Vanity's brood

CHAPTER 8

Thank you," Arvin said, taking the wine glass. He pretended not to notice the twin puncture marks on the inside of Juz'la's wrist. "I am indeed thirsty. This is the hottest place I've ever been."

He swept the improvised turban off his head and mopped his brow with it, then pretended to stuff it into his pocket. When he removed his hand, the fabric was inside his sleeve. He transferred the glass to this hand and raised it to his lips. He was tempted to manifest a distraction but was wary of alerting Juz'la with a secondary display. If she'd associated with Zelia in the past, she'd certainly know all about psions. He'd already noted the glance she'd given the crystal that hung at his neck.

The Dmetrio-seed stood slightly behind Juz'la. Arvin glanced in his direction and gave his head the slightest of shakes just enough so Juz'la would notice. As he'd hoped, she glanced behind her to see what the seed was up to. Arvin used the opportunity to turn slightly to the right, to screen what he was doing from the seed, and tip the wine down his sleeve. The fabric inside it soaked it up, and any that bled through to his shirt would blend in with the sweat that already dampened it. He allowed the dregs of the wine to wet his tightly closed lips. As Juz'la turned back toward him, frowning, he wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand. If she saw any wine stains on his sleeve, she'd likely attribute them to that; few people could remember which hand, exactly, had been used in such a casual gesture.

"Unusual taste," he commented.

Juz'la glanced at the burning oil-probably making sure he hadn't poured the wine into it-and smiled. Her eye teeth were slender and curved, like a snake's. Scales covered her hairless scalp, her neck, and her arms, which were quite muscular. She wore a tightfitting dress of a gauzy material that did nothing to hide her breasts or the darker patch of scales at her groin. If she'd been fed the same potion that Naulg had, it had left her mind remarkably unscathed; her eyes shone with a keen intelligence.

A black bracelet encircled her left wrist. Only when it lifted its head did Arvin realize it was a tiny viper. Juz'la lifted it to her lips and kissed it, then whispered an endearment to it as the tiny serpent twined around her fingers.

"Who are you?" Arvin asked, putting just a hint

of suspicion into his voice.

"An old friend of Dmetrio's."

Arvin gave a mental nod. Juz'la was keeping up the pretense that Dmetrio was still himself. The

Dmetrio-seed himself probably hadn't realized that Arvin knew his secret.

"What's your part in this?" Arvin continued. "The same as yours. To help Dmetrio accomplish his goal."

"I see."

Arvin glanced at the seed, who followed their conversation with a passive look on his face. He wondered how much Sibyl's spy had been able to glean from the seed. "Dmetrio" would have all of Zelia's memories up to the time the seed was planted; if Juz'la had been rifling through those, she might know as much about Arvin as Zelia did. Presumably, she'd lifted more recent information from the seed, as well. Arvin had to assume Juz'la knew about the deal he'd struck with Zelia, and about Karrell. She would know that Karrell served Ubtao, a god that was Sseth's enemy, and that Karrell was in Smaragd.

Arvin was suddenly very glad that Sseth's worshipers were no longer in communication with their god.

"Where have you hidden the Circled Serpent?" Juz'la asked.

Arvin was surprised by the blunt demand. It had obviously been intended to startle. Juz'la whispered something to her viper again as she played with it, disguising the words and gestures of a spell. Arvin felt energy flow up his arm: Karrell's ring, blocking what must have been an attempt to listen in on his thoughts.

He manifested a power of his own. If she heard its secondary display, she might think it was because he was blocking her spell. His attempt to charm her, however, was met by a force that pushed his awareness back so hard it made his head ache. Either Juz'la had an amazingly strong mind, or magic shielded her.

"How about this," Arvin said, meeting her gaze with a challenging look. "You show me your half of the Circled Serpent, and I'll show you mine."

If Juz'la was disappointed by her spell's lack of success, she didn't show it. "You've made a mistake," she said. "It's not me you need to bargain with. I'm only Dmetrio's… assistant."

The Dmetrio-seed stepped forward. "I realize you don't trust me, Arvin," he hissed. "You're no more likely to hand me your half than I am to give you mine. Juz'la is our compromise. When the time comes to open the door, she can put the two halves together and wield the key."

Arvin wondered how much the hassaael would have affected him had he drunk it. It was probably safe to express a few lingering doubts. He glanced at Juz'la.

"Why should I trust her? We've only just met."

The Dmetrio-seed smiled-a slight upturn of the lips that was all Zelia. "Talk to her," he suggested. "Get to know her. Then decide." The smile widened. "Take your time. From what Zelia told me, I'm sure Karrell can wait."

Hissing with laughter, the Dmetrio-seed transformed into a serpent and slithered from the chamber. Juz'la turned to Arvin. "Hungry?"

Arvin quickly considered whether Juz'la might drug any food he was served then decided that she probably wouldn't bother after having plied him with hassaael. Besides, he needed to show that he was starting to trust her.

"Famished," he answered. "I haven't eaten since yesterday."

Juz'la smiled. She turned and hissed something; a moment later, one of the mutated halflings-a male-carried in a platter bearing a selection of bright orange and green fruits. The half-lizard had

a stubby tail and a scattering of yellow scales across his face, back, and chest. Four horns that looked as if they had only recently budded rose from his forehead, and his elbows and knees were scabbed over with what looked like fresh scales. He walked erect, however, still more halfling than lizard.

Kneeling, the half-lizard placed the platter on the floor. He started to back out of the chamber on his knees, but Juz'la flicked a hand at him.

"No need for that, Porvar," she said.

The half-lizard hesitated.

Arvin hid his frown just in time. Juz'la's attempt to show him that she treated the slaves well was failing miserably.

"You may go," she hissed.

Porvar turned and scurried away.

Juz'la indicated the platter with a wave of her hand. "Please eat," she said.

Arvin did. The fruit was thirst-quenching and tasted sweeter than any he'd eaten before. He licked the juice from his fingers.

Juz'la watched him in silence. Then, abruptly, she spoke. "Dmetrio told me about the bargain you struck with him," she said. "You want to enter Smaragd to rescue your woman-Karrell."

"Yes," Arvin said.

Juz'la gave him a conspiratorial smile. "You don't need Dmetrio for that."

Arvin played along. "Yes, I do. He has half of the Circled Serpent, remember?"

Juz'la gave him an unblinking stare. "So what? I know where it is."

"Ah," Arvin said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I see how it is, now." He used the gesture to hide his breath, which should have smelled strongly of the drug. His back was against the dish of flaming oil. Pretending its heat made him uncomfortable, he

stepped away from it, putting more distance between himself and Juz'la. "Why betray Dmetrio?" he asked her. "What's in it for you?"

"It's not Dmetrio I'm betraying. It's Zelia "

Despite his years of hiding his reactions from the guild, that one made Arvin blink. "I don't understand."

"Yes, you do. You know who Dmetrio really is-why do you think I left you alone with him so long? I know about your powers. You can listen in on other people's thoughts, sift through their memories." She held up a hand when he started to protest. "You tried to do that with me a few moments ago."

Arvin shook his head. "I merely-"

"Here's what you would have learned, had you been able to probe my mind, as well," Juz'la continued. "I discovered, shortly after my arrival in Ss'yin, that Dmetrio is one of Zelia's seeds, and I decided to take my revenge upon her by thwarting whatever the seed hoped to accomplish."

"Revenge for what?" Arvin asked.

"Years ago, Zelia and I both worked for the Hall of Mental Splendor in Skullport, an organization similar to a rogues' guild that offered spies for hire. We became… friends.

"A few years ago, I was assigned the task of gathering information on one of Skullport's slavers, a man named Ssarm. Around the time of that assignment, Zelia announced that she was leaving Skullport. She told me she was setting out on her own-she'd just learned how to plant mind seeds, and meant to build up an organization similar to the Hall-but there was more to her departure than that.

"The day after Zelia left, Ssarm learned I'd been selling his secrets. To say that he was furious about this would be an understatement. He… punished me."

For several moments, her eyes shone with a fierce hatred. Then she smiled. "I know what you're thinkingeven without my spells. Ssarm is Sibyl's man, but no, I'm not one of the abomination's followers."

For a heartbeat or two, Arvin actually believed her. Juz'la was that good. A strand of truth ran through everything she'd just said, but the end of the braid was frayed in two places.

Back at the portal, Paka I had said that the Dmetrioseed had been in contact with Karrell's organization, the K'aaxlaat. Juz'la must have known this. If all she wanted to do was thwart Sibyl's plans, she could have handed the Dmetrio-seed's half of the Circled Serpent over to them for eventual destruction.

Zelia couldn't have been the one who betrayed Juz'la to Ssarm. Zelia had only heard the slaver's name for the first time a year before, when Arvin told it to her. Juz'la was faking her vengeful anger.

All of the threads came neatly together in a tight knot, however, if Juz'la was working for Sibyl.

Juz'la stared with unblinking eyes at Arvin as he considered his answer. Once again, Arvin was glad that Karrell's ring was on his finger.

"It sounds like we have a mutual enemy," Arvin said at last.

Juz'la smiled like a snake that had just swallowed a mouse. "Zelia's seed was wary of me, at first," she continued, "but she was also arrogant-and just as blinded by vanity as Zelia herself. The seed thought I was fooled by the body it wore. When I cast my domination spell, she never even noticed."

Arvin knew exactly what Juz'la was up to by claiming to have used a spell on the seed: trying to provide an explanation for the effeots of the hassaael. He resisted the urge to touch the crystal at hls neck. Tymora herself must have placed Thessania, the false storm- mistress, in his path. If she hadn't, he'd never have known what hassaael was. He pretended to scowl.

"Don't try that on me," he warned. "My psionics-"

"Are a match for my sorcery, I'm sure," Juz'la said. A flicker of forked tongue appeared between her teeth as she laughed. Then her smile was gone. "Here's what I propose. Go and get your half from wherever you've hidden it. Contact me with a sending, and I'll tell you where the door to Smaragd is. I'll steal Zelia's half and meet you there." She paused, measuring him with her eyes. "Agreed?"

Arvin stared back at her, pretending to consider the offer. According to the Dmetrio-seed's memories, it had been five nights since Juzla had learned where "Dmetrio's" half of the Circled Serpent was- two full days before Arvin and Pakal had snuck into Sibyl's lair and stolen her half of the Circled Serpent. If Sibyl had known where the door was, she would have opened it during the time that both halves were in her possession, but she hadn't known where it was. That was what her dreaming minions had been searching for: the location of the door. They hoped their god would tell them.

It also explained why the Dmetrio-seed hadn't been killed already. Sibyl had probably hoped that Zelia would learn the door's location and relay it to her seed, allowing Juz'la to intercept the information.

There was the slim possibility, however, that Sibyl had learned the door's location in the two days since Arvin and Pakal had stolen hor half of the Circled Serpent, and-an even slimmer possibility-that she had told Juz'la where it was. Before he killed Juz'la, Arvin needed to rulo that out.

"Agreed," Arvin lied. "I'll go and get my half at once."

Juz'la gave a satisfied hiss and stroked the head of her viper "Excellent. I'll summon Hrishniss. She She can fly you back to wherever-"

Arvin didn't give her a chance to finish. Silver flashed from his forehead as he hurled a stream

of ectoplasm at her. It struck exactly where he'd intended: the hand that was stroking the viper. Strands of shimmering ectoplasm wound themselves around both her hand and face, immobilizing and gagging her and preventing her from casting any spells. As he cinched them tight, Arvin manifested a mental shield between them. If Juz'la used her magical fear on him, the shield would deflect at least part of it.

He drew his dagger and spoke over the droning of his secondary display. "If you want to live," he threatened, "you're going to answer some quest-"

Juz'la was no longer standing in front of him. She'd transformed into an orange-and-yellow snake and fallen to the floor. The entangling ectoplasm, loosened, lay in a heap, together with her dress. Juz'la stared out from its folds and hissed something at him in Draconic. Then she flicked her tail.

The ice-white ray that shot from it streaked through Arvin's shield, striking his dagger hand. Frost blossomed on the blade and his hand went numb. He tried to release the dagger but his fingers wouldn't unbend. At least she'd used a spell that wasn't fatal. She needed him alive as much as he did her.

Arvin drew more ectoplasm from the Astral Plane and shaped it into a construct. Still half-formed, it lunged forward, seizing Juz'la by the neck and tail. Her eyes bulged as it squeezed. Her serpent body writhed furiously, but she couldn't slither free.

"Release me," Juz'la hissed.

Deep inside his mind, Arvin heard a groan as his mental shield intercepted whatever spell she had cast at him; it nearly buckled under the strain. With a thought, he directed the construct to clamp its hand over Juz'la's mouth, gagging her.

"Where is the door?" Arvin asked.

He let the shield dissipate and transferred his energy to a different power point. Silver sparkled from his forehead as he slipped inside Juz'la's thoughts. She put up a good fight-getting inside felt like battering down a stone wall with his forehead-but the instant he was in, he had his answer. She didn't know where the door was, and she was, indeed, Sibyl's minion.

Arvin heard a hiss. The construot, neglected by Arvin for those few moments, must have allowed its grip to loosen. Juz'la spat out the words of a spell and touched it with her tail. Electricity flashed through the astral construct in jagged streaks. It exploded into a mist of ectoplasm.

Juz'la, freed, fell to the floor.

Arvin hurled his dagger, but the metal of the hilt guard stuck to his skin, tearing it and throwing his aim off. The dagger missed, burying itself in the heaped-up dress next to her.

Juz'la's tail flicked forward. A second lightning bolt crackled out of it, striking Arvin square in the chest. The smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils as every muscle in his body wrenched into a painful cramp. His heart faltered and his vision swam with jagged streaks of light. He sagged to his knees. Only by force of will was he able to prevent himself from blacking out.

"If you kill me," he croaked, "you'll never get the other half."

He heard a hiss of laughter. "Corpses can be made to talk."

She was bluffing. She had to be. Otherwise she'd have killed him when they first met. Full mobility had already returned to his fingers, though they felt

As though they were on fire. Beside him, he could

hear the crackling of incense in the burning oil. With an effort, he lifted his head, stared at Juz'la. She was still in serpent form.

"Tell me where it is," she hissed, "and I'll spare you."

Arvin felt a spell slither into his mind. He wanted to live. He needed to live; he was Karrell's only hope. He heard those thoughts aloud at the same time he thought them-but in a woman's voice. Karrel

"It's in a cave," he whispered. "In a bluff where the river bends. Where the flying snakes nest."

Equally strangely, he was calm when he said it. As if it didn't matter at all that he had just revealed the hiding place of the one thing that would allow him to save Karrell.

He heard a hiss of triumph. Then something stung his hand. Glancing down, he saw Juz'la's tiny black viper and twin specks of red on the back of his left hand. He'd been bitten.

The shock of it snapped him out of the spell Juz'la had snared him with. "No!" he roared.

Lunging to his feet, he slammed a shoulder into the brazier. It crashed to the floor, sending a wave of flaming oil racing toward Juz'la. She screamed as it engulfed her and shifted back into her yuan-ti form, but sticky smears of melted resin remained stuck to her, burning her skin. From head to foot, her body was a mass of seared red flesh. The burning oil, spread thinly across the floor and wicking into Juz'la's abandoned dress, illuminated her from below, throwing ghastly shadows across her face.

Arvin summoned his dagger and it flew out of the burning dress toward him. Catching it by the point, he hurled it at Juz'la. The blade buried itself in her throat. She fell to the floor, dead. The smell of burned flesh lingered in the air.

Arvin glanced down, found the viper, which was trying to slither away, and slammed a heel onto it. The tiny serpent died with a satisfying crunch.

It was cold comfort, however; Arvin could feel the viper's poison taking hold of his body. His left hand was already swelling; Karrell's ring was a tight, painful band around his little finger. He felt dizzy and weak; his heartbeat light and fast. He leaned over and vomited; it splattered onto his boots. He stared at it, shivering.

So this is how I die, he thought. Of a snake bite? After everything I've been through…

"I'm sorry, Karrell," he said aloud.

"Master?"

Arvin looked up. The half-lizard who had brought them the platter of fruit stood in one of the tunnels, staring at him, uncertain. He glanced at Juz'la, who lay face-down amid the burning oil. The scales on her head blackened and curled from the heat, peeling from her scalp like dry skin. Smoke thickened the air, making Arvin cough.

Arvin had stopped being ill, and his stomach started to uncramp. His hand still felt like all of the demons of the Abyss were tormenting it, but his heartbeat was slowing, becoming more steady. Amazed, he shook his head.

Maybe he would live.

"There's been…" he glanced at Juz'la, saw that the dagger that had taken her in the throat was hidden by the way her body had fallen.

"An accident," he concluded. He held up his grossly swollen hand. "Juz'la's viper bit me. I bumped into the brazier, and it toppled. The oil spilled out, and Juz'la was burned."

Realizing he should feign some concern, he moved to where Juz'la lay. The sudden motion, combined with his dizziness, made him reel. He turned the motion into a less-than-graceful squat, ignoring the tiny flames that licked at his boots, and pretended to be feeling for a pulse. As he did, he slipped the dagger

up his sleeve. It was a clumsy palming, but if the half- lizard noticed anything, he made no comment. "She's dead," Arvin concluded.

He started to stand, then noticed something that lay beside the body in the flaming oil: a tiny vial that must have been secreted somewhere inside Juz'la's dress. The dark liquid inside it bubbled from the heat, the cork that sealed the vial starting to char. Arvin picked up the vial before it burst and he blew on it, trying to cool it.

The half-lizard puffed out his throat, clearly agitated. He shifted uneasily on bowed legs, looking as though he'd like nothing better than to scurry away. "Master," he croaked. "What-"

Arvin stood, fought off another wave of dizziness. He stared down at the half-lizard. "Your name's Porvar, isn't it?" he asked.

The half-lizard nodded. There was fear in his eyes but also intelligence. He wasn't as far gone as the slave who had met Arvin upon his arrival.

Arvin smiled and manifested a charm. "I'd like to help you, Porvar."

The half-lizard blinked rapidly. His posture became a little less subservient.

"The Jennestaa forced you to drink a potion, didn't they?"

The half-lizard's throat puffed out in alarm.

"A good friend of mine was forced to drink a similar potion," Arvin said.

Porvar looked doubtful.

"It's all right," Arvin assured him. "You can trust me. I'm not yuan-ti. I'm human."

Porvar glanced down at Arvin's swollen hand. The flesh around the punctures was purple. "When vipers bite, humans die."

"Not this human," Arvin assured him, and it was true.

The dizziness ebbed, leaving him more certain on his feet. His left hand was in agony, though. He tried to flex his fingers and nearly cried out from the pain.

"There's a statue," Arvin said. "Dmetrio Extaminos brought it with him when he came to Ss'yin'tia'saminass. Take me to it, and I'll help you escape."

The half-lizard laughed. "Where to? The jungle extends to the horizon."

"Better free in the jungle than a slave here," Arvin countered.

The half-lizard blinked. Once. Twice. "Why do you want the statue?"

Arvin smiled. "I plan on smashing it."

The half-lizard considered this. "And the others?" he asked.

"There's more than one statue?" Arvin asked.

Porvar shook his head. "The ones in the pit. The halfings who are still… whole. Will you help them, too?"

"I'll do what I can," Arvin promised.

Porvar's lips twitched. He turned. "Come. I will show you where Juz'la moved it to."

The corridor was only chest-high; Arvin had to walk bent over to follow. While the half-lizard's back was turned, he shook the dagger out of his sleeve and sheathed it and placed the vial in a pocket. Then he looped the wine-soaked cloth around his neck as an improvised sling for his swollen hand. He wished, belatedly, that he'd gotten Tanju to teach him one of the powers that stabilized and helped heal the body. Instead, he'd focused, those past six months, on powers he thought he might need in his battle

with Sybyl. He hadn't expected to live long enough to require healing.

to require healing.

It soon became too dark to see, so Arvin followed Porvar with one hand on the half-lizard's shoulder.

The corridor they followed ran in sinuous curves for some distance, and Arvin was certain they were no longer under the pyramid. Every so often, they passed through another of the circular, multi-exited chambers. Most of them were filled with rubble, Arvin discovered after painfully stubbing his toe on a piece of broken stone.

Eventually, they drew near an illuminated chamber filled with yuan-ti. Arvin let go of Porvar and assumed a sliding, more fluid gait. He filled the minds of the yuan-ti with the illusion of scales on his body and slit-pupilled eyes. He wet his lips with his tongue, adding a serpent's forked flicker. Porvar glanced back at him, perhaps wondering why Arvin shuffled his feet, but the illusion wasn't directed at the half-lizard's mind. Arvin gave him an encouraging nod and gestured for him to lead on.

Soon Arvin smelled earth and mold and saw a dim light up ahead. Porvar halted a few moments later at the entrance to an enormous circular chamber. Easily fifty paces across, it was illuminated by moonlight that shone in through a portion of the ceiling that had collapsed. The moldy smell probably came from the rotted timbers that had tumbled into the room. Vines trailed in through the hole, brushing the spot where they'd fallen. Arvin noted the leaves, shaped vaguely like human hands, and the berries that were clustered in bunches like grapes. Assassin vine.

The chamber was crowded with pieces of weathered statuary that had, presumably, been scavenged from the ruins above. Stone snake heads with jagged, broken necks lay here and there on the floor. Some were no larger than Arvin's own head; others were chest-high. All had once been painted in bright colors, but the paint was flaked from them like shedding skin. Empty eye sockets had probably once held gems.

There were also a number of broken slabs of squared-off stone: stelae, covered with inscriptions in Draconic. The chamber also included a more-orless intact statue that Arvin recognized from Zelia's childhood memories: the World Serpent, progenitor of all the reptile races. Lizard folk, yuan-ti, nagas, and a host of other scaly folk stared up at her from below, paying the goddess homage. They stood on the bent backs of humans and other two-legged races who crouched, like slaves, in perpetual submission.

Sounds drifted down the corridor behind them. Somewhere in the distance, a yuan-ti voice shouted. That couldn't be good.

"Whero is the statue Prince Dmetrio brought with him from Hlondeth?" Arvin asked.

Porvar pointed at the far side of the room. "There."

Arvin sighted along the pointing finger. The statue stood against the far wall. It was small, no more than knee-high, with a gray-green body and wings that were covered in gilt. Pale yellow gems glittered in its eye sockets: yellow sapphires. Its hands were raised above its head, forming the circle that symbolized birth. Sseth reborn-the perfect hiding place for the Circled Serpent.

Arvin took a step forward but Porvan caught his arm, preventing him from entering the chamber. He nodded at the vines that trailed in through the ceiling.

"Stranglevine," he whispered, as if afraid his voice might awaken it.

Arvin smiled. "I know. I've worked with the stuff often enough."

Silver sparkled from his forehead, lengthening into a long, thin rope. Quick as thought, it wound itself around the assassin vines, binding them together. The plant, sensing it was under attack, began writhing like a snake. Arvin wrapped the far

end of the shimmering rope around one of the larger serpent heads, stretching the assassin vine as tight as a lyre string.

"Wait here," he told Porvar.

He jogged over to the statue. A quick glance noted a slight discoloration; a sniff told Arvin that it was contact poison. He slipped off his improvised sling, wound it around his good hand, and lifted the statue with that. He didn't feel or hear anything shifting inside the statue when he picked it up. That worried him-Juz'la might already have removed its contents, and if she'd hidden Dmetrio's half of the Circled Serpent somewhere else, he might never find it.

Fortunately there was an easy way to find out if there was anything inside. Raising the statue above his head, Arvin slammed it down onto the floor.

Out of the shattered remains fell the lower half of the Circled Serpent. It glinted silver in the moonlight, the tiny scales carved onto its surface made a netlike pattern on the gleaming metal.

Arvin closed his eyes and heaved a huge sigh of relief. He'd done it! Both halves were his. Now all he had to do was find the door.

One thing worried him, however. Dmetrio hadn't kept the lead-lined box the Circled Serpent had been found in, which meant that something else had been hiding it from divination magic. The gray-green glaze on the ceramic statue must have had lead in it-but Arvin had smashed the statue, so that protection was no longer in place.

Arvin wished he still had his magical glove; vanished inside it, the Circled Serpent would probably escape detection. Without it, all Sibyl had to do was cast a location spell to find it.

A rustling noise behind him warned him that the ectoplasm that bound the assassin vine was starting to fade. He renewed it with a fresh manifestation,

tying several loops into the rope he bound it with. Then he scooped up the Circled Serpent and tucked it inside his shirt, using his sling to tie it in place. He turned and motioned Porvar forward.

"Come on," he said, placing a foot in the lowermost loop of his improvised ladder. "Let's get out of here."

The half-lizard glanced nervously at the vine.

Arvin nodded toward the corridor. The shouting he'd heard grew louder. "We may have been found out," he said. "Do you really want to go back the way we came?"

Porvar shook his head.

"Then climb," Arvin instructed. "Follow me."

The climb wasn't an easy one for Arvin, despite his magical bracelet. He could use only one hand, and Porvar, below him, kept jostling the rope. Halfway up, Arvin's feet slipped and he nearly fell. Feet flailing, he clung to the vine with his good hand, trying to twist himself back around. As his feet found the vine again, something tickled the small of his back-a tendril of assassin vine, worming its way up inside his shirt. Cursing, he fumbled at it with his injured hand, but the vine curled around his waist and spiraled its way up his body. Within heartbeats, it tightened around his throat. Arvin hooked his arm around the vine and tried to pull the tendril off with his good hand but couldn't get his fingers under it. He traded arms, hooking the left one around the rope, and reached for his knife. The tendril tightened.

The vine jerked as Porvar shifted below. Arvin tried to shout at him to back off but the vine had already cut off his breath. He felt hands grasping his ankles, then his legs-what was the half-lizard trying to do, climb past him and escape? He tried to kick Porvar off, but the half-lizard gripped his legs too tightly.

"No!" Porvar hissed.

Arvin heard a chewing noise. Porvar grunted then wrenched his head to one side. The pressure on Arvin's throat eased. Glancing down, Arvin saw Porvar spit out a length of tendril. The half-lizard grinned up at him.

"You can stop kicking me now."

Unwinding the limp tendril from his throat, Arvin breathed his thanks.

The rest of the climb went smoothly. Getting out of the hole was tricky, but Porvar gave Arvin a boost from below Arvin scrambled out and secured the Circled Serpent inside his shirt again. That done, he extended his good hand to Porvar, helping him clamber out. He backed Porvar away from the hole. When the ectoplasmic bonds evaporated, the entire assassin vine would come snaking up out of it.

They had emerged into dense jungle. The weathered remains of stone buildings loomed nearby, smothered in a thick layer of leafy vegetation. A few paces away, an enormous stone snake head stared with sightless eyes into the jungle. Trees stood like living pillars, their branches forming a dark canopy overhead.

Off in the distance to their right, something crashed through the jungle-several things, judging by the sound of it. From the opposite direction-the center of the ruined city-came yet more shouting. One of the creatures moving through the jungle was headed their way. The ground trembled as it drew closer. Arvin heard the crack of branches and saw trees moving. As it broke through the trees, he dragged Porvar into the shadow of the serpent head. An enormous reptile like the one he'd seen earlier lumbered past, a yuan-ti perched on a saddle on its back. The yuan-ti brandished a spear in each fist, and a feathered cape fluttered out behind him.

"The Se'sehen," Porvar breathed. "Ss'yin'tia'saminass is under attack."

"That's good," Arvin said. "In the confusion, you can escape."

Porvar gave him a level stare. "Not without my son."

"He's in the pit, isn't he?"

Porvar nodded.

Arvin struggled with his conscience. He'd retrieved the second half of the Circled Serpent-the only sane thing to do was shift into the form of a flying snake and get out. Now Karrell was counting on him. Arvin's own children would die if he failed to save them. Porvar was a stranger, trying to hold Arvin to a promise he couldn't afford to keep.

"Please," Porvar begged.

His whisper was all but lost in the crashing that surrounded them. Dozens of the giant lizards were thundering through the jungle toward the center of Ss'yin'tia'saminass.

Arvin sighed. "Which way is the pit?"

Porvar grinned, revealing a jagged set of teeth. "This way."

They hurried through the jungle, moving at right angles to the attack. More than once they had to stop and hide from other Se'sehen, also mounted on lizards. Eventually, the jungle opened up, and Arvin could see the cistern just ahead. He heard cries coming from inside it: the halflings. One of them was dead, impaled on the needle-like spikes. His face, level with the rim of the cistern, had turned a faint blue and was so swollen it was impossible to see his eyes.

Porvar stared, transfixed, at the corpse. "Poison," he croaked.

"Is your son good at climbing?" Arvin asked. The half-lizard startled, then nodded.

"Tell the halflings to bo ready to catch a rope."

Without wasting any more words, Arvin uncoiled

the braided leather cord he'd fastened around his

waist and began to climb a nearby bee. When he was high enough to look down into the pit, he tied one end of the cord to a tree branch and tossed the other down into the cistern, shouting its command word as he did so. The trollgut rope expanded, more than doubling in length. One of the halflings caught the other end.

"Is there something you can tie it to?" Arvin shouted.

The halflings looked around then shook their heads. The floor of the cistern was rough with broken stone, but none of the chunks was large enough to serve as an anchor for the rope. Arvin was just about to break the unpleasant news that one of them would have to hold it while the others climbed out when another of the enormous lizards hurtled toward them through the jungle. It smashed through the trees mere paces away from Arvin, sending the tree he was in whipping back and forth, and skirted the cistern, the yuan-ti on its back clinging grimly to its saddle. Arvin clung equally grimly to a branch with his one good hand.

As the giant lizard thundered away, Arvin heard a cheer go up from the halflings below. Glancing down, he saw that the lizard had knocked over a tree, which had fallen into the pit. Its trunk formed a ramp up to the rim. Already the halflings were scrambling up, Porvar's son in the lead. The half-lizard moved forward to embrace him, but the boy shrank back, frightened. Then, visibly screwing up his courage, he hugged his father. Porvar looked up at Arvin, waved his thanks, then hurried away with the others into the jungle.

"Nine lives," Arvin whispered.

He added a silent prayer that Tymora keep sending the halflings luck. To escape in the middle of a full-scale assault, they would need it.

Arvin, fortunately, would be out of there as soon as he could morph into a flying snake.

He cut the new growth from his trollgut rope and looped what remained over his shoulder. Then he started to draw energy up through his navel and into his chest. Only then did he think to touch his chest and make certain the lower half of the Circled Serpent was still there.

It wasn't. It must have fallen when the lizard brushed the tree.

A chill ran through him. His heart stopped racing a moment later, however, when he spotted it on the ground near the base of the tree. Aborting his manifestation, he scrambled down to grab it. He secured the Circled Serpent back inside his shirt and resumed his manifestation.

He tried to draw energy up through his navel, but all that came was a trickle. Only the tiniest amount of energy remained in his muladhara. He'd been spending it wantonly, neglecting to check how much remained. There wasn't enough to morph himself into a flying snake.

He'd have to walk out of Ss'yin'tia'saminass on foot.

He turned, trying to figure out which way the river was. It was somewhere to the east, but under the trees, in moonlight, it was impossible to figure out which way that might be. He decided to find a place to hole up, sleep, and replenish his muladhara.

He walked for some time through the ruins of Ss'yin, leaving the sounds of battle farther and farther behind. Enormous stone snake heads and low mounds that had once been buildings loomed out of the darkness on either side. He paused under a tree, looking for a sheltered place to perform his meditations. After a moment, he found a good spot: a circle of darkness in the side of a ruined building that was overgrown with vines-a doorway.

Dagger in hand, he pulled aside the vines and crawled into a corridor. He was taking a risk. Something else might have already claimed it as its lair. The corridor, however, ended in a pile of collapsed rubble only two or three paces into the building. It smelled of mold, and its floor was littered with dead leaves and other debris but it was otherwise empty.

Arvin collapsed, exhausted. He would sleep only a short time, he told himself; just long enough to refresh his mind so that he could perform his meditations.

He lay down, pillowing his head on his arms. No more than a quick nap, and…

A rustling noise snapped Arvin awake. He sat up, dagger already in hand. He'd slept for longer than he'd intended. Outside his hiding place, twilight was already filtering through the jungle. The air was steamy and hot.

The swelling in his left hand had gone down; he was able to move it again. The twin punctures on the back of it were still an angry red, but the agony had ebbed. The hand just felt stiff and sore.

He paused, listening carefully, and heard monkeys chatter to each other over the rasping caw-caw-caw of a jungle bird. The rustling noise had probably been the monkeys, swinging through the trees. Other than that, the jungle was quiet. Whatever the outcome of the Se'sehen attack on Ss'yin, the battle was over.

He oonsidered performing his meditations inside his refuge but decided to take advantage of the animals outside. A quick dagger throw, and he'd have fresh meat. Then he'd restore his muladhara.

He crawled outside and stood, stretching out the kinks that came from sleeping on a stone floor.

A slight rustle of the leaves above his head was all the warning he got. A heartbeat later, a snake- tailed yuan-ti with green scales the exact color of the leaves around him swung down from the branch above hill. and yanked Arvin off his feet.