“What will you do, once we reach the fort?” Karrell asked.
Arvin touched his forehead. “Contact the baron, as soon as I’m able. Find out how Glisena is doing. Hopefully, the clerics have been able to… purge… what’s inside her.”
Karrell gave him a startled look. “They will kill her child?”
“It’s no child,” Arvin said. There hadn’t been time, until now, to tell Karrell everything he’d learned. When he did, her face paled.
“Helm’s clerics will deal with the demon,” Arvin reassured her. “Lord Foesmasher seemed confident that they could. And once they have, we won’t have to worry about Naneth looking over our shoulders anymore. In fact, we can turn her scrying to our advantage. If we let it “slip’ that Glisena’s womb is empty, Naneth will realize her scheme has failed. Glisena will be safe from her.”
And, Arvin added silently, he would be able to collect his reward. The baron would no doubt be pleased with his work; Arvin had done everything he’d promised, and more. Not only had he located Glisena, he’d provided vital information that would help the clerics save her. The baron’s emotions ran high when it came to his daughter. No doubt he would be as generous with those who had saved her as he was merciless against those who threatened her.
He realized that Karrell hadn’t answered. She walked in silence, one arm wrapped protectively across her stomach. Arvin supposed it only natural; what had been done to Glisena would hit a woman harder.
“I too have been thinking about what we might say the next time Naneth scries on us,” Karrell said at last. “I think it would be a mistake to reveal that Glisena is no longer pregnant. If we choose our words carefully—make her think that Glisena is in .a location of our choosing—we can lure Naneth to us.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked. Naneth was a powerful sorcerer—he wasn’t keen on facing her spells a second time.
“I must find Sibyl and recover the Circled Serpent,” Karrell said. “Naneth is the one thread that will lead me through the maze. I must follow it,” She leveled a challenging look at Arvin. “If, however, you no longer wish to help me….”
Arvin stared at the approaching wagon, wishing he could just board it, return to Ormpetarr, and collect his reward. Then he thought of what Sibyl’s minions had done to Naulg and to Glisena’s unborn child. He met Karrell’s eye. “You kept your end of the bargain,” he told her. “I’ll keep mine. Whatever I can do to thwart Sibyl, I will.”
Karrell gave him a long look. “If we find that Sibyl is in Hlondeth, will you return there with me?”
“Hlondeth isn’t a healthy place for me to be,” Arvin said. He clenched his left hand, remembering. By now, the Guild would be wondering where he’d gone… and asking questions—questions that might lead them to a realization that he’d been feeding Tanju information on their activities over the past six months. Arvin had been forced to trade his mentor something, in return for the lessons in psionics. If the Guild found that out, they’d cut out Arvin’s tongue. “I have enemies there.”
“You have enemies here,” Karrell said softly. “Zelia.”
“True,” Arvin agreed. Then he smiled. “And Zelia, according to the baron, is in Ormpetarr—which makes my decision easier.”
He expected Karrell to smile at his faint attempt at humor, or to ask what his decision was, but her face had a distant look, as if she were lost in thought.
“The centaur Windswift,” she said abruptly. “You addressed him as Zelia. Was he one of her seeds?”
Arvin’s jaw clenched. “He was. Zelia must have created him to spy on Chondath.”
“Zelia is an agent of Hlondeth?” Karrell asked. Arvin nodded.
“She serves House Extaminos?”
“Yes,” Arvin answered. “Why?”
Karrell countered with a question of her own. “Why did she try to seed you?”
Arvin gave a bitter laugh. “You’ll appreciate the irony, I’m sure. Zelia hoped to use me to infiltrate The Pox—the clerics who were allied with Sibyl during her first attempt at Hlondeth’s throne. Zelia needed a human who had….” His voice faltered as he remembered the terrible transformation Naulg had undergone—and the final kindness Arvin had been forced to pay him. “Who’d had the misfortune of falling into their hands. They wouldn’t have accepted anyone else into their ranks.”
Arvin was thankful that Karrell didn’t ask him to elaborate.
“What other psionic powers does Zelia have?” she asked.
Arvin gave her a sharp look. “Don’t even think about it,” he snapped. “Zelia’s dangerous. And untrustworthy. She’s as slippery as a—” He realized what he was saying, and stopped himself just in time.
Karrell’s eyes narrowed. She yanked her hand out of his. “As what? A serpent?”
Arvin’s face flushed. That was exactly what he’d been about to say.
The giant, seeing that they had stopped walking, halted. “Is something wrong?” he rumbled. Tanglemane lifted his head slightly; his face looked pale.
“It’s nothing,” Arvin said. He pointed at the wagon, only a few hundred paces from them now. Behind the driver sat two soldiers and a third man, identifiable as a cleric of Helm by his eye-emblazoned breastplate and deep red cloak. “Get Tanglemane to the wagon. We’ll follow in a moment.”
The giant shrugged then continued with heavy footsteps toward the wagon. It pulled to a halt as he drew near it, and the cleric hopped out. The giant lowered Tanglemane to the ground. The cleric crouched beside him and started removing the centaur’s crude wound binding.
Arvin turned back to Karrell. “Zelia’s dangerous,” he repeated. “Perhaps as dangerous as Sibyl herself.”
“And she is Sibyl’s enemy. And she has mind magic beyond what you possess. Magic that may force Naneth to tell us where Sibyl is.”
“True,” Arvin agreed, bristling. “But she’s the last person I’d ever ask for help from. As soon as she found out I’m alive, she’d kill me. Quick as spit. It’s bad enough that Windswift knows what I look like. The next time he reports to Zelia….” He shook his head, amazed at the complicated net he’d managed to weave around himself, hoping he could keep it from drawing any tighter.
“I was not suggesting that you speak with Zelia,” Karrell said. She raised her right hand and nodded at the ring on her finger. “And she will not learn that you are alive. Not from me.”
Arvin shook a finger at her. “Don’t do it. Gods only know what Zelia will do to you. She’s dangerous,” he repeated again, grasping at straws. “She’s—”
“—yuan-ti,” Karrell said. “As am I.” She glared at him. “And do not presume to give me orders. I am not human, and you are not my….” She paused, searching for the word. “Not my husband. Even if you did quicken my eggs.” Tossing her hair angrily, she turned her back.
Arvin’s mouth gaped open. “Your what?”
She touched her stomach. “My eggs,” she repeated softly.
Arvin stared at Karrell. “You’re pregnant?” he asked in a strained whisper. “But it’s only been”—he did a quick tally in his head—”two days—no, three—since we first….” He shook his head. “How could you possibly know so soon?”
“My scales,” she said. “They are shedding out of season—it is one of the early signs.” She touched a hand to her belly. “And the way I… feel. I know.”
Arvin was stunned. He didn’t know what to say. What to think. If Karrell was right, he was a father. Or soon would be. The thought terrified him; he knew nothing about children. “How long until….” He swallowed hard, and rubbed his forehead. His wound was bothering him again.
Beside Arvin, someone cleared his throat hesitantly—the cleric. He had completed his healing; Tanglemane was back on his feet, his color restored. The cleric had walked over to where Arvin stood without Arvin even noticing.