Arvin frowned, not understanding Zelia’s apparent lack of concern. “Humans aren’t the only ones who drink from the public fountains,” he told her. “Not all yuan-ti live in mansions with private wells. Some are sure to quench their thirst at the fountains, and though they may be immune to poison, they can still die of plague-and spread it to others. Unless…” He paused, as a thought suddenly occurred to him. Did Zelia know something that he didn’t? Did yuan-ti have a natural immunity to plague, as well as poison?
Even if they did, a city with ninety-five percent of its population ill or dying wouldn’t serve their interests.
When Arvin reminded her of this fact, Zelia gave him a cold smile. “I am well aware of the role humans play in Hlondeth,” she told him. “And I agree. The cultists must be stopped.”
Arvin nodded, relieved. It was out of his hands. He could step back and let Zelia-and the powerful people who backed her-deal with the crisis from here on in.
“I suppose it will be a simple matter of stationing militia at every public drinking fountain and arresting the cultists as they appear,” he said, thinking out loud. “Or are you going to try to capture them before they make their move?”
“Capturing them will only solve part of the problem,” Zelia said. “The cultists are just one playing piece in a much larger game. I still need to find out who is behind them.”
Arvin frowned. “If you stop them, will it matter?”
“Someone wants to upset the balance of power,” Zelia said. “My job is to discover who. Find that out-and you’ll earn your freedom. And all that I promised you earlier.”
Arvin nodded. He’d expected her to say that. Why remove the mind seed when it was such an effective tool? “I have an idea that might help me to infiltrate the Pox-once we find them,” he told her. “The cultist who died today in my warehouse used magic to alter his appearance, but I got a good look at his face after he dropped the spell. If I described him to you, perhaps you could use your psionics to alter my appearance. I could pass myself off as him and-”
“You would never be able to carry it off,” Zelia said. “One false gesture or word, and the Pox would use their magic to see you as you truly are. You will have to present yourself as you are-or rather, as how they want to see you: someone who survived their draught of plague and now wants to join their cult.”
Arvin grimaced. He’d been afraid she’d say that. “Won’t they also have magic that will allow them to see through my lies?” he asked, thinking back to the spells the clerics at the orphanage had used.
“If you choose your words carefully, you won’t have to lie,” Zelia told him. “A cleverly worded half-truth-plus a little charm-will carry you a long way.”
Arvin nodded. That much, at least, was true. “Have you been able to locate the chamber I told you about?”
“I think so,” Zelia told him. “Or at least, I’ve located a chamber in the sewers that matches the description you gave.”
Arvin wet his lips nervously. Finally he would be able to find out whether Naulg was alive-or dead. “Did you see my friend there, or… his body?”
“The chamber was empty. But the cultists may return to it at Middark, the time they seem to prefer for their sacrifices.”
Arvin nodded. “Where is it?”
Zelia ignored his question. “Until then, you will wait here with me. As Middark approaches, I will begin observing the chamber. As soon as I see any activity, you can set out.”
Arvin chafed, wishing he could just get this over with-but he could see that Zelia wasn’t going to tell him where the chamber was until she was good and ready. In the meantime, he needed to prepare. He hadn’t exactly gone to the Solarium ready for an excursion into the sewers. If he was going to confront the Pox, he’d need to equip himself.
“There’re some items I’ll need,” he told Zelia. “If I promise to meet you back here at Sunset, can I go and get them?”
Zelia stared at him for several long moments, hissing softly to herself. Silver flashed in her eyes as they caught the sun. “Go,” she told him, unlocking the gate. “Purchase your potions, but don’t be late.”
Arvin was halfway down the ramp before what she’d just said sank in.
He hadn’t told her he intended to buy potions…
Not out loud, anyway.
23 Kythorn, Sunset
Arvin sat cross-legged in the rooftop garden, watching Zelia exercise. She was naked, with her hair bound in a loose knot at the back of her neck, but she didn’t seem to mind him watching her; yuan-ti didn’t have the same concept of modesty that humans did. He’d never seen anything quite like the convolutions she was putting her body through-a series of poses that bent her torso, arms, and legs into positions he was certain no human could ever achieve. She held each pose for several moments, muscles quivering from the strain and sweat beading at her temples, then suddenly her body flowed into the next position in one smooth and supple motion. One moment her ankles were wrapped around her neck tighter than a knot as she balanced on her palms, seemingly sitting in midair, the next she was in a handstand, her body straight as an arrow. Down she swept to hover at the horizontal a palm’s width above the ground, balancing her rigid body on her hands, then up went her head and feet to meet in an arch over her back.
Arvin expected her to be exhausted when she finished, but instead she seemed invigorated. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed a healthy pink, enhanced by the light of the setting sun.
“Those exercises,” Arvin said. “They remind me of an acrobat I saw once-though he was nowhere near as graceful.”
“They’re called asanas,” Zelia answered.
“Do you do them every day?”
“At Sunset, without fail,” Zelia said, slipping on her dress. “They focus the mind.”
“My mother meditated each morning at sunrise,” Arvin said. “These-asanas-are for the same purpose, aren’t they? To aid your psionic powers?”
“They restore my ability to manifest my powers,” Zelia answered, “much like a cleric praying or a wizard reading his spellbooks.”
“I see,” Arvin said. During her routine, Zelia had gone through a lot of different poses. She must have had quite a number of psionic powers at her disposal. If he wanted to learn how to master his psionics-to do more than merely charm and distract people-Zelia would be an invaluable instructor. “You said you’d teach me to use my talent,” he reminded her. “Do you think you could teach me one of those asanas?”
Zelia untied the thong that had held back her hair and shook out her long red tresses. “It takes years of practice to learn to do them properly,” she answered. “You need to master not only the movements of the asana itself, but also the mental focus that goes with each pose. You might be able to crudely mimic one of the simpler asanas, but-”
“Will you teach me a simple one, then?” Arvin asked. He rubbed his temples. It hadn’t been his imagination, earlier; his head was throbbing. He really could feel the mind seed putting in roots. “At the very least, it’ll give me something to… distract me.”
Zelia stared back at him, and for a moment Arvin wondered if she was going to dismiss his request as ridiculous and impossible. Then her lips twitched into a smile. “Why not?” she said at last. “It might prove amusing. An interesting test of your potential. I’ll teach you the bhujanga asana. Take off your clothes.”
Arvin blushed. “It that absolutely necessary?”
Zelia’s eyes narrowed. “Do you want to learn-or are you wasting my time?”
“I want to learn,” Arvin hurriedly assured her. “But my bracelet and amulet stay on.”
Zelia raised an eyebrow. “Everyone draws the line somewhere,” she said. “But your glove must come off.”