"You knew her?" Arvin asked, incredulous. He thought quickly back over what Karrell had told him of her past-and her affiliations. "Are you one of the K'aaxlaat?"
The dwarf's eyes shifted at the question-answer enough. "Do you know what the ring does?"
Arvin nodded. "It shields thoughts."
The dwarf stared a challenge at him. "Take it off. Then tell me how you know Karrell-and how she died."
Arvin glanced warily around. "Here? Right now? What if Sibyl-"
"She is not that close. Speak quickly; there is still time."
Reluctantly, Arvin eased the ring off his finger. It felt like a part of Karrell-a part of him now. Speaking in a quick whisper, Arvin told the dwarf how he'd met Karrell, how they'd decided to join forces to fight Sibyl, and about how one of Sibyl's minions-the marilith-had yanked Karrell into the Abyss when it had been banished.
"It was my fault," he concluded. "I manifested the power that did it."
"Did what?" the dwarf asked.
Throughout Arvin's explanation, the red glow surrounding the dwarf faded. The hand that gripped Arvin's was normal again, without claws.
Arvin frowned. "I linked Karrell's fate with the demon's-but you should have been able to tell that from listening to my thoughts."
The dwarf shook his head. "My god has not granted me that ability."
"But-"
The dwarf nodded at Karrell's ring. "You were willing to remove it. I knew you were telling the truth."
"Then you believe me when I say that I came here with the same goal as you." Arvin shifted the backpack away from his injured hip. It was still bleeding. He took off his shirt, wadded it into a ball, and pressed it against the wound. He only needed to stay alive long enough to throw his net. "Lead the way."
The dwarf nodded at the blood that soaked Arvin's shirt. "First, there is something you need." He held out broad hands, as if in question.
Arvin nodded-then winced as the dwarf pinched the wound in his leg shut with his fingers. For several heartbeats, the pain was intense, but Arvin gritted his teeth against it. When the dwarf finished whispering, Arvin looked down at his hip and saw a threadlike vine, dotted with tiny leaves, holding the two edges of the cut together. The vine had a scent that reminded Arvin of a healing potion he'd once drunk. He flexed his leg. The muscle in his hip felt whole, and the pain was gone.
"Thank you, ah…"
The dwarf bowed, then supplied his name. "Pakal. Of the K'aaxlaat, as you guessed."
"I'm Arvin, of… no particular affiliation. My motive for wanting to kill Sibyl is strictly personaclass="underline" to avenge Karrell."
"Thard Harr grant that your wish is fulfilled, some day."
"Today will be just fine," Arvin said. "Just lead me to Sibyl."
Pakal pointed back the way they had come. "Sibyl went in the opposite direction. She took the right passage when the tunnel first forked."
Arvin blinked. "You're not here to kill Sibyl? But I thought-" Then he guessed why the dwarf had disguised himself and come to the temple: for the same reason Karrell had come north to Hlondeth. "You're looking for the Circled Serpent."
Pakal nodded, and Arvin wondered if Pakal knew that Sibyl only had half of it.
"You can tell where it is?" Arvin asked.
"Yes." Pakal raised his hand and extended the first two fingers in a V shape. "With these." He pointed in the direction he'd been going. "The Circled Serpent lies in that direction."
"Is that so?' Arvin mused under his breath.
He remembered what Karrell had told him-that her search for the half of the Circled Serpent that Dmetrio had retained had been thwarted by something as simple as a lead-lined box. Surely Sibyl would have used a similar protection. Pakal had extremely powerful magic-he'd demonstrated that by getting past the wards Sibyl used to protect her lair-but even so…
"Doesn't this seem a little too easy?" Arvin asked. "We're deep in Sibyl's lair, yet there's been no sign of her minions."
"Any that might have pursued were squished like worms."
"That doesn't explain the lack of guards in these corridors," Arvin said. "It's almost as if Sibyl wants the Circled Serpent to be found. The easiest way to catch a mouse, they say, is to set out bait."
The dwarf grinned. "I am one mouse the serpent's coils cannot catch."
Arvin started to protest further then realized that if he was right-if Sibyl appeared in person to spring her trap-he'd get a second chance to snare her with his net, and Pakal seemed pretty confident of his own escape. The dwarf might have been deluding himself, but it was his decision. He'd been warned.
"You've got a way out, then," Arvin said. "Good."
Pakal stared up at him. "Don't you?"
Arvin shrugged. "That doesn't matter. Killing Sibyl does. Now that Karrell's…"
Arvin's eyes stung. He blinked.
"You loved her," Pakal said.
"Very much," Arvin agreed. Then he squared his shoulders. "I'm coming with you," he told the dwarf. "I've learned a few tricks from the guild. If there are traps guarding the Circled Serpent, I may be able to disarm them."
Pakal smiled. "Did you think I would come so ill prepared? I, too, can neutralize traps, but come. We have wasted enough time."
The dwarf led Arvin deeper into Sibyl's inner sanctum The passage forked three more times, and each time, the dwarf paused to determine their direction and disarm another protective glyph. The corridors they followed continued to be empty, heightening Arvin's suspicions that it was a trap. At last the tunnel turned a corner and dead-ended in a massive stone, carved in the shape of a snarling, bestial face, that filled the corridor like a plug.
"It's here," Pakal said, "behind this door."
"How do we open it?" Arvin asked.
"With a spell, but first…"
Whispering a prayer, Pakal moved his hands over the face, his palms not quite touching the stone. The mouth began to glow a dull red. For a terrible
moment, Arvin thought the dwarf had activated a magical trap, but Pakal merely nodded.
"Trapped, as I suspected," he said. He stepped back and whispered a prayer, raking the air with curved fingers. Then his shoulders slumped. "The magic is too strong," he said as the glow faded. "I can not dispel it." He turned to Arvin. "I can still open the door, but without knowing what the trap does, it will be risky."
"I might be able to help," Arvin said.
Turning his palm in the direction of the massive stone face, he tapped the energy that swirled around his navel, drawing it up into his throat. A low droning filled the air and a thin sheen of ectoplasm glistened on the stone face as his power manifested. A psychic echo of the past flowed into his mind: a vision of a yuan-ti in old-fashioned clothing, carrying a lantern, who approached the face and cast a spell. The mouth yawned open, giving a brief glimpse of a chamber beyond, and the yuan-ti bent to slither through. As he entered, rubbery black tentacles erupted from the mouth, filling it like a nest of snakes. They lashed out at the intruder, wrapping around his arms, legs, and neck. Then they yanked, each in a different direction. The yuan-ti was literally torn to pieces; his limbs and head wrenched from his body with wet tearing noises. The tentacles released what remained of him and retreated. Then the mouth slammed shut.
Arvin shuddered as the vision ended.
"I know how the trap works," he told Pakal. "The doorway is the mouth. The trap is inside." He described what he'd just seen. "I have a rope that might be able to entangle those tentacles long enough for us to get through."
Pakal shook his head. "I have a better idea. Even tentacles cannot grasp the wind." He glanced up
at Arvin. "With your permission, I will turn your body to air. When the mouth opens, float through it. I will make you solid again once we are safely inside."
Arvin hesitated. "What about my pack?" he asked. "And the things inside it?"