ginger exploded into the air as he morphed. He did it clumsily, not caring that his serpent tail ended in two human feet or that his head, though tiny, was still human. What mattered were the wings. He thrust them out and muscled his way into the air, bursting out of the treetops like an arrow loosed from a bow. He wheeled, getting his bearings, then flew toward the rising sun. Ts'ikil was a black dot, silhouetted against its bright yellow glare.

  Despite having learned how to extend his metamorphosis well beyond its normal duration, Arvin had to land several times and remanifest the power. Each time he rose from the treetops, Ts'ikil was farther away. An ache clutched at his throat as he saw Ts'ikil dive down toward the sinuous break in the jungle that was the river. The couatl would recover the other half of the Circled Serpent long before Arvin would reach the bluff himself.

  Even though he knew it was hopeless, Arvin flew on. It seemed to take forever before he could see the river, let alone the bluff. Eventually, however, he saw the dark spots in it that were the caves and could pick out the one where he'd hidden the backpack. He spotted Ts'ikil coiled at the base of the bluff on a ledge beside the river. She was too big to enter the cave herself-she would have sent Pakal in to recover the other half of the Circled Serpent. There was no sign of the dwarf, however. Hope fluttered in Arvin's chest. Maybe he hadn't arrived too late, after all. Perhaps something had delayed Pakal and the Circled Serpent had not yet been destroyed.

  Arvin was just about to descend toward the cave when something in his peripheral vision caused him to turn his head. Something big raced downriver. Another winged serpent, flying almost at treetop level, its dark coloration blending with the jungle below. There was no mistaking its black body and batlike wings.

  Sibyl.

  She was almost at the bluff.

  Arvin activated his lapis lazuli. He didn't need to picture Ts'ikil in his mind, not when he could see her just ahead of him. Ts'ikil! he cried. Sibyl is flying toward you from the north. She's almost at the bluffs.

  The couatl reacted at once. Her white wings unfurled like sails and she sprang into the air. As she rose, a turquoise glow began at her wingtips and spread swiftly to cover her entire body-some sort of protective spell, Arvin guessed.

  As Ts'ikil rose above the bluff, Sibyl wheeled sharply. Her tail flicked forward, hurling a lightning bolt. It ripped through the air, striking the couatl in the chest. The turquoise glow surrounding her exploded into a haze of bright blue sparks as it absorbed the bolt's energy. A heartbeat later, the thunderclap reached Arvin, rattling his wing feathers. He dived toward the bluff, praying that neither of the combatants would notice him.

  Ts'ikil retaliated with a flicker of her tongue that sent twin rays of golden fire crackling toward Sibyl. So intensely bright were they that they left streaks of white across Arvin's vision. When he blinked them away, Sibyl was surrounded by a roiling cloud of black that lingered at treetop level. Arvin at first thought it was the aftermath of the couatl's attack, then remembered the yuan-ti's ability to shroud herself in darkness. Sibyl's attempt to make herself a more difficult target, however, did nothing to forestall Ts'ikil's

  second attack. The couatl swooped down toward the patch of darkness with an eagle's cry. The trees around and below the darkness shuddered, as if caught in an earthquake. Arvin's ears rang from the sound of Ts'ikil's scream.

  The darkness surrounding Sibyl started to dissipate, Sibyl's form slowly becoming visible. It looked as though she was struggling to stay aloft. Her wing beats were ragged and her head drooped. Ts'ikil swooped lower, closing in for the kill. Her wingtips brushed the uppermost branches of the trees.

  One of them came to life. Whipping its branches upward, it hurled a tangle of vines into the air that wrapped around Ts'ikil's tail, snagging it and jerking the couatl to a halt. She tore free an instant later, leaving a scattering of brightly colored feathers behind, but the momentary reprieve gave Sibyl the time she needed to mount another attack. She sent a tide of darkness toward the couatl-a boiling cloud that had a greasy, greenish tinge. Some of it touched the jungle below, and leaves fell away from the treetops like scraps of rotted cloth. Then it engulfed Ts'ikil. For the space of several heartbeats, all Arvin could see of the couatl were a handful of dull feathers falling out of the cloud. Then Ts'ikil emerged. Ugly brown patches marred her rainbow body.

  Sibyl had been using two of her hands to direct her spells; the other two held a glowing length of spiked chain, which burst into flame. She whirled it above her head and dived on Ts'ikil. One spiked end caught the couatl in the chest, knocking her sideways through the air, but not before the couatl twisted, lashing Sibyl's side with her tail.

  Sibyl recovered swiftly and swung her chain in a second attack. It passed through empty space as the couatl vanished, her body disappearing from tail to nose. Sibyl hissed and flailed with her chain, but her

  effort was futile. Just as Pakal had in Sibyl's lair, Ts'ikil had turned her body to air.

  She rematerialized a moment later behind Sibyl.

  Her, tail lashed forward, knocking the chain from Sibyl's hands. It fell, still flaming, to the jungle below.

  Ts'ikil's tail flicked out again, coiling around Sibyl's waist. With a mighty backward thrust of her wings Ts'ikil jerked the abomination toward her and bit

  Sibyl's neck. Sibyl, however, twisted in her grip and bit back, her teeth ripping feathers from Ts'ikil's shoulder. Locked together, wings beating and tails

  thrashing, the pair of winged serpents crashed down into the jungle below.

  By then, Arvin was approaching the cave where his pack was hidden. He felt a familiar tickle in his forehead. The iron cobra, it seemed, was still searching for him. It didn't matter; he could always outfly it. The battered minion was the least of his worries, at the moment.

  As he entered the cave, his wings tingled. A moment later, his serpent body sprang apart into legs and his wings shrank in upon themselves, becoming arms once more. He landed awkwardly, his body expanding and resuming human form. He was glad the transformation hadn't occurred in mid air.

  He spotted his backpack immediately at the side of the cave. It had been hauled out of its hiding place and opened, though the musk creeper net was still inside it. Arvin plunged his hand into the pack and felt around, searching each of its side pockets twice, then a third time. The box that held the upper half of the Circled Serpent was gone.

  Kneeling, Arvin balled his fists. Pakal had found the se
cond half of the Circled Serpent and made off with it. The dwarf could have been anywhere.

  Outside, Arvin could hear the two winged serpents thrashing in the jungle. A moment later, he

  heard wing beats and the sharp whistles and dull explosions of spells being cast. A breeze wafted in through the cave mouth, carrying with it the moist smell of the jungle-and of burned feathers. Ts'ikil was in trouble.

  Maybe Arvin could even the odds. He still had the musk creeper net. He rubbed the scar on his forehead that hid the lapis lazuli. He wouldn't be able to contact Ts'ikil a second time that day, but if he could lure Sibyl close to the cave mouth with a carefully worded sonding, he might be able to hurl the net on her.

  Two shapes streaked across the sky, just above the treetops on the opposite side of the canyon: Sibyl, with Ts'ikil in close pursuit. The abomination had a number of deep gouges down the length of her body, but Ts'ikil didn't look much better. She flew raggedly, favoring one of her wings. Arvin rushed to the mouth of the cave with his pack and leaned out, trying to see where they went, but the two winged serpents were already behind the bluff. He heard Ts'ikil's eagle cry and clapped his hands over his ears as her sonic attack struck the bluff, sending a shower of broken stone into the river below.

  As he turned, his eye fell on something that must have fallen out of his pack: a thin strip of fabric that had been tied into a series of intricate knots. He recognized it at once as something he must have made, but when he tried to remember when, he felt a curious, hollow sensation.

  He scooped it up and examined the knots. They were a code-one he'd invented himself, years ago- that was based on the silent speech used by rogues. Each knot, like a hand signal, represented a different letter of the alphabet. Quickly running them through his fingers, he deciphered the message: