If so, there was little Arvin could do about it now. He teetered on the circular slab of stone. The heat grew steadily more intense. The ever-present damp had long since evaporated from his clothes. His skin felt hot and dry. He could use the couatl feather to fly above the crater, but if he did-if his feet weren't touching it when it at last opened-would he lose his chance to enter Smaragd?
If indeed that door did lead to Smaragd. What if it opened onto another plane-the Elemental Plane of Fire, for example?
Or even just the interior of a volcano, which would just as certainly kill him.
The circle of stone tilted, throwing Arvin to his knees. He started to slide toward the lava, then found a toehold and handhold and scrambled back
up the tilting surface, balancing it once more, but not for long. The crack of lava was several paces wide, steadily closing in on the spot where he huddled.
A flapping sound, high overhead, made Arvin look up. He saw a winged serpent silhouetted against the sky. Ts'ikil-or Sibyl? It flew awkwardly, with sudden lurches, perhaps due to a broken wing.
As it wheeled above the crater, Arvin recognized it as Sibyl. The abomination's black wings were tattered and her body was crisscrossed with deep lash marks and burns from her battle with the couatl, but her face was alight with a wicked grin as she suddenly dived toward the spot where Arvin lay.
Arvin tried to wrestle his backpack off, hoping to get at the net it contained. At the very least, he could ensure Sibyl's death before he himself died. It was impossible to hold the Circled Serpent, cling to the rock and reach his pack all at the same time. Something had to go. The Circled Serpent, he decided, hurling it beyond the line of lava, but even as he wrenched his backpack in front of him and tore the flap open, Sibyl struck the edge of the circle of stone. It flipped upside down like a pot lid, spilling Arvin not into lava but into a black nothingness. He fell, still clinging to his pack, and saw Sibyl dive past him. Above them both was a circle of bright, flaming red in an otherwise purple and brooding sky. Below was thick jungle.
A long way below. Far enough for the fall to kill him.
Arvin fumbled desperately inside his pack, searching for the couatl feather, as he fell toward the trees below.
Karrell awoke with a scream. For several moments, she struggled to escape from the dream that clung
to her like a heavy shroud, blocking all sensation of the waking world. She had been swimming in a bowl of venom, trying desperately to keep her head above water to prevent the deadly poison from slipping past her lips. The pool, at the same time, was an acid that ate into her flesh. It was gnawing a hole through her stomach, which pulsed as her children struggled to free themselves. If they did break free, however, they would die. Their first breath would be a lungful of liquid poison.
Arvin was in her dream as well. He stood at the side of the pool, holding a silver rope in his hands. He twisted it, tying it into a loop, then threw it. Karrell caught it and looped it around her wrist, but it coiled around her tooth instead. Arvin yanked the silver rope he held, forcing her mouth open. The venom rushed in, gagging and drowning her, and…
With a whispered prayer to Ubtao, Karrell shoved the dream memories aside. She sat up, expecting to find the marilith hovering over her. Instead the demon's attention was fixed upon the sky. It was difficult to see details through the thick screen of jungle, but something was happening up there, almost directly above them. The dark purple clouds swirled in a spiral around a circle that glowed a dull red.
"What's-" Karrell gasped as a contraction twisted her gut, "happening?" she managed to finish at last.
The demon gave no answer. Fortunately, it hadn't noticed her flinch. It watched, transfixed, as a bulge appeared below the circle of red in the sky. The bulge lengthened like dripping sap, then fell toward the jungle below in a bright red, bubbling streak. An explosive hiss of steam rose from the jungle as it struck.
Whatever was happening, Karrell was thankful for the distraction. After their earlier discussion,
she'd pretended to take the demon's advice. She'd closed her eyes, feigning sleep, hoping that the demon would attribute any grimaces she made to nightmares and not to a pain that it didn't feel. Exhausted, Karrell had actually fallen into a restless slumber, but when she was awake she was unable to hide the agony that cramped her stomach every few moments. Her face, she was certain, was as pale as parchment. Sweat trickled onto her lips, leaving the faint taste of acid on them.
When the demon turned to her, Karrell glanced up at the sky, redirecting its attention there. "Are we in danger?" she asked, hoping the demon would interpret her look of discomfort as fear.
"Stay here," was the demon's only answer. It gestured, and half a dozen dretches appeared. "Watch her," it instructed them. "See that she doesn't leave this spot. Use your magical fear to herd her back here, but do not harm her."
The dretches nodded their bulbous heads and grunted. One or two of them fixed beady eyes on Karrell and smiled, revealing teeth like broken needles.
The marilith disappeared.
Karrell tried to stand, but a wave of agony forced her back to her knees. She could feel an intense pressure deep in her pelvis; her children, straining to be born.
"Ubtao," she panted. "Not in this place. Not now. Not here."
The layers of rotted vegetation beneath her hands and knees quivered as she spoke her god's name, turning to slime. Acid ate into her palms. Staggering upright, she wiped them on a nearby tree. The bark sprouted needles that tore her skin. The ground underfoot continued to liquefy, and Karrell sank into putrid water past her knees before her feet finally settled on something solid.
The dretches giggled-a loathsome, gurgling sound as vile as the bubbles rising through the putrid water in which they stood. The slimy stuff lapped at their bulging bellies, but they didn't seem to mind it. One of them bent over and slurped some into its mouth.
When her contraction ended, Karrell stared, panting, at the dretches. They stood in a circle around her, scratching their bellies, sniffing. They were stupid creatures-her success in avoiding them after her escape had already proved that-but they had powerful magic at their command. She'd seen how they'd driven the souls of the faithful.
She could hear more explosions in the jungle as yet more streaks of red fell from the sky. The circle of red in the clouds was brightening, bathing the clouds around it in an eerie glow. It was, she was certain, a gate-though why it was opening was anyone's guess. If it connected with the Prime Material Plane, however, she might at last be able to summon a creature that could help her.
"Ubtao, hear me," she said. "Send me allies in my time of need." She trailed a hand in the murky water and pictured the animals she hoped to summon. Small and swift, with silver scales.
She felt her awareness shift. It flew up through the jungle canopy into the sky. Toward the circle in the clouds and through it. Somewhere in the world beyond, it plunged into a river that flowed through the jungle, and…
Tiny motes of silver burst from Karrell's fingertips, rapidly expanding into full-sized fish. A school of fish, blunt-faced and silver, with gaping mouths filled with teeth jagged as broken glass soon swarmed toward the dretches and bit before the demons even had time to blink. By the time Karrell lifted her dripping hand from the water, the pool in
which they stood had turned from murky green to bright red.
The dretches wailed, gurgled, swatted at the water that boiled around their legs and bellies, but to little effect. One of them went down immediately, yanked sideways by its own entrails. Another thrust a finger into the water, loosing a cloud of noxious vapors into it, but though one or two of the piranha floated to the surface, belly up, the rest continued their savage attack. Another dretch went down screaming, then a third.