Viper's kiss hos-2

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Viper's kiss hos-2 Page 10

by Lisa Smedman


  The baron turned to Arvin, a suspicious look in his eye. "Why are you so interested in my daughter's health?"

  Arvin paused, considering whether to tell the baron about Zelia. Foesmasher was a powerful man, with an army at his disposal. That army included clerics of Helm-clerics who had proven themselves capable of dealing with the yuan-ti. They could arrest Zelia and throw her in prison. On the other hand, Zelia's presence in Sespech might be mere coincidence; she might not be searching for Arvin, after all. If she was hauled before the baron for questioning and was able to probe his thoughts, she'd be alerted to the fact that Arvin was alive, and in Sespech. If she later escaped…

  Arvin decided it was worth the risk. Perhaps Zelia would resist capture, and the clerics would kill her. The thought made Arvin smile.

  "There is a power that psions can manifest," he told the baron, "one that plants a seed in the victim's mind that germinates slowly, over several days. During that time, the victim suffers head pains and experiences brief flashes of memory-the memories of the psion who planted the seed. On the seventh day…" He paused, revisiting the dread he'd felt at slowly losing control of his mind. For six days and nights, Zelia's mind seed had warped his thoughts and slithered into his dreams, turning them into nightmares. Under its influence,

  Arvin had lashed out at people who tried to help him, had even killed an innocent man. Only on the seventh day, when he'd been within heartbeats of having his own consciousness utterly extinguished, had the mind seed at last been purged.

  "On the seventh day?" the baron prompted.

  Arvin chose his words carefully; he was about to impart what might be very bad news, indeed. "On that day," he said slowly, "the victim's own mind is destroyed, and replaced it with a copy of the psion's mind, instead."

  Marasa's face paled. "Helm grant it is not so," she whispered.

  The baron leaned forward, his eyes intent on Arvin. "You know someone who can cast this spell," he said. "Someone here, in Sespech."

  Arvin met his eye. "Yes."

  "Name him."

  "It's her, not him," Arvin answered. "Her name is Zelia. I spotted her three days ago, at Riverboat Landing. She's a yuan-ti."

  Arvin expected the baron to immediately demand a description, but Foesmasher seemed disinterested. Beside him, Marasa looked visibly relieved.

  "Aren't you going to arrest Zelia?" Arvin asked. "If she planted a mind seed in your daughter-"

  "She couldn't have," the baron said. "Glisena has had no contact with yuan-ti for… some time."

  "How can you be so sure?" Arvin asked. "Yuan-ti can assume serpent form. Zelia could have slithered into the palace undetected and-"

  Marasa interrupted him. "Tell him, Thuragar," she said, giving the baron a hard look.

  Baron Foesmasher sighed. "You will, no doubt, have heard that I disapproved of Ambassador Extaminos's courtship of my daughter?" he said.

  Arvin nodded.

  "A little over a month ago, I forbade my daughter from seeing Ambassador Extaminos again. I took precautions against him… contacting her. It is no longer possible for a yuan-ti to enter certain sections of the palace. The hallways, doors, and windows-every possible entrance to those parts of the palace that Glisena would have any cause to enter-have been warded to prevent serpents from entering. All serpents. Even yuan-ti in human form."

  He gave a heavy sigh before continuing. "Glisena has not… had not," he corrected himself, "set foot outside those sections of the palace since this was done. She's had no contact with serpents since that time. That is how I know this Zelia person could not have planted a mind seed in my daughter."

  "I see," Arvin said. He understood, now, why the baron was so certain his daughter had run away. Anyone would, after being placed under what was, essentially, a prison sentence, however sumptuous and comfortable the prison might be. Arvin was starting to have second thoughts about the baron. If he ruled his own daughter with such a domineering hand, how did he treat his hirelings?

  "You're certain the wards were effective?".Arvin asked.

  It was Marasa who answered. "I oversaw their placement myself." The look she gave the baron suggested she'd been unhappy with this task.

  Arvin nodded. Even if Zelia had relearned the mind seed power, it wouldn't have been possible for her to plant a seed in Glisena-she wouldn't have been able to get close enough to the princess.

  Marasa leaned closer to the baron and spoke, interrupting Arvin's thoughts. "This "mind seed' could be used to create the perfect spy," she told him in a voice that was pitched low-but not quite low enough that Arvin couldn't overhear.

  "Yes," the baron agreed. "It could." He gave Arvin a level stare. "Is that why you told us about Zelia? Is this a warning from Lady Dediana-that she has ears within my court?"

  Arvin met the baron's eyes. "I didn't come to Sespech to play at politics, Lord Foesmasher," he answered. "I'm here for one purpose only: to find your daughter. Whether Zelia has seeded anyone in your court is a question that's best put to her. But be careful; Zelia's dangerous. This I know, from personal experience."

  "She's your enemy," the baron observed. "Yet you serve the same mistress."

  Arvin took a deep breath. Now was the moment he'd been waiting for, the moment to make a commitment- one that would affect everything that was to follow in his life. He reminded himself that this wasn't like his incarceration in the orphanage, or his obligation to the Guild. He was choosing this alliance.

  "I don't serve Lady Dediana," he told the baron. "I'm a free agent; I choose who I work for. It is my belief that working for a human-especially a man of your stature-will be much more… rewarding."

  The baron gave a low chuckle. "I see." He exchanged a look with Marasa. "I think that, after Arvin has found my daughter, he and I will have a chat about mind seeds and spies… and rewards."

  "Will you arrest Zelia?" Arvin asked.

  "That wouldn't be expedient at the moment," Foe- smasher replied. "There was an… unfortunate incident a few days ago. It seems that the new ambassador from Hlondeth had an altercation with one of the less reputable citizens of Mimph-an altercation that resulted in his arrest. If I simply order his release, it will appear that certain people are above Helm's law. Yet if I allow the Eyes to place Helm's mark on him, it may fracture the alliance. I have to tread carefully, where yuan-ti are concerned. I can't afford to ruffle any more scales."

  Arvin realized at once who the baron was talking about: the yuan-ti who had attacked the young pickpocket. He shook his head in disbelief. The yuan-ti had a lot to learn about diplomacy.

  Foesmasher continued speaking. "If you provide me with a description of Zelia, I will see to it that she is watched. If she comes to Ormpetarr, you'll be alerted."

  Arvin murmured his thanks. It was time to get back to business. "You said that, on the night of Glisena's disappearance, she retired to her chambers and dismissed her servants. Presumably after that, she slipped out her door-"

  "No," the baron said. "The guard in the hall was questioned under Helm's truth. He did not see her, and he was awake all night."

  "Did she climb out a window?"

  "Her chamber has no window."

  Glisena was sounding more like a prisoner by the moment.

  "Does your daughter know any magic?" Arvin asked.

  Foesmasher shook his head. "Not so much as a cantrip. Yet she must have used magic to flee the palace. Someone aided her."

  "Or kidnapped her," Marasa muttered under her breath.

  Wanting to stave off another argument, Arvin interrupted. "I'm ready to manifest my power," he told them. "Could I see Glisena's chamber?"

  "High Watcher Davinu already examined it," Marasa said. "There was nothing-"

  "And now the psion will examine it-with mind magic," Foesmasher told her sternly. "Come," he said to Arvin, rising from his chair. "I'll take you there."

  Glisena's bedchamber was even more ornate than Arvin had imagined. The bed, side tables, and wardrobe were painted white an
d trimmed with gilt. The rug on the floor was also white, with a border of prancing centaurs. Arvin's feet sank into its softness as he entered the room. The windowless walls were divided into paels, painted with scenes of noblewomen waving silken favors at jousting knights. The ceiling was of molded white plaster, the pattern an ornate spray of bouquets and tree boughs.

  The chamber gave the appearance of still being occupied. A fire crackled in the hearth, and a brazier filled with scented oil perfumed the air. A gown had been laid out on a clothing rack and fresh water stood in a pitcher beside a floral-print wash bowl. Next to these were a comb and brush. The bed was turned down for the night.

  "I felt it wise to keep up appearances," the baron explained. "None of the servants know that Glisena is gone."

  Marasa, standing a little behind him, shook her head sadly but made no comment. "What do you hope to find here?" she asked Arvin.

  "There is a psionic power that allows me to view emotionally charged events that have occurred in this room," Arvin explained. "Whether Glisena ran away or was kidnapped, she's certain to have been highly emotional at the time. I hope to catch a glimpse of something that will provide some clue as to where she went." He glanced around the room, wondering where to begin. "The manifestation will take some time," he told them over his shoulder. "Please don't interrupt until-"

  The baron placed a heavy hand on Arvin's shoulder and turned him around. "You said you were going to use mind magic to track her-not to spy on her private moments. What my daughter does in her chamber is her own affair."

  "What are you so concerned about, Thuragar?" Marasa asked. "That he might catch a glimpse of Glisena undressing for bed?"

  The baron's face flushed. "He will not cast that spell."

  "Thuragar!" Marasa said in an exasperated voice. "Your daughter is missing. Surely a chance at finding her, no matter how slim it might be, is more important than-"

  "Lord Foesmasher," Arvin interrupted. "Be at ease. I assure you that, whatever I might see, I will be… discreet."

  "For Glisena's sake, Thuragar," Marasa said. "Let him cast the spell."

  Arvin smiled to himself. Marasa, so doubtful of his powers at first, now seemed willing to believe in them.

  The baron stood in silence for several moments, conflicting emotions in his eye. At last, reluctantly, he nodded. "Very well." His hand fell away from Arvin's shoulder. "Begin."

  Arvin looked around the chamber, sizing up its contents. Though the power could provide glimpses into the past of any event that happened in the immediate area-up to three dozen paces away from the manifester-it was most effective if it was concentrated on a specific item-a bed that an angry young woman might have flopped down onto after an argument with her father, for example.

  Touching one of the lace-trimmed pillows, Arvin manifested the power. Psionic energy awoke within two of his power points: his throat vibrated, and a coil of energy slowly unwound within his abdomen, tickling the area around his navel. The baron and Marasa glanced uneasily at each other as a low droning filled the air-part of the secondary display. As the power manifested fully, Arvin felt the pillow dampen with ectoplasmic seepage where his fingertips touched it.

  The vision came almost at once. Suddenly the bed was occupied by two people thrashing against one another-a man and a woman making love. The figures were transparent, almost ghostly, and seemed to be writhing on the neatly folded-down sheets without ever mussing them.

  The woman was young and somewhat plain in appearance; her face was a little too square to ever be pretty, though her naked body was sensuously curved. Her head was thrown back in rapture, her long loose hair splayed against the pillow Arvin was touching. Arvin felt a blush warm his face as he realized he was looking at the baron's daughter, soon to peak in her passion.

  The man on top of Glisena had his back to Arvin. His lower torso was hidden by the bedding. But when he tossed back his long, dark hair, Arvin caught a glimpse of slit pupils and snake scales, and a face he recognized at once. Dmetrio ran the forked tip of his tongue along Glisena's breast, and as her mouth fell open in a low, shuddering moan, he began to laugh. The look in his eyes was harsh, triumphant. He suddenly withdrew from her, levering himself up off her body, and spoke in a sneering hiss. "If you want more," he taunted, "you'll have to beg for it."

  "Please," Glisena gasped, clutching at Dmetrio and trying to draw him back down to her. "I'd do anything for you. Please."

  "That's a good start," Dmetrio said, a look of triumph in his slit eyes. His feet were visible now, protruding out of the bedding. They were rounded and scaly and looked like snake tails; each foot ended in a single large, blunt toe. Dmetrio wrenched himself free of Glisena and sat up in a kneeling position, then twined his fingers in Glisena's hair and yanked her forward. Dmetrio, like many yuan-ti males, had a slit at the

  groin, inside which his reproductive organs rested. Arvin, staring, was horrified to see emerging out of it not one, but two…

  With a shudder, Arvin yanked his fingers away from the pillow. He felt sullied by what he'd seen. If he did manage to find the baron's daughter, it would be hard to look her in the eye.

  "Well?" the baron asked. "What did you see?"

  Arvin hesitated. The baron had closed the gate long after the horse had bolted from the stable-or rather, into the stable, in this case. The wardings on the palace had been in vain, but how to tell the baron that diplomatically?

  "Your daughter was quite… passionate about Dmetrio, wasn't she?" Arvin began.

  The baron's face purpled as he realized what Arvin was implying. "Here? In this room?"

  Marasa glanced sharply at the baron.

  "I saw Glisena and Dmetrio kissing," Arvin said. "The vision must have been more than a month old- from before the wards were set. It wasn't the one I was hoping for. I'll try again."

  Before the baron could reply, Arvin retreated into a second manifestation. As the droning of his secondary display filled the air once more, he looked around the room, this time trying to pick up general impressions. As he glanced at the baron, he once again saw a double image-a ghostly baron standing just behind the first, his face also twisted with rage. He was shouting something. Curious, Arvin extended his hand in that direction, willing the vision to come into focus.

  It did, with a volume that startled him.

  "You will never see him again!" the ghostly image roared.

  Arvin heard the sound of weeping behind him. He turned and saw Glisena-fully clothed, this time, and sitting on a neatly made bed-wringing a lace-trimmed

  handkerchief in her hands. Tears were sliding down her cheeks and a strand of her dark hair had fallen out of the pearl-studded net that held her hair in a bun at the nape of her neck. "But we're in love," she sobbed.

  The baron snorted. "You're in love. That… snake is as cold-hearted as any of his race. He cares nothing for you, girl. Nothing."

  Glisena shook her head fiercely. "That's not true. You'll see. When I tell him about-"

  "You'll tell him nothing." The baron strode forward and loomed over Glisena. "Nor will you tell anyone else what's happened. We're going to take care of this… quietly."

  Anger blazed in Glisena's eyes and flushed her cheeks. "You only care about your stupid alliances. If Dmetrio marries me-"

  "He won't."

  "Yes, he will," Glisena shrilled. "And when he does, your hopes of an alliance with Turmish are over. You can't force me to marry Lord Herengar's son. He's as stupid as he is ugly."

  "At least he's human," the baron spat back.

  "What do you think I am?" Glisena wailed. "A child? I'm a grown woman. You can't do this to me."

  The baron's voice dropped dangerously low. "You did this to yourself," he growled. "And now you'll face the consequences." Turning on his heel, he wrenched open the door, startling the guard who stood in the hallway outside. "Make sure she doesn't leave," he snapped at the guard then slammed the door behind himself.

  The vision-and Glisena's faint sobbing-fad
ed.

  "What did you see this time?" the baron asked. His voice startled Arvin; it took a moment for Arvin to realize that he was back in the here and now. A fine sheen of ectoplasm shimmered in the baron's hair. He didn't seem to notice it.

  Arvin swallowed nervously. The last thing he wanted to report was that he'd listened in on a family argument-a very private family argument.

  "I didn't see much this time," he said, "just Glisena sitting on her bed, crying. But I think I'm getting closer to the night of her disappearance. I'll try again."

  The baron gave a brief nod. His hands, Arvin noticed, were white-knuckled. What was it he was so afraid of?

  Arvin manifested his power a third time, scanning the room, and out of the corner of his eye saw a movement near the hearth. There were two ghostly women there, one standing, the other kneeling in front of her. Concentrating on these, he brought them into focus.

  The standing woman was Glisena. She held her night robe slightly open, revealing her stomach. The look on her face was one of acute apprehension.

  The woman who knelt in front of her touched Glisena's stomach with a forefinger and chanted in a language Arvin couldn't understand. Her finger moved back and forth across the bare flesh as if sketching, but left no visible marks. She was casting a spell of some description, but Arvin had no idea what its purpose might be.

  This second woman had her back to Arvin; all he could tell was that she was large and was wearing a dark green cloak. He moved across the room-closer to the hearth, which began to sweat a sheen of ectoplasm- and got a view of her face.

  The spellcaster had heavy jowls, a double chin, and brown hair with a streak of gray at one temple. Her small eyes were screwed shut as she concentrated on her magic. Arvin looked for a brooch or pendant that might be a cleric's holy symbol, but saw none. The only item of jewelry the woman wore was a ring, a band of brownish-red stone around her pudgy little finger. A band carved from amber, Arvin thought, identifying the stone from the lingering bits of gem lore Zelia's mind seed had left him with.

 

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