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“Zelia breaks alliances as quickly as she makes them,” Arvin countered. “Still, go on. You haven’t explained why you were impersonating Glisena.”

“To lure Naneth to me,” Karrell said. “Zelia gave me the powder, and suggested I play the part of Glisena. She said she would contact Naneth and promise to deliver ‘Glisena’ to her—and ensure that Naneth teleported me to the Extaminos palace in Hlondeth. There, House Extaminos’s spellcasters would subdue Naneth. And I would use a second pinch of the powder to change my appearance to match Naneth’s. Then I would infiltrate the temple where Sibyl lairs, and—”

“Did Zelia give you a second pinch of powder?” Arvin asked.

“No.”

“You trusted her? After what she did to me?” Karrell winced. “I had to take the chance. The lives of thousands of people—”

“What about this person?” Arvin asked, thumping a hand against his chest. It felt hollow. “You were going to leave without even saying good-bye.”

“There was no time,” Karrell said, her dark eyes flashing. “And I would have returned. Once I had secured the Circled Serpent and carried it to a place of safety, I would have come back to you.”

“If you’d lived,” Arvin said bitterly. “And if you didn’t, I’d never have known what had happened to you.”

She lifted a hand to his face. “You would have contacted me,” she said. Her fingers lightly touched the scab on his forehead. “With your stone. I would have told you, then, where I was.”

Arvin turned away from her touch.

“Do you want the truth?” she asked.

Arvin glanced reluctantly back at her.

“I feared that you would try to talk me out of it,” she said. She sighed. “And that you would succeed. I could not run that risk. Too much is at stake.”

Arvin nodded. He stared at Helm’s gauntlet for several long moments then turned to Karrell. “Zelia played you for a fool,” he told her. “When she told you that you would be the one to infiltrate Sibyl’s lair, she was lying.”

Karrell tossed her head. “Of course you would say that.”

“I’m not just saying that,” Arvin told her. “I know that. I spied on Zelia, earlier tonight. Probably just after you met with her. When she was talking to Naneth.”

“And?” Karrell prompted.

“Zelia planted a mind seed in her.”

Karrell absorbed this news without reacting. “I thought Zelia might do that,” she said evenly. “And I knew it would anger you, if you found out. What I do not understand is why you feel any sympathy for the midwife. After what she did to the baron’s daughter—”

“I don’t feel sympathy for her,” Arvin said. “Naneth deserves what’s coming to her.” He shuddered, remembering the terrible headaches, the nightmarish dreams, the impulses that were not his own—impulses that had, just before the mind seed was due to blossom, driven him to kill an innocent man. “The point is that Zelia was using you to further her own ends.”

“Zelia no more used me than I used her,” Karrell countered. “I sought her out. I asked her to help me get close to Sibyl, and that is what she did.” She frowned. “Or rather, what she tried to do. Our plan would have worked, if the rogues had not interfered.”

“You’re lucky they did,” Arvin said. “Zelia never would have let you impersonate Naneth.”

Karrell’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you so certain of that?”

“Zelia planted a mind seed in me—remember?” He tapped his temple. “I know how her mind works. Zelia doesn’t delegate—she does the job herself. Or rather, her mind seeds do. She probably would have let Naneth teleport you to the House Extaminos compound—but that’s as far as your part in it would go. She’d let Naneth report to Sibyl that ‘Glisena’ had been delivered—thus ensuring that Naneth remained in Sibyl’s good graces—then would have found a way, somehow, to stall the midwife for seven days, until the mind seed blossomed. You, meanwhile, would become superfluous—and would be disposed of.”

“It is a convincing argument,” Karrell said. “Except for one point. Why would Zelia kill me? Why throw away a valuable ally?”

“She wouldn’t have thrown you away,” Arvin said grimly. “She’d have seeded you.”

“Ah.” Karrell remained silent for several moments. She stared out through the chapel’s stained-glass window. Outside, a light snow had begun to fall. “Thank you for risking your life to save me,” she said at last. “If I had listened to your warnings….” A tear slid down her cheek. She brushed it angrily away. “It is just that so many lives are at stake. So much is resting on my shoulders. If Sibyl finds the second half of the Circled Serpent and uses it to unlock the door, the Night Serpent will escape.”

“And the world will come to an end,” Arvin whispered—believing it, this time. He held out his arms questioningly. Karrell nodded, and he embraced her. They kissed.

Several moments later she broke off the kiss and squared her shoulders. “At least Zelia has given me a starting point,” she said. “The location of Sibyl’s den. That is where the stolen half of the Circled Serpent must be.” She met Arvin’s eye. “I will go there,” she said. “Alone, if need be. Unless….”

Arvin hesitated. Recovering ancient artifacts wasn’t what he’d signed on for, and the people Karrell hoped to save were strangers from a distant land. Whether they lived or died meant nothing to him personally. But the fact that they would die to further Sibyl’s plans did.

“I’ll do it,” he said, taking her hand. “I’ll come with you to Hlondeth, and help you find the Circled Serpent. But before we go anywhere, I need to meditate and restore my energies.” He heard Karrell’s stomach growl and gave her a brief smile. “And it sounds as though you need to eat.” He laid a hand gently on her stomach. “Or as though someone does.”

Karrell lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it then rose to her feet. “I will find a servant,” she said. “Someone who can bring us food.”

Arvin nodded and watched her leave. Then he stripped off his shirt and pants, preparing himself for his meditations. He lowered himself to the floor and assumed the bhujanga asana. The stone tiles were cold against his bare legs and palms; the sensation helped him ignore his aches and pains, helped him focus.

Toward the end of his meditations, he heard hurried footsteps in the corridor outside the chapel. He rose to his feet as a soldier strode into the room. The soldier was one of those who had been standing vigil outside Glisena’s chamber earlier—a man with short black hair and eyes as gray as steel. His eyes were wide and worried.

“The baron demands your presence,” he announced. “At once.”

Arvin looked around. “Where is Karrell? Have you seen her? She—”

“There is no time,” the soldier said, gesturing impatiently. “High Watcher Davinu needs you.”

Arvin nodded as he pulled on his shirt and pants. He told himself not to worry—Karrell was probably eating in the kitchen or somewhere else in the palace. She wouldn’t abandon him a second time. Not after he’d promised to help her. He’d find her later, after the clerics had dealt with the demon.

As he followed the soldier from the room, he wondered what it would be like to listen in on a demon’s thoughts as it was being born.

He shuddered. He was certain the experience wasn’t going to be a pleasant one.

15

As Arvin strode along behind the soldier, he glanced this way and that, looking for Karrell. He didn’t think she’d desert him a second time, especially after he’d at last convinced her how dangerous Zelia was, but a lingering worry still nagged at him.

They passed the practice hall where servants were busy oiling and cleaning the equipment, and several rooms in which still more servants cleaned fireplaces, swept the floors, and dusted furniture. Arvin was amazed to see life at the palace apparently carrying on as if nothing untoward was happening. Only the clerics, it seemed, knew of the life-and-death struggle Glisena was facing.