Karrell frowned. “No. The ones I am speaking of worship a different deity: Talos, god of storms and destruction. They, too, have formed an alliance with Sibyl. At her bidding, they tried to steal the Circled Serpent after Dmetrio Extaminos discovered it inside the ancient tower.”
Suddenly, Arvin realized what she was referring to. Last summer, a gang of rogues had attacked the workers who were restoring the Scaled Tower, killing the project’s yuan-ti overseer. The attack had been the talk of Hlondeth’s thieves’ guild for tendays; the rogues had not belonged to the Guild, and retribution was called for. The theft had taken place while Arvin was busy battling The Pox, and so he had not paid it much attention. Even when he’d met Tanju, and the militiaman accompanying him had let slip that Tanju was tracking someone who had committed a theft, someone called the “stormlord,” Arvin hadn’t put the pieces together. But now he understood. And he had bad news for Karrell. According to Tanju, the “rogues” had succeeded in getting what they came for.
“You’re too late,” he told Karrell. “Sibyl already has the Circled Serpent.” Quickly, he recounted for her the events of last summer, and what he’d overheard.
Karrell’s face paled. After a long moment of strained silence, she shook her head fiercely. “That is not possible,” she said. “The workers I questioned said that Dmetrio Extaminos still had the artifact they had dug up in his possession. They even described the container it was in: a round wooden box, coated with lead to prevent magic from revealing the contents.”
“Perhaps they lied,” Arvin suggested.
“That would not have been possible.”
“You charmed them,” Arvin concluded. He thought a moment. “The people I spoke with were equally certain that the followers of Talos did manage to steal whatever had been found in the tower. Maybe they only got half of it.”
“Yes. That must be what happened.” She twisted the ring on her finger, a worried look on her face. “Do you know where Sibyl is now?”
Arvin shook his head. “If I did, I would have tried to avenge my friend’s death. I’ve been looking for her for the past six months, but even the Guild can’t find her.”
“It is more vital now than ever that I recover the second half of the Circled Serpent,” Karrell said. “The half Dmetrio still has.”
“Do you think he knows what it is?” Arvin asked. “Perhaps if we told him what was at stake….” Remembering who he was talking about, Arvin shook his head. Dmetrio Extaminos was arrogant, cruel, and callous. He cared nothing for Glisena and even less for his own child. He wasn’t the sort to be moved by the fate of hundreds of thousands of strangers.
“What’s next?” Arvin asked. “Are you going to try to speak to Dmetrio a second time?”
“I have already questioned his house slaves,” Karrell answered. “None of them have seen the Circled Serpent. Nor have they noticed a lead-coated box among the household goods they have been packing. I am starting to suspect that he did not bring the Circled Serpent with him, that he left it behind, in Hlondeth.”
“Will you return there?” Arvin asked, starting to miss her already.
Karrell sat in silence for several moments. “Perhaps.” Then she straightened, a look of determination in her eye. “No. I will search for Sibyl, instead. Finding her should prove easier than trying to locate a small box lined with lead.”
Arvin leaned forward. “I can help you with your search,” he said. “But I’ll need your help in return. I’ve promised the baron that I’ll find his daughter. She’s somewhere in a forest called the Chondalwood. She can’t be located using magic; she’s shielded against all forms of detection. But you have a spell that might be able to help—the one that allowed you to communicate with the naga. If you used it to question the animals of the forest, we might find one who has seen Glisena. If we can find her, we stand a good chance of also locating Naneth; the midwife will certainly be on hand for the baby’s birth. And once we have Naneth….”
“We can force her to tell us where Sibyl is,” Karrell said.
“Then I’ll have my revenge. And you’ll have a chance to recover the Circled Serpent. Or half of it, anyway.” He extended a hand. “What do you say? Partners?”
Karrell stared into his eyes for several heartbeats, ignoring his hand. Then she leaned forward and kissed him—passionately. Her fingers twined in his hair; her lips pressed against his. Excitement coursed through his body with a fire so fierce it left him trembling. Karrell was everything he’d dreamed of, everything he’d ever hoped to find in a woman. Her kiss left him as dizzy as the osssra smoke—and it showed no sign of ending. She pulled him toward her and he tumbled, landing on top of her on the bed. His hands brushed against her waist, her breasts—then found their way inside her dress. Still kissing her fiercely, he tried to stroke her breast, but for some strange reason the dress had gotten in the way. Its fabric felt rough under his fingertips.
No, that wasn’t the dress. It was her breast. That wasn’t skin his fingertips were caressing, but… Scales?
Her charm spell—which only now did he realize she’d been successful in casting—abruptly ended. He broke off the kiss, jerking his hand out of her dress. Suddenly, everything made sense. Her strange comments, her taking offense when he’d tried to warn her about the yuan-ti of House Extaminos.
Karrell was—
She sat up. “You have just realized that I am half yuan-ti,” she said_ Her expression was a strange mixture of hurt and defiance.
Arvin nodded, mute. “That’s not why—” he stammered. “It’s just….” Conflicting emotions surged through him. He wanted Karrell, he ached for her, even without the benefit of her charm spell—but now she reminded him of Zelia.
Her cheeks flushed. With a quick, angry motion she jerked at her dress, straightening it. “I am used to it,” she snapped. “It is just one of the barriers in the maze of life—a barrier that I must overcome, if I am to find my true path. But it is hard. People are always mistaking me for human. How do you think it feels, to hear their comments about how “cold-hearted’ and evil the yuan-ti are, knowing that it is you they are talking about? The yuan-ti, also, are unkind. To them I look too human to ever be considered….” She glanced away.
“Beautiful?” Arvin asked. “Desirable?” He reached out with a hand and lifted her chin. “You are. Believe me.” He sighed. “It’s just that, for a moment, you reminded me of someone. Another yuan-ti woman—a psion. She used her psionics to plant a seed in my head. If it hadn’t been removed, it would have stripped my mind from my body and left me an empty husk for her to fill with a copy of herself. She used me.”
Karrell’s eyes softened. “The woman at Riverboat Landing?”
Arvin nodded.
“Not all yuan-ti are so cruel.”
“I realize that,” Arvin said. “And now that I look at you—really look at you—I see that you’re not like Zelia at all. Not one bit.”
He leaned forward—slowly—and kissed her. Karrell didn’t resist. Instead, at first hesitantly, she kissed him back.
Arvin broke off the kiss. “How do you say it?” he asked. “‘Kiss’—in your language.”
“Tsu.”
Arvin smiled. The word puckered Karrell’s lips beautifully as she spoke it. “And “beautiful’? How do you say that?”
“Kiichpan.”
“‘Woman?’”
She gave a slight frown, obviously wondering what he was up to. “Chu al.”
Arvin returned it with a frank stare. “Keech-pan choo-hal,” he said haltingly. “May I be your yctakun?”
She tossed her hair, mischief dancing in her dark eyes. Then she slapped him—lightly—across the cheek. “You charmed me,” she said in an accusing voice.
Arvin chuckled. “And you charmed me.” He rubbed his cheek, pretending the slap had stung the cut on his face, and saw her eyes soften in apology. “But I’m not under your spell anymore. Not that one, anyway.”