by Lisa Smedman
"The birth will be… difficult," Davinu said, his voice a mere whisper.
Marasa's eyes glistened with anguish. "Yes."
Arvin shuffled his feet nervously.
Marasa turned to him. "Go," she said in a flat voice. "Rest and meditate-but do not leave the palace. We may have need of your mind magic later."
Arvin nodded. He wanted to wish Marasa and the other clerics luck, but if Helm had forsaken Glisena, so too might Tymora. His heart was heavy-could he do nothing to stop Sibyl's foul machinations? Giving Glisena one last sorrowful glance, he left the bed chamber and walked wearily down the corridor, back to the reception hall where he'd left Karrell.
She wasn't there.
Arvin turned to the soldiers. "The woman I came here with," he said. "Where did she go?"
The soldiers exchanged uncomfortable looks. "What?" Arvin snapped.
"She left a message for you," one of them answered at last. "She said she had to talk to someone, and for you to stay here, at the palace. She'll return when she was done."
Arvin felt his face grow pale. "Did she mention a name?"
The second soldier chuckled. "Looks like he's been stood up," he whispered to his companion.
The first soldier nodded then answered. "It was Zeliar… or Zelias. Something like that."
Arvin barely heard him. A chasm seemed to have opened at his feet. Nodding his thanks for the message, he stumbled from the room.
Zelia.
CHAPTER 14
Arvin sat in Karrell's room at the Fairwinds Inn, staring at the cold ashes in the fireplace, exhausted in mind and body. His limbs were heavy with fatigue and his wounds ached; even thinking was as difficult as wading through deep water.
What was Karrell doing, speaking to Zelia? She was putting not only Arvin's life in danger by doing so, but her own life, as well. The two women might share the same goal-finding Sibyl-but Zelia was utterly ruthless in that pursuit. She'd allowed Arvin and Naulg to fall into the hands of The Pox then subjected Arvin to one of the cruelest psionic powers of all in order to achieve her goal. Why would Karrell ever want to ally herself with such a person?
Because, Arvin thought heavily, Karrell was also a yuan-ti. She didn't fear that race, the way a human would.
And because-and with this thought, Arvin sighed heavily-Zelia was a far more powerful psion than he was, far more capable.
Had Karrell decided to abandon him?
The drawing Karrell had done of him was still lying on the table. He picked it up. She'd drawn him as he lay sleeping; in the portrait, his face looked relaxed, at peace, which was hardly how he felt right now.
Everything had gone right, yet everything had gone wrong. He'd done what Tanju had demanded of him- found Foesmasher's daughter-even without using the dorje. But what good had it done? Glisena was about to give birth to a demon; her chances of survival weren't high. And once again, those who had committed this foul crime-Naneth and the abomination Sibyl-would go unpunished.
Thunder grumbled in the coal-dark sky, a distant echo to Arvin's thoughts.
If Glisena did die, Foesmasher would be devastated. The baron didn't think clearly where his daughter was concerned. He was bound to take his frustrations out on those who were "responsible," in however oblique a way, for any harm that came to her. He demonstrated that when he'd lashed out at the soldier after the death of the satyr. Arvin might be the next one on the chopping block-especially if his absence from the palace were discovered. Marasa had instructed him to stay close at hand, and he'd disobeyed her. That alone would be enough to rouse the baron's wrath.
Arvin clenched his gloved hand until his abbreviated little finger ached. It was like serving the Guild, all over again.
He'd been wrong to think he could make a new home for himself in Sespech; wrong in putting his faith in the baron; and most of all, wrong about Karrell.
He stared at the bed in which they'd made love-in which they'd conceived a child-then he looked back at the portrait, still in his hand. He crumpled it and tossed it onto the cold ashes in the fireplace.
He leaned forward and drummed his fingers on the table. If he knew where Zelia was, he might have tried to head Karrell off, to talk some sense into her. But the baron had been too preoccupied-to say the least-for Arvin to ask him where Zelia had been spotted. All Arvin knew was that she was somewhere in Ormpetarr… Which was all Karrell knew about Zelia, as well. And yet the message she'd left with the soldiers sounded as if she knew where Zelia was. How? Karrell was a stranger here; she knew less about Ormpetarr than even Arvin did. She'd have no idea which inn Zelia might have chosen to stay atArvin stiffened. Zelia was an agent of House Extaminos, a trusted employee of Lady Dediana. She wouldn't stay at an inn.
She'd stay at the ambassador's residence.
That was where Karrell went.
His exhaustion suddenly forgotten, Arvin hurried from the room.
Arvin approached the ambassador's residence warily, his feet squelching on melting snow. If he was right in his guess that Zelia was staying here, he didn't want to run into her in the street. He pulled his hood up and tugged it down over his forehead to hide his wound. The lapis lazuli was still in place over his third eye; if Naneth scried on him again, he wanted to know it. Besides, removing the stone wouldn't accomplish much. Though the cut on his forehead had scabbed over completely, hiding the stone from view, Zelia would quickly realize what had prompted such a wound. Even with several days' worth of stubble shadowing Arvin's face, she'd recognize him.
He stared at the ambassador's residence from the shadow of an arched gate down the street. Several lights were on inside the building, and figures moved busily back and forth, their silhouettes passing across the draped windows. A large cargo wagon was pulled up in front of the main gate. The wagon was already half filled with boxes, rolled-up rugs, and furniture; slaves hurried back and forth from the residence, loading it.
It looked as though Ambassador Extaminos was beating a hasty retreat from Ormpetarr. Had he heard what was happening at the palace?
Four militiamen in cobra-hood helmets stood guard over the wagon. Arvin recognized one of them by his prominent nose. He touched the crystal at his neck, whispering a prayer of thanks to Tymora for sending him good fortune. He still had a little energy left in his muladhara, but he didn't want to spend it on a charm unless he had to. Rillis, fortunately, responded to more mundane prods.
Arvin fished two silver pieces out of his coin pouch then walked toward the front gate of the residence, hailing Rillis by name. "I'm looking for Karrell-the woman who was with me when I spoke with Ambassador Extaminos. Have you seen her?"
The young militiaman shook his head.
Relief filled Arvin. Maybe Karrell had second thoughts about talking to Zelia. Then again, maybe Rillis hadn't been in a position to spot her. "How long have you been on watch?"
"All night," Rillis said with a wry look. "As usual." "Always at the front gate?"
"Mostly," he said. He kicked at the slush. "The snow might be melting, but it's still been a damp, chilly night," he added with a wink.
Arvin noticed that Rillis wasn't shivering. He'd obviously been inside at least part of his watch, warming himself at the fire.
Rillis stared at the wound on Arvin's forehead. "What happened this time?" he asked. "Another naga?"
Arvin shook his head. "Nothing so exciting as that," he lied. "A thief tried to grab my coin pouch. He cut me."
Rillis nodded sympathetically. "Good thing he wasn't aiming lower," he said, drawing a hand across his throat.
Arvin nodded gravely. He stepped closer and opened his hand just enough to reveal the two coins. "There's another woman I'm also looking for. A yuan-ti who serves House Extaminos, named Zelia. She has red hair, green scales, and a blue forked tongue. Have you seen her?"
Rillis arched an eyebrow. "One gorgeous woman isn't enough?" He started to laugh but faltered when he saw the glower in Arvin's eye. "The red-headed yuan-ti is here," he said quickly
. "She's a guest of the ambassador."
Arvin glanced up at the residence. "Is she here now?"
Rillis rubbed his finger and thumb together. Arvin passed him the coins.
"Yes."
"Which room is she in?"
"Second floor. At the back. The second to last suite on the right." Rillis gave Arvin a tentative glance, his expression a mixture of greed and fear. "Do you… need me to get you inside?"
"That won't be necessary," Arvin answered. Rillis looked relieved.
Arvin took two more coins from his pouch and passed them to Rillis. "If Karrell does show up and asks for Zelia," he instructed, "tell her that Zelia's not here. That she's somewhere else."
Rillis grinned as he took the coins. "Consider it done. But I'm only on duty until dawn. The ambassador has finally risen from his dream sleep, and he's in a hurry to leave; I'll be part of the escort accompanying him to the morning riverboat."
"Will Zelia be going with him?" Arvin asked. "Or will she be staying on at the residence?"
Rillis shrugged. "That's up to the new ambassador. He'll decide which slaves and militia-and which house guests-he wants to stay on."
"Thanks," Arvin said. "You've been a big help."
He walked down the street, turned a corner, and circled around the block to the street at the rear of the ambassador's residence. He walked the length of the building, glancing up at the residence only when the two militiamen who were standing out back weren't watching. The last two windows of the second floor were dark, but light glowed through the next two; that must have been Zelia's suite. The curtains on one of the windows had been drawn but not quite all the way; a slight gap remained. It was impossible, however, to see inside from this angle.
The militiamen watched Arvin as he walked the length of the block but lost interest in him as he turned the corner. Making his way to the rear of the building that was directly behind the ambassador's residence, he walked up a short flight of stairs to one of its doors. Pretending to be fitting a key into the lock, he glanced up and down the street. No one was watching. Then he activated the magic within his bracelet and climbed the wall.
Arvin swung himself up onto the roof. Crawling to the far side through patches of wet snow, he stared across the street at the window that had caught his attention a moment ago. Through the gap in its curtains he spotted Zelia. She was seated in a chair that had its side to the window. She was leaning forward in hungry anticipation, her forked tongue flickering through a smile that sent shivers through him. She'd smiled at Arvin in just the same way when she gloatingly told him about the seed she'd planted in his mind. She leaned forward more, gesturing at someone who sat opposite her.
A sudden dread filled him. Who was Zelia talking to?
He crawled farther along the rooftop, ignoring the discomfort of the slush that had soaked through his pants and shirt. No matter what angle he viewed the window from, however, he couldn't see the second person. Working his way back to his original position-a spot directly opposite the window-he sent his awareness into his third eye. He was taking an enormous chance by manifesting a power-if Zelia detected his psionics, he would give himself away-but he had to know if Karrell was inside.
As the energy stored in his third eye uncoiled, a thread of silver light spun out into the night, toward the window. It penetrated the glass and touched the curtain inside, weaving its way into the fabric. Then, one tiny tug at a time, it began to pull.
Slowly, the curtain eased back. After each tug, Arvin waited for several heartbeats, terrified that Zelia might hear the soft slide of the curtain on its rod or notice the gradually widening gap between the curtains. She didn't.
Finally, Arvin got a glimpse of the person she was talking to. It wasn't Karrell.
It was Naneth.
Arvin blinked in surprise. He'd expected Naneth to come to Ormpetarr in an attempt to recapture Glisena, but he'd also expected her to show up at the palace. He did not expect her to be here, inside the ambassador's home.
He had to find out what was going on.
With all that remained of the energy in his muladhara, he manifested one last power. Sparkles of light streamed out of the center of his forehead then curled around his head. With them came a heightened awareness. The lighted windows in the ambassador's residence became a babble of overlapping sounds; the lights elsewhere in the city, a distant hum. Even the stars in the night sky emitted a faint, crackling hiss.
Those, however, weren't the sounds Arvin was interested in.
He curled both of his hands into loose fists then held both of them up to his left eye, forming a tube. Through it, he peered at Zelia's window with his other eye shut. The waves of noise that had been pouring into his mind were stopped down to a trickle; now he "saw" only the sounds emanating from Zelia's room. He had to shift, slightly, to screen out the light from the hearth, which filled his mind with a sharp crackle. The fire had been well stoked; like all yuan-ti, Zelia liked her rooms at basking temperature. At last he managed to narrow his field of view to include just Zelia and Naneth. As he did, their voices sprang into focus.
"… to be done tonight," the midwife said.
"Why?" Zelia asked.
"Because Foesmasher has summoned his clerics," Naneth said urgently. "He's convinced them to do his dirty work. This time, the child will be killed."
Zelia arched an eyebrow. "Surely he wouldn't slay his own grandchild?"
Naneth snorted. "He doesn't have the same respect for life that Lady Dediana does. To him, the child is just a serpent. I've heard it said that he refers to it as `the demon.'" She shook her head in a parody of sadness, sending a ripple through her double chin.
Zelia lounged in her chair, her expression confident. "I'll get the girl out."
"How?" Naneth asked. "Glisena's chamber is warded against serpents."
Zelia smiled. "There are ways of getting around wards."
Naneth leaned forward, pudgy hands on her knees. "Just so long as you can do it. Remove her from the palace, and I'll teleport her to Hlondeth."
"Directly to the House Extaminos compound?" Zelia asked.
Naneth nodded. "Yes. Tell your mistress the girl will be delivered, as promised."
Arvin waited, tense with anticipation.
"I'll contact you as soon as I have her," Zelia promised.
"This needs to be done sooner, rather than later," Naneth urged. "As swiftly as you can."
"Swift as a striking serpent," Zelia agreed with a hiss of laughter. She leaned forward as she spoke, playing with a strand of her long red hair. It parted, revealing a finger-long chunk of crystal that hung from a silver hoop in her ear. Judging by its faint glow, it was a crystal capacitor or power stone-which was strange, since Zelia had always before scorned the use of psionic "crutches."
Something must have made Naneth nervous; the midwife raised a hand to her temple to wipe sweat from her forehead.
Zelia settled back into her chair, staring at Naneth through slit eyes. Her tongue flickered out of her mouth, as if she were savoring the midwife's discomfort.
Naneth wiped her temple, glanced in the direction of the hearth, and moved her chair a little farther from it. Arvin gave a mental nod; he felt the same discomfort in the yuan-ti's overheated rooms.
"Will you be staying on in Sespech once our business is concluded?" Naneth asked.
Zelia smiled. "Only for a few days," she said. "Then we really must leave."
"Who is "we'?" Naneth asked.
Zelia smiled. "You'll find out-seven days from now." A soft, satisfied hiss of laughter followed.
Arvin's eyes widened as he realized what he'd just witnessed. Naneth hadn't been wiping sweat from her brow. She'd been wiping away a sheen of ectoplasm. Zelia had just seeded her. The earring-a power stone-must have contained a copy of the mind seed power.
The power that Arvin thought he had stripped from her for good, six months ago.
Arvin closed his eyes, blocking out both sight and sound. Bile rose in his t
hroat; he swallowed it down. He could guess what must have happened. He'd relayed his warnings about Naneth being one of Sibyl's minions to Tanju, who in turn had conveyed them to Lady Dediana. And she, in turn, had passed the information along to Zelia, her agent in Sespech. Together, no doubt, with an order: that Zelia try, once again, to plant a spy within Sibyl's ranks.
Thunder grumbled from a clear sky: the laughter of Hoar. Naneth had placed a demon in Glisena's womb, and Zelia had just planted a mind seed in the midwife. The god of poetic justice was, beyond a doubt, pleased.
Arvin shuddered.
He watched as the two women in the room exchanged good-byes. Zelia promised to use another sending to contact Naneth the instant Glisena was out of the palace. Naneth nodded then teleported away.
Zelia turned and stared out the window, her eyes flashing silver as she manifested a power. Fearful that she would detect him, Arvin immediately ended his power. For several terrible moments he held his breath, bracing himself for her attack. Then he saw Zelia shiver.
An annoyed look on her face, she swayed to the window and yanked the curtains shut.
Slowly, Arvin let out his breath. Then he scrambled to the far side of the building and climbed back down to the street. He hurried up the road, casting several glances behind him, but saw no signs of pursuit. Relieved, he turned his steps toward the Fairwinds Inn.
As he walked, he pondered what he'd just seen and heard. He didn't believe for a moment that Zelia would attempt to remove Glisena from the palace-she'd just wanted to distract Naneth while she seeded her. That seed, however, would take seven days to blossom. And long before those seven days ended, Naneth would face Sibyl's wrath for having failed to deliver the pregnant Glisena to Hlondeth. What good would Zelia's mind seed be then?
He reached the inn and-after one more careful glance around-let himself in through the back door. He climbed the three flights of stairs that led to the attic room that Karrell had rented. As he reached the landing, he heard sounds of movement behind her door. Karrell had at last returned, it seemed. He prayed she'd been unsuccessful in finding Zelia. As he started to reach for the latch, he heard a wooden clatter that sounded like a chair falling over inside the room. It was immediately followed by a whispered oath, spoken by a male voice.
