Karrell staggered out of the pool, gagging on the fumes from the dretch's spell. A lash of fear struck her as one of the remaining dretches cast a spell at her, but it only hastened her onward. She had to stop a moment later, when another contraction struck, but when she continued, walking unsteadily, there were no sounds of pursuit. The allies she had summoned from her homeland had done their work.
She staggered on and a few moments later came to the spot where the first drip from the sky had landed. It had punched a hole through the trees, smashing them aside and scorching its way down through leaves and vines as it fell. It lay in a crackling red heap, lumpy and soft as bread dough, its edges a crusty black. Steam hissed from the jungle all around it, and even from a distance of several paces, Karrell could feel its intense heat.
Lava? What was lava doing dripping from a gate in the sky?
She glanced up at the circle of red; it was bright enough that it hurt to look at it. She had a better idea of who might have opened it-someone important enough for the marilith to have abandoned Karrell to the dubious guardianship of its dretches.
The circle in the sky suddenly flipped open, revealing a clear patch of starry sky. Two shapes tumbled
through: a black, winged serpent with four arms, and a human, arms and legs flailing as he fell. "Arvin!" Ka rrell cried, certain it was lie.
He crashed into the jungle, not far from the spot where she stood. Karrell winced and felt a pang deep inside. She whispered Ubtao's name, praying that Arvin had survived. If she could reach him, use her healing magic…
Another contraction gripped her, forcing her to her knees.
When it was done, she glanced up. The winged serpent flew in an uneven spiral. It lurched sideways every few wingbeats like a drunken man. It was close enough that Karrell could see who it was.
Sibyl. Wounded or unwell, but there. In Smaragd.
Karrell felt a cold fear wash through her. Her head spun and she thought she was going to be sick. Sibyl had achieved her goal. She had found a way into Smaragd. Unless something was doneimmediately-she would free Sseth and become his avatar. Karrell's mother's people-the humans of the Chultan Peninsula-would be crushed like mice in a serpent's coils. For unlike the Time of Troubles, Ubtao would not also walk the world in avatar form. There would be no one to battle Sibyl, save the K'aaxlaat and any other mortals brave and foolish enough to stand with them. Even these an avatar would sweep aside.
Another contraction gripped her, bringing tears to her eyes. She clung to the tree next to her, but its bark suddenly became spongy and gave way. She tried to climb to her feet but could not. She simply didn't have the strength to rise.
"Ubtao," she whispered. "Help me, not for my sake, or even for…" she clutched her stomach as another contraction wrenched at it. Something tore between her legs; she felt warm blood running down them.
"For my children," she gasped,"but for all my people. Lend me… your power. Send me the weapons… I need… to stop…"
The marilith's voice boomed out over the jungle. "Sibyl!" it cried. "This way! Sseth lies here!"
Another wave of pain forced Karrell's eyes shut. As they closed, one of the trees adjacent to the crackling lump of lava burst into flame. From behind closed eyelids, she could see the flicker of the flames, but by then the pain inside her was too great for her to care. She groaned, panted, then groaned again, waiting for her children to be born.
Arvin, barely conscious, lay in a tangle of vines and broken branches. He had found the couatl feather at the last moment, slowing his fall just enough to avoid being killed-but not enough to avoid being injured. He was dimly aware that one leg was twisted uncomfortably beneath him, that his face and arms were scratched and bleeding, that there was more blood in his mouth and a ringing in his ears, but he couldn't summon up enough energy to care about it.
Something sticky dripped onto his face from a broken branch above his head, something that gummed his nostrils and lips and tasted faintly of acid. The air he breathed had a sickly sweet odor, like rotting fruit. The stench was worse than the sewers of Hlondeth.
He didn't care.
A swarm of tiny flies buzzed around him, landing and walking with sticky feet through the smears of blood and sap that covered his face, then rising again, buzzing around his ears and into his nostrils.
He didn't care.
Somewhere nearby, someone shouted Sibyl's name, a booming, demonic voice that brought back terrible memories.
His eyes flickered open.
He sat up, noticed that the couatl feather was still in his hand. As he stood, a streak of fire raced through the jungle toward him. He gasped, tried to activate the feather's magic, but before he could rise into the air the fire reached him. At the last moment it zigzagged around him, setting a tree a few paces away on fire, then continued on its way. He watched it go, his mouth hanging open in surprise. It was no ordinary fire, but one that scribed a neat line through the jungle, igniting only those trees and bushes in its path-magical flame that burned the vegetation it fed on to ash then continued to burn in empty air.
Arvin touched a hand to the flame. It was like touching an ill lusion: he felt no heat, no pain,
He shook his head, and blinked. Was he dreaming? Was it another of the nightmares Dendar had failed to consume?
"Sibyl!" the voice cried again-more strident. "This way!"
Glancing up, Arvin saw the gate the Circled Serpent had opened-a circle of bubbling lava, framing a patch of clean, starry sky.
It was no dream. He'd done it. He'd entered Smaragd.
A shape swept by overhead. Dark wings against a purple sky.
So had Sibyl.
A second line of fire rushed through the forest, crisscrossing the first. A heartbeat later, Sibyl swept past. She seemed to be following it. Craning his neck, Arvin watched as she flew away with ragged wing- beats, wheeling and twisting in the sky, pursuing what must have been a twisting, convoluted path.
"Sibyl!" the voice cried again from somewhere to his right. "Over here! Under the swords!"
The cry was followed by a whirring, crashing sound. It sounded as though the jungle was being hacked to pieces, as well as set on fire.
There was no time to wonder what was happening, or why. Arvin struggled to his feet and discovered he'd been lying on his backpack. He picked it up. The net was still inside, and he thanked Tymora for that. And for breaking his fall without breaking his bones. "Nine-"
Halfway to his crystal, his hand paused as the realization finally sank home. He was in Smaragd.
Mentally reaching for his lapis lazuli instead. he pictured Karrell's face. It came to him immediately. Her eyes were screwed shut, her mouth open and gasping. A grimace of pain etched deep lines into her cheeks and forehead. Her hair hung around her face in a disheveled mess. As he watched, she gagged and was nearly sick.
It didn't matter. Joy surged through him, fierce as the fire that bathed him in its glowing light. Karrell was alive!
Karrrel, he sent. It's Arvin. I'm in Smaragd. Tell me where you are.
Karrell's eyes opened briefly. Then she screamed. And panted. Grimaced. Then spoke in a ragged voice. Ubtao's fire, she gasped. Follow…
Of course! The fire. Slinging his pack over one shoulder, Arvin held out the feather. He rose into the air, then flew along the path the fire had burned through the forest. Wary of Sibyl spotting him, he flew within the flame. It blurred his vision and filled his ears with a roaring crackle. More than once, he came to places where the path doubled back across itself. He chose a direction at random the first three times, then realized he was lost in a maze. He paused,
hovering in the air, uncertain which way to go. He didn't have much time. If he was to rescue Karrell and stop Sibyl from freeing Sseth, he had to move quickly, to decide quickly.