by Lisa Smedman
When the spell was done, the woman stood. Glisena closed her robe and stood with her palms lightly pressing against her belly. "When will it take effect?" she asked.
The spellcaster gave her a motherly smile. "Some time tomorrow." She tugged at the ring on her little finger. 'This," she said, working it back and forth to pull it free. "Will convey you to me." She held the ring out to Glisena. "Use it as soon as you feel the magic of the spell begin."
Glisena took the ring with what looked like reluctance. A tear blossomed at the corner of one eye and trickled down her cheek. "Did he really tell you to end it?" she asked.
"He did." The spellcaster said in a grim voice. Then she patted Glisena's cheek. "But all's well now. We'll fool him." Glisena nodded and clenched her hand around the ring. "Yes."
"Now listen closely, and I'll tell you how the ring works," Naneth said.
The vision shifted then. The spellcaster disappeared, and Arvin had a palpable sense of leaping forward in time to a moment when Glisena stood in just the same spot in front of the hearth. As before, the moment was emotionally charged. Tears were streaming down her face. She wore clothes instead of a night robe, as well as a heavy cloak pinned at the shoulder and high leather boots. And her stomach was no longer flat. It bulged, visibly pregnant. Very pregnant.
Arvin whistled under his breath. No wonder Glisena and her father had argued. Glisena was carrying Dmetrio's child. A child that was only partly human. He watched as the ghostly Glisena toyed with something she held in her hands-the spellcaster's amber ring. A knock at the door caused her to startle, nearly dropping it.
"Glisena?" a muffled male voice called. "I'm sorry we argued. Can we talk?"
Glisena's eyes flew open wide. She glanced down at her belly then back at the door, and she drew her cloak around herself, as if to hide her pregnancy. Then her lips pressed together in a determined line. Tossing the ring on the floor, she spoke a word: "Ossalur!" As the ring hit the floor, it grew, expanding into a hoop fully two paces in diameter within the space of an eye-blink. Glisena jumped into the center of it-an awkward hop while holding her belly-and vanished. The ring contracted to its normal size then disappeared.
The door to her chamber opened. Baron Foesmasher poked his head tentatively into the room. "Glisena?" he called softly. He glanced at the empty bed-then looked wildly around the chamber. "Glisena!" he shouted. "Glisena!"
The vision faded.
Arvin let out a long, slow sigh and stood for several moments with his eyes closed. Then he turned to the baron. "I have news," he reported. "I've seen how Glisena esca-ah, that is, how she fled from the palace."
The baron ignored Arvin's slip of the tongue. "Tell me," he said.
"Your daughter was given a ring," Arvin said. "One that gave her the ability to teleport."
"Who gave it to her?" Marasa asked, her voice low and tense.
"A spellcaster," Arvin said. He started to describe the woman, but Marasa interrupted him after he'd barely begun.
"The midwife?" she asked. Then, to the baron, "What was she doing here, in the palace?"
Arvin was wondering the same thing. What had the spellcaster been doing to Glisena?
The baron stood rigid, his shoulders tense. The words jerked out of him. "Glisena was pregnant. By that… serpent. By Ambassador Extaminos."
Marasa's mouth dropped open. "Pregnant?" she whispered. Then she nodded to herself. "Was that why she'd been feeling unwell?"
The baron stared at the far wall, not answering. "And Naneth?" Marasa prodded.
"She came to cast a spell," the baron began. "A spell that…" His voice trembled. He sank onto the bed, head in his hands, unable or unwilling to say more.
Marasa's face paled. "Naneth came to end the pregnancy, didn't she?"
The baron refused to look up.
Marasa flushed with anger. "Killing an innocent is a grievous sin! And nothing is more innocent than an unborn child." She pointed a trembling finger at the baron. "Helm will never countenance this. Never! He will demand retribution. He-"
The baron looked up, his face twisted with remorse. "Helm has punished me already. Glisena is gone. Gone."
Marasa lowered her accusing hand. "Oh, Thuragar," she said, her voice anguished. "What were you thinking?" She turned her back on him and paced across the room to stare at the hearth, shaking her head.
Arvin shifted uncomfortably, wishing he were someplace else. He stood in silence, debating whether to tell the baron what he'd seen in that last vision. The spell Naneth had cast on Glisena hadn't ended her pregnancy. Instead, it had hastened it to term. In that first vision, Glisena had not been visibly pregnant-she was at most two to three months along. And in the second vision, the one in which she'd used the ring, she'd been full-bellied, close to giving birth. Yet only a day had passed.
The spell must have taken effect on the evening that Glisena disappeared. That was why she'd dismissed her servants that night-she could feel the spell starting
to work its magic. That was why she'd hidden her belly from view when her father knocked at her door.
The baron didn't know that Glisena was still pregnant.
But he would, once Arvin found her.
Sickened, Arvin stared at the carpet, unwilling to look at the baron. The last thing he wanted to do now was return Glisena to him.
Foesmasher balled his fist. "She's with Naneth," he said in a low voice. He sprang to his feet and crossed the room, wrenching the door open. "Stand aside," he shouted at someone as he stomped down the hall.
Marasa had whirled at the sudden motion. As the baron's heavy footsteps faded down the hall, she ran after him. "Thuragar! Wait!"
After a moment's hesitation, Arvin hurried after her. He caught up with Marasa as she was passing a guard who had a puzzled expression on his face. The baron was nowhere to be seen. Somewhere down the corridor, a door slammed.
Marasa grabbed Arvin's arm and dragged him down the hall with her. "He'll go to Naneth's house," she said in a low voice. "I'm worried. If he finds Glisena there…"
Arvin nodded grimly. "Indeed. And when he learns she's still pregnant-"
Marasa jerked to a halt. "She's what?"
"Still pregnant. Naneth didn't end the pregnancy- she cast a spell that hurried it along instead. In that last vision, Glisena looked ready to give birth at any moment. She may even have had the child by now."
Marasa looked grim. "We must find her, then. Quickly, before Thuragar compounds his sin."
Arvin's eyes widened. "He wouldn't harm the child… would he?"
"No," Ma rasa said. "He wouldn't. Not Thuragar," she said, sounding as if she were trying to convince herself.
"But I do fear for Naneth's safety."
"What can we do?"
"Does your mind magic allow you to teleport? Could you reach Naneth's house ahead of Thuragar?"
Arvin shook his head. "No. But I can send a warning to her"-shoving a hand into his pocket, he pulled out the lapis lazuli-"with this." He touched the fingernail- sized chip of stone to his forehead. It adhered at once as he spoke its command word. Drawing power from the magical stone, he manifested a sending. He imagined that he was looking at Naneth and felt a prickling at the base of his scalp. A heartbeat later her image solidified, and he was staring at the midwife. She was leaning over, placing a saucer filled with water inside something that Arvin couldn't see. As the connection between her and Arvin grew stronger, she jerked upright, spilling the water. Her mouth moved in a sharp question, but Arvin couldn't hear what she was saying.
"Naneth," he said, speaking the words aloud. "I know you have Glisena. If she's at your home, move her. Hide her. The baron is on his way there now. He knows what you did."
The sorcerer repeated her question; this time Arvin could hear it. "Who are you?" she said, staring intently at his face. Her eyes were narrow with suspicion. "I don't recognize you."
She paused, waiting for an answer, but Arvin couldn't give one. That was how the lapis lazuli worked-he
could send a brief message, and receive one in return. A few heartbeats later, the sending reached the limits of its duration. Naneth faded from view.
"It's done," Arvin said. "What now?"
"Are you quick on your feet?" Marasa asked. Arvin nodded.
"Then let's get moving. I know where Naneth
CHAPTER 7
They arrived at Naneth's residence just as the baron stormed out the front door, sword in hand. "Glisena's not here," he gritted. "Neither is Naneth. But the Eyes will round her up, soon enough."
Two of Foesmasher's soldiers emerged from the building, one of them holding the arm of a frightened-looking woman whose long black hair was starting to gray at the temples. She looked vaguely familiar, but Arvin couldn't place her.
"I've done nothing wrong," she protested. "We just want to question you," the soldier holding her arm said.
"I simply came to pay Naneth for her services," the woman continued, drawing her cloak protectively around herself with her free hand as the soldiers led her away. "I don't know where she is." She turned to the baron, a pleading look in her eyes. "Lord Foesmasher, please. Whatever quarrel you have with the midwife, I have no part in it."
Foesmasher ignored her. "Have one of the Eyes question her," he said. "Find out if she does know where Naneth is. And send a detail of soldiers to secure this house."
The soldiers nodded and led the woman away. "Baron Foesmasher," she pleaded. "Please don't imprison me. I've done nothing wrong."
Foesmasher stood, hands on his hips, scowling as she was led away.
Marasa, still panting from the run through the streets-the residence was more than two dozen blocks from the palace-exchanged a look with Arvin then hurried after the baron. "Thuragar," she said in an ominous voice. "You face Helm's wrath for what you ordered Naneth to do. You must atone before he-"
"I have other matters to attend to, first," Foesmasher snapped. Turning on his heel, he strode away.
Marasa hurried after him. "Thuragar, wait! Hear me out."
Arvin, only half listening, stared at the residence. It was a narrow building, two stories tall and sharing a wall with the building on either side. All of the windows were shuttered against the cold. His eyes ranged from one window to the next as he calculated the distance between them. If there was a wall that was a little thicker than it should be-enough to conceal a person- he'd find it when he counted off the paces inside.
The front door was open. Arvin walked up the short flight of steps that led to it and knocked-loudly.
"Naneth?" he called out, hoping that, if she was still here, she might recognize his voice.
No one answered.
A long hallway ran the length of the first floor.
On the left was a kitchen; on the right, a sitting room. A flight of stairs at the rear of the hall led to the second floor. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
The kitchen was warm and steamy; water boiled in a large pot on the stove. Bundles of drying herbs hung from the kitchen's ceiling beams, filling the air with their aromatic scents. Arvin moved the pot to the table, setting it beside a stack of neatly folded squares of white cloth, and the bubbling noise slowly calmed. He listened, but heard only the hiss of dried grain spilling from a sack that had slumped over inside a pantry cupboard. The doors of the pantry stood ajar, as if they'd been yanked open.
The sitting room also showed signs of the baron's intrusion. A tapestry lay on the floor beneath a broken curtain rod; a chair was on its side; and a shelf had been yanked away from one wall, spilling books onto the floor. One of them was on the hearth, its pages starting to curl from the heat of the fire. Arvin picked it up. Flipping idly through it, he saw that the book contained a number of illustrations: male and female pairs of various humanoid creatures-orcs, two-headed ettins, cloven-hoofed satyrs, lizardfolk, and several other races. Next to each figure was an enlarged drawing of that creature's genitals; the female illustrations were accompanied by a drawing showing a baby growing within the womb.
He had no idea what the text of the book said, but here and there he spotted a line that he recognized as Draconic. The spine of the book was deeply creased, as if it had been referred to many times, and one of the pages was marked with a ribbon. Flipping to it, Arvin saw an illustration of a male and female yuan-ti. Dmetrio Extaminos, it seemed, had been no aberration. It was common for a male yuan-ti to carry two swords in his scabbard… so to speak.
Closing the book, he set it back on the shelf.
A quick pacing of the first-floor rooms and a few knocks on walls determined that neither the kitchen nor the sitting room had any hiding places. There was a cupboard under the stairs at the back of the hall, but a glance inside revealed nothing but dust and cobwebs.
"Glisena?" Arvin called. "Are you here?"
There was, as he expected, no answer.
The stairs led to a landing with three doors. All were open. The one to Arvin's right looked as though it had been kicked open, splintering the door frame; it must have been locked when the baron arrived. Arvin glanced into the other two rooms first-a small washing-up room and a bedroom, its bed dragged to one side and its wardrobe open and spilling clothes-then turned his attention to the third room. He eased open the broken door.
"Glisena?" he called. "Naneth?"
As the door swung open, the stench struck him. Small and shuttered tight against the cold outside, the room reeked of snake. The walls were lined with tables; on these stood square containers made from panes of leaded glass, each with a wooden lid that had been drilled with holes. A different type of snake slithered around inside each container. One was a brown-scaled boa, coiled tight around a feebly twitching rat. Its body flexed, and the rat stopped moving. In the container next to it was a clutch of small green snakes, tangled together in a mating ball. Next to these was a flying snake from the southern lands, its body banded in light and dark green, its wings a vivid shade of turquoise. It fluttered inside its glass-walled container, hissing.
Arvin shook his head. Naneth certainly had odd taste in pets.
As he stepped into the room, a reddish-brown viper with a thick band of black at its throat reared up and spat a spray of venom onto the glass. Arvin eyed it warily, glad that the lid prevented it from getting out. The container next to it, however, was open; its lid sat on the table beside it. A saucer lay upside down inside the glass-walled cage, next to the gold-and-black-striped snake that was coiled there; this was where Naneth had been standing when Arvin contacted her with his sending.
Arvin picked up the lid and set it cautiously back in place, closing the cage. The snake inside, he saw now, was coiled on top of a clutch of eggs. Its body covered most of the small, leathery ovals, but as the snake shifted, Arvin caught a glimpse of something strange-it looked like a symbol, painted in red, on the egg that was closest to the glass. Squatting down for a closer look, Arvin saw he was right. The symbol was in Draconic. What it signified, he had no idea. He touched a hand to the glass the egg rested against, and it happened. Just as it had on the ship. For the space of several heartbeats, he stared, with naked eyes, into the future.
A pool of blood spread around someone's feet. And a finger-thin stream of red flowed away from the pool, toward a dark shape Arvin couldn't quite make out. Yet somehow he knew that it was something evil, something monstrous. The creature looked down then lifted the stream of blood from the ground with one hand-the hand of a woman-and began drawing the blood toward itself like a fisher hauling in a line.
Arvin's ears rang with an anguished scream-a woman's scream. Startled by it, he jerked his hand away. Only after his heart had pounded for several moments did he realize the sound had been part of his vision.
The snake shifted, covering its eggs once more. It looked at Arvin through the glass, tongue flickering in and out of its mouth, and gave a soft, menacing hiss.
Shaken by the premonition, Arvin stood.
Someone was going to die. Naneth?
He forced his mind back
to the job at hand. Had
Naneth still been in this room when the baron kicked the door in? If so, the room might hold a clue as to where she'd gone.
For the fourth time that evening, Arvin manifested the power that made him sensitive to psychic impressions. The snakes hissed as a low droning noise filled the air. Allowing the energy that lay just behind his navel to uncoil, Arvin held out a hand and turned in a slow circle, scanning the room. Ectoplasm blossomed in his wake on the containers that held the snakes, covering their glass with a translucent sheen.
Arvin focused on the saucer Naneth had dropped. A vision flashed before his eyes-of Naneth, startled, releasing it. The image was faint and ghostly, at first, but grew in detail and solidity as Naneth listened and responded to the warning Arvin had sent. By the end of the sending, the midwife was visibly agitated. She ran from the room, into the bedroom across the landing, and returned an instant later with something tucked in the crook of one arm. Slamming the door behind herself, she quickly locked it. She shoved aside one of the glass containers, ignoring the agitated hissing of her snakes, and placed the item on the tabletop. It turned out to be a wrought-iron statuette of a rearing serpent holding a fist-sized sphere of crystal in its mouth.
Arvin felt the blood drain from his cheeks. He'd seen a crystal ball identical to it once before. It had belonged to a yuan-ti named Karshis-a yuan-ti who had served Sibyl.
Sibyl, the abomination who had killed Naulg, Arvin's oldest friend.
Painful memories swam into Arvin's mind-of Naulg, barely recognizable as human, his body hideously transformed by the potion Sibyl's minions had forced him to consume. Driven insane by his transformation, Naulg had glared at Arvin after his rescue, frothing and snapping his teeth, not recognizing his friend. And
Arvin, staring down at one of the few people to have shown him kindness without wanting something in return, had realized that there was only one thing he could do for his old friend, one final kindness.
