Viper's kiss

CHAPTER 3

With a lurch that caused the hard, lumpy ingots of iron Arvin had been lying on to shift, the riverboat got under way. The cargo hold was nearly full; the deck was a mere palm's width above Arvin's face. Footsteps thudded across it, loud above the constant rush of water past the hull. Arvin, lying in darkness, shivered and tried to flex numbed fingers and toes. The temperature had hovered around the freezing point even after the sun came up, and he was chilled to the bone.

He lay just below one of the smaller hatches, its edges outlined with thin morning sunlight. As footsteps passed over him once more, making the deck creak, he awakened the energy that lay coiled at the base of his scalp and manifested the power he'd used the night before.

Silver sparkles flared around him then disappeared. He sent his awareness upward, through the deck, and sent it questing through the minds of the people who were aboard the boat. He dipped briefly into the thoughts of a sailor who was gripping the riverboat's tiller-how much better it was, this fellow was thinking, to sail aboard a boat as a free man-and into those of a second sailor who was serving as lookout. Perched high on the mast, this second fellow was awed by the speed at which the riverboat was traveling. It was only his tenth trip south, and yet he'd been chosen as lookout, due to his keen eyesight. The thought filled him with pride.

There were also two guards on board-one half-asleep as he leaned on one of the deck-mounted crossbows, the second tense as a spring and gleefully visualizing sending a bolt into attacking slavers. Idly watching them was the captain, a man whose mind wasn't on his duties. Instead his thoughts were lingering on the woman he'd lain with last night as he tried to recall her name.

The thoughts of the next man were much more interesting. His mind was focused intently upon the wind that was driving the boat along. He was controlling its intensity with a spell. Unlike the others on board, he thought in terms of sound and tactile sensation. Though he was directing the wind against the sail, there was no accompanying picture in his mind. He thought of the sail in terms of a taught canvas under his hand, of the creak of its yard as it shifted under the wind. He must, Arvin realized with some surprise, be blind.

There were three passengers on board: a merchant who was fretting over a delay that had nearly caused him to miss the boat, and a husband and wife on their way to Ormpetarr to attend a relative's wedding. She was eagerly anticipating it; he was dreading the tedium of being cooped up in a room with her boring kinfolk.

Arvin continued searching, but found no sign of Karrell. He wondered why she wasn't on board. Had she chosen not to travel to Ormpetarr after all? The thought disappointed him. At the same time he felt relief to have found no sign of Zelia. There were only nine people aboard the riverboat, all of them strangers to Arvin. All were just what they seemed to be. None were mind seeds.

Arvin drew his awareness back inside himself, ending the manifestation. He slid a hand under the small of his back, grasped the dagger that was sheathed there, and vanished it into his glove. He wouldn't use his weapon unless he had to. For now, his plan was to present himself as a stowaway with good reasons for sneaking on board-the captain's thoughts had given him an idea-and offer to pay for his passage.

He shoved open the hatch and clambered up onto the deck, dragging his pack behind him. Two people who must have been the husband and wife-he a sour looking man with a heavy black beard, she a narrow-faced woman wearing a white fur hat, her hands shoved into a matching muff-had been standing next to the hatch. They started at Arvin's sudden appearance. The merchant, a portly, balding fellow in a gold-thread cloak, was a few paces away. As Arvin appeared from the hold, he blinked in surprise.

One of the guards-a wiry fellow with a hook nose and tangled black hair-whipped a glance over his shoulder, shouted, "Slaver!" and immediately tried to swing his crossbow around to point inboard, only to find that it wouldn't swivel that far. The other guard-the older, gray-haired man Arvin had distracted last night when he crept aboard-looked startled but wasn't yet awake enough to react.

Arvin glanced up at the raised rear deck, searching for the captain. Three men stood there: a dark-skinned human with short, dark hair tarred flat against his head and a shadow of stubble on his chin; a barrel-chested man with a beard that didn't quite hide the faded S-brand on his cheek, holding the tiller; and an elf clad head to toe in white, his eyebrows furrowed in a V of concentration and his silver hair twisting in the magical wind like fluttering ribbons. The elf's eyes were unfocused, identifying him as the blind spellcaster.

Though both of the other men looked like ordinary sailors, the dark-skinned one was clearly in command. He stared a challenge at Arvin, fists on his hips.

Arvin gave the captain a grin and opened his mouth to begin his explanation, but before he could get a word out, he saw a motion out of the corner of his eye. The hook-nosed guard had yanked a sword from the sheath at his hip. He tensed, about to attack.

So much for explanations, Arvin thought. Quick as a blink, he summoned energy from points deep in his throat and his third eye and sent it down into his right foot. A droning noise filled the air as he stomped the deck, sending a flash of silver shooting through the planks toward the guard holding the sword. The deck below hook-nose's feet bucked, sending him staggering. He grabbed at the rail and managed to steady himself, but lost his weapon overboard. "My sword!" he shouted. Cursing, he stared at the dark water that had swallowed it.

The gray-haired guard by now had a hand crossbow leveled at Arvin's chest, but Arvin's chief worry was the spellcaster at the stern. The elf, however, seemed oblivious to what was happening on the main deck. His attention remained focused on the riverboat's main sail. By feel alone, he was directing the magical wind, his fingers moving in complicated patterns as if he were knotting a net.

Arvin bowed to the captain and manifested a second power-this one coercive rather than confrontational. "Sorry to have startled you, sir," he said. The base of his scalp prickled as energy coiled there. He let it uncoil in the direction of the captain and saw the fellow tilt his head as if listening to something as the power manifested. "I'm no slaver, but a simple stowaway. I snuck aboard to avoid a woman who… ah… thinks I should marry her."

The captain's lips quirked in a smile. "Got her in the family way, did you?" He walked down the short flight of steps to the main deck, motioning for the gray-haired guard to lower his crossbow.

As the guard complied, Arvin sighed with relief. His charm had worked. He reached into his boot, pulling out his coin pouch. "I'll gladly pay for my passage to Ormpetarr."

The hook-nosed guard stomped over to where the captain was standing, muttering under his breath. "What about my sword, then? Who's going to pay for that?"

"Do not worry," a female voice said from the bow. "This man is on his way to a meeting with Ambassador Extaminos. If he does not compensate you, the ambassador surely will."

Arvin whirled around. "Karrell!"

"Hello, Vin." She stood, smiling, a pace or two behind him. She'd obviously been aboard all along; she must have been wearing or carrying a magical device that protected her from mind-probing magic. That would explain how he'd missed her last night, when he sifted the thoughts of those at the inn. She'd been standing up on the bow until a moment or two ago, screened from view by the sail, which was why Arvin hadn't seen her. The wind of the boat's passage had tangled her hair. Somehow it made her even more beautiful.

The captain tilted his head slightly in her direction and spoke to Arvin in a low voice. "Is she the one you're-"

"No," Arvin said firmly. "She's not. We met on the wagon to Riverboat Landing. I got to know her during the journey."

The gray-haired guard smiled knowingly. "Lucky man," he said, a chuckle in his voice. "I can see why you wanted to slip the other woman."

The wife clucked her tongue in disapproval and tucked one of her hands possessively into the crook of her husband's arm. The merchant rolled his eyes.

"What about my sword?" the hook-nosed guard complained. "It was dwarven-forged steel."

The captain gave him a disdainful stare. "It was a standard trade sword, and cheaply made."

Hook-nose lowered his eyes.

"But I'm sure this man-Vin, his name was? — will pay for it," the captain continued. Then, to Arvin, in a low voice, "Five plumes is more than enough. And nine more, for your passage."

Arvin nodded, rummaged in his pouch for the gold coins, and handed them to the captain, who counted five of them into the hand of the guard.

Karrell, meanwhile, moved closer to Arvin. "I am glad you are aboard, Vin," she said, taking his arm. "Come. We will talk."

Arvin picked up his pack and followed her to the bow. As they passed the sail, the wind of the ship's passage hit them full force, whipping Arvin's cloak. They were traveling up the broad, open river at the speed of a galloping horse; already the cluster of inns that made up Riverboat Landing was far behind.

The windblown how was empty; the closest person was the lookout, who sat on a swing-like perch that had been hoisted to the top of the mast. He was a teenager, judging by the cracking of his voice as he called out hazards on the river ahead. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted back at the captain. "Snag! Snag dead ahead, two hundred paces!"

The yard creaked as the sail shifted, swinging the bow slightly to port. Arvin glanced over the bow and saw a submerged log, its tangled root mass just below

the surface and barely visible. The roots were wound around something round and gray, probably a large stone that had been uprooted with the tree when the wind blew it over. Arvin heard a thump and scrape as the hull grazed the snag, and the riverboat continued on its way, having avoided the worst of the hazard thanks to the lookout's keen eyes.

Arvin set his pack at his feet and turned to Karrell. "I'm surprised to find you on the boat," he said. "I didn't, ah… see you come aboard."

Karrell's lips twitched. "I did not see you board, either."

"I slipped into the hold this morning, just before dawn," Arvin said. He lowered his voice so the sailors wouldn't overhear. "I told the guard the truth-there was a woman, back at the Eelgrass Inn, who I'm trying to avoid. A woman with red hair and green scales that look like freckles. And a blue forked tongue. Did you notice her?"

"So that is why you left so hastily." Karrell thought a moment. "She is yuan-ti?"

"Yes. But she can pass for human, at a distance."

"I saw her. Twice. Last night, when I first arrived at the inn, and this morning, when she was talking to the innkeeper."

Arvin leaned forward, tense. "You didn't say anything about me, did you? Anything she might have overheard?"

"No."

Arvin relaxed a little. "Did you hear what she said to the innkeeper?"

"That she would stay another night."

Arvin nodded, thankful that Zelia hadn't chosen to catch this morning's riverboat. He'd been terrified by the prospect of being trapped in the cargo hold, unable to emerge on deck, and slowly freezing to death during the long voyage. Even if she did set out for Ormpetarr

on the next riverboat, he would reach that city a full day ahead of her.

Karrell stared at him. "Why do you fear her?"

Arvin swallowed. Was it that obvious? He gave Karrell a weak grin. "She dislikes me. A lot. She wants me dead. Fortunately, she believes I am dead. I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Did you quicken her egg?" Karrell asked.

"Her what?"

"She is yuan-ti. The snake people lay eggs. And the captain said-"

"Oh," Arvin said, understanding at last. He laughed at the absurdity of it and shook his head vehemently. "We didn't have that kind of relationship. We were… close, for a time. But not that close. She's a…" He paused, shuddering. He'd been about to tell Karrell that Zelia was a psion, but she probably wouldn't know what that was.

He saw that Karrell's lips were pressed together in displeasure and decided to change the subject. Like most humans, she was probably appalled at the thought of a yuan-ti and human mating. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked.

The displeased look vanished instantly from Karrell's face. She leaned forward and placed her hand upon his arm. Her touch sent a thrill through him but nothing near the rush of desire he'd felt after she'd charmed him. "You never said whether you would introduce me to Dmetrio Extaminos."

Ah. So it was that again, was it? He wondered why she wanted to meet him so badly. Was she an assassin, after all?

Karrell reached for her cloak, one hand curling as if she were about to draw it closed at her neck. Odd-she didn't look cold. Suddenly Arvin remembered where he'd seen the gesture before. It was the same one she'd used yesterday when she'd charmed him. Even as her

lips parted to whisper the spell, Arvin awoke the psionic energy at the base of his scalp and manifested a charm of his own. Karrell halted in mid-whisper, her eyes shifting to the side as if she'd heard something in the distance, over the creak of the riverboat's rigging.

Arvin suppressed his smile. The shoe would be on the other foot, this time around.

Above them, the lookout shouted. "Disturbance in the water, one hand to port, three thousand paces ahead!"

The boat swung slightly to starboard and slowed.

Arvin glanced over the bow. The boat would soon be passing a small, rocky island near the center of the river; between this island and the boat was a circular patch of disturbed water about two paces wide. It looked as though a boulder had splashed into the river at that spot, sending out ripples. Arvin searched t he island, but didn't see anything. The island was rocky and flat-devoid of vegetation that would offer concealment, and low enough that a ship wouldn't be able to hide behind it, which ruled out a catapult.

"What's causing it?" the captain called up at the lookout.

The young man at the top of the mast chewed his lip. "I don't know. Maybe a dragon turtle?" he asked nervously.

"Do you see a dragon turtle?" the captain asked in a tense voice.

"No."

The gray-haired guard snorted. "It was probably air escaping from a wreck. Or a fish fart."

The lookout twisted around to glance down at him. "Do fish fart?"

The guard chuckled.

Red-faced, the young lookout went back to his duties.

Arvin turned back to Karrell. "I'll introduce you to Ambassador Extaminos," he told her. "But I'd like

to know more about you, first." He lowered his voice and caught her eye. "You can trust me. Is it Chondath you serve?"

Karrell gave a slight frown. "Who?"

Arvin was surprised by her response. Chondath, directly to the east of Sespech, was a country, not a person. Either she was playing dumb-really dumb-or she was what she claimed, a traveler from the Chultan Peninsula. "Tell me," he urged. "What's the real reason you're going to Ormpetarr?"

Karrell's voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm looking for-"

"Disturbance three hands to starboard, two thousand four hundred paces ahead!" the lookout shouted, interrupting her. This time, his high-pitched voice had an edge to it.

The riverboat turned a few degrees back to port, and slowed still more. Karrell glanced in the direction the lookout was pointing, a slight frown on her face.

Arvin touched her arm-and felt her move into his touch. "What are you looking for?" he prompted.

"Something that was entrusted to the people of Hlondeth many years ago. It-"

"Disturbance one hand to starboard, one thousand paces ahead!" the sailor shouted.

The riverboat slowed momentarily then picked up speed and turned sharply to port.

"Yes?" Arvin prompted.

Karrell opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted a third time.

"Disturbance dead ahead, four hundred paces!"

Arvin glanced up as the lookout repeated his cry, his voice breaking. "Disturbance dead ahead!" he shouted at the guards. "Something's breaking the surface!"

Arvin glanced back at the guards. They stood tensely behind their crossbows, fingers on triggers as their eyes searched the river ahead. The merchant, the husband, and the wife milled uncertainly on the main deck. At the stern, the elf and barrel-chested sailor awaited the captain's orders. The elf's hands were raised, ready to redirect the wind. The captain glanced back and forth between the low island-much closer now-and the bubbling patch of water, his face twisted with indecision. At last he gave an order; the sailor responded instantly, leaning into the tiller.

The boat heeled sharply to port, causing Karrell to stumble. She blinked, gave Arvin a sharp d, and took a quick step back from him, withdrawing her arm from his hand. The charm Arvin had manifested on her seemed to have broken. "What is happening?" she asked, glancing warily around.

"I don't know," Arvin answered. "But I don't think it's goo-"

"Naga!" the teenaged lookout shrilled. "Gods save us, it's a naga!"

"This far north?" the captain shouted. "Are you sure?"

The lookout mutely nodded, white-faced. Arvin stared at the spot he was pointing at-a frothing patch of water a few dozen paces to starboard. A serpent-like creature had risen from the center of it. The creature looked like an enormous green eel with blood-red spines running the length of its body. Its head was h um an- shaped, its face plastered with wet, kelp-green hair that hung dripping from its scalp. Its ey were dark and malevolent as it stared at the riverboat.

"Shoot it!" the captain shouted.

Arvin heard a twang as the gray-haired guard loosed a crossbow bolt. In that same instant, the naga withdrew under the surface of the water with astonishing speed. Even as the bolt plunged into the river, the naga was gone, leaving only a spreading circle of lapping waves behind.

A moment later, over the shouting of the crew, Arvin heard a loud thud as something struck the underside of the hull. The boat canted sharply up, its stern leaving the water entirely, throwing Arvin and Karrell together into the point of the bow. Timbers groaned as the boat was forced upward by the naga rearing up beneath it; Arvin heard wood splintering as the tiller was torn away. Something splashed into the water near the stern, and someone amidships screamed-either the wife or the merchant, he wasn't sure. From above came the crack-voiced, terrified prayers of the lookout.

Then the stern slammed back down into the water. The riverboat rocked violently from side to side, water sloshing over the gunwales and its sail wildly flapping. A wave nearly carried Arvin's pack over the side. As he grabbed for it, he heard Karrell whispering urgently in her own language. From behind them came the shouts of the captain and the terrified screams of the other passengers.

A thud came from the starboard side as the naga rammed the boat a second time. The riverboat rolled sharply to port, a yardarm brushing the water. The lookout screamed as his swing-seat cracked like a whip, throwing him into the water. Clinging to the rail, Arvin heard thumps and curses as the other crew and passengers tumbled across the now-vertical deck, and a groan and cracking noises as the mast struck the water. Karrell flew past him and fell headlong into the river; Arvin shouted her name as she sank from sight. Then something hit him from behind, and he was underwater.

The first thing he noticed was the water's terrible chill; it would have taken his breath away had there been any air in his lungs. The second was the fact 1 hat the strap of his pack was loosely tangled around his left wrist. Clinging to it, he fought his way back to the surface in time to see the deck of the riverboat rushing

down at him. It slammed into his face, tearing open his cheek and forcing him under again.

When he came up for the second time, he tasted blood on his lips; warm blood was flowing down his cheek. Karrell was treading water nearby. "Are you all right?" Arvin shouted.

Karrell grimly nodded, her wet hair plastered to her face. Like Arvin, she appeared to be unhurt, aside from a few scrapes and bruises. Her dark eyes mirrored Arvin's concern. "And you?" she asked, staring at the blood on his face.

Arvin took stock. He ached all over, but nothing seemed broken. "Fine." He touched the crystal at his neck, silently thanking Tymora for her mercy. "Nine lives," he whispered to himself.

The lookout floated facedown a short distance away. Arvin swam over to him and tried to flip him over then saw that the young crewmember's neck was broken.

The riverboat was turned completely over, its splintered keel pointing skyward. A tangle of lines surrounded it like a bed of kelp. Four people treaded water within this tangle: the gray-haired guard and the three passengers. The merchant was closest to the boat: he clambered onto the overturned hull, water streaming from his hair and sodden cloak, then clung to the broken keel, dazedly shaking his head. The gray-haired guard immediately followed, dragging a hand c — crossbow behind him, then turned to help the husband and wife out of the water. The wife was sobbing but seemed unhurt; the husband grunted with the effort of trying Lo kick his way out of the water with an injured leg.

There was no sign of the rest of the crew, save for the hook-nosed guard. He was swimming determinedly toward the tiny island without a backward glance.

Arvin heard a third thump as the naga struck the bottom of the overturned boat; it rocked violently, prompting a whimper from the merchant. Arvin

turned to stare at the hook-nosed guard-the fellow had already reached the island, which was no more than a hundred paces away-then caught Karrell's eye. "Let's go," he told her.

She stared at the overturned boat. "But the passengers-"

"There's no room for us on the hull," Arvin said. "And we can do more on solid ground."

At last Karrell nodded. They swam.

Karrell reached the island first. Arvin was still dragging his pack; it slowed him down, but he couldn't afford to lose the dorje inside it. He nearly let it go when he heard a splashing noise behind him, but when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw it was the husband. The fellow had slipped back into the water and was trying to scramble out again.

Arvin reached the rocky shore and climbed out, gratefully accepting Karrell's hand. He'd only been in the river a short time but was shivering violently. Noticing this, Karrell chanted softly in her own language then touched his hand. Warmth flooded through Arvin, banishing the cold from his body. He nodded gratefully, understanding now why she hadn't needed the blanket during yesterday's wagon ride. Though a chill wind had started to blow, he felt as comfortable as if he were in a fire-warmed room. His abbreviated little finger didn't even ache. A useful spell, Arvin thought, wondering if there was a psionic power that might do the same.

"Hey," the hook-nosed guard protested, his teeth chattering. "What about me?"

Karrell was turning toward him when the wife's scream made her whirl toward the river instead. The naga had burst out of the water next to the boat, no more than a pace or two away from the battered hull. Its slit eyes ranged over the four humans who had taken refuge on top of the overturned boat: the merchant,

cowering with a horrified expression on his face; the wife, trying to pull her husband out of the water; and the gray-haired guard, loudly cursing as he fumbled one-handed with his crossbow. The guard was injured, Arvin saw; the fingers of his other hand stuck out at odd angles and his face was drawn and pale.

The naga's eyes settled on the merchant. Its tongue flickered out of its mouth, tasting the man's fear. Then it opened its mouth, baring its fangs.

The merchant screamed.

The naga lashed forward. Its teeth sank into the merchant's shoulder, injecting a deadly dose of venom. Then it reared up. The merchant, hanging from its jaws, gave one feeble kick then slumped. The naga dropped his lifeless body. It splashed into the river then bobbed back to the surface facedown.

Arvin tossed down his pack and summoned his dagger into his glove. Before he could throw it, however, the gray-haired guard raised his crossbow and shot. The bolt struck the naga in the neck. The naga jerked and lashed its head from side to side, trying to shake the bolt loose. Then it glared at the guard. It opened its mouth and flicked its tongue four times in rapid succession. Four glowing darts of energy streaked toward the guard, striking him in the chest. He grunted, slumped down onto the deck, and slid into the river.

"Tymora help us," Arvin whispered. He'd heard tales of nagas. They were said to be as cunning as dragons and as slippery as snakes, with a bite as venomous as that of a yuan-ti. He hadn't realized they also were capable of magic.

Realizing his dagger would do little against such a fearsome monster, Arvin made it vanish back into his glove. He glanced at the hook-nosed guard, hoping the fellow might also have a crossbow, but the fellow had lost his weapons during the swim to the island.

Karrell took a step toward the water's edge; it looked as though she were about to dive back into the river. "Don't," Arvin urged, catching her hand. "Wait."

"For what?" she said fiercely. "Someone else to die?"

Despite her angry rebuke, Karrell halted. She began chanting what sounded like a spell.

The naga, meanwhile, gave a loud-hiss and turned its head back and forth, as if trying to decide who its next victim would be.

Arvin had to do something-and quickly, before the naga struck again.

Sending his awareness inward, he manifested one of the attack forms Tanju had taught him-the mind blast. A psion targeted by this attack would crumple emotionally as his self-esteem and confidence were flayed away by the blast of psionic energy. A creature incapable of psionics, like the naga, would only be briefly stunned. But perhaps it would be enough.

Arvin imagined the form as Tanju had taught it to him-a man standing braced and ready, his hands held out in front of him with forefingers and thumbs touching to form a circle. When the visualization was clear, Arvin imagined the man-himself-drawing the circle toward his forehead. As power coiled tightly behind his third eye, he threw it outward at the naga. Silver sparks spiraled out from this third eye as the energies contained in the blast swept toward the creature. As they struck, the naga swayed. Its eyes rolled back in its head.

"Swim for the island!" Arvin shouted at the couple. "It's stunned-now's your chance!"

The husband tried to get into the water, but his wife clung to him. "Lie still!" she cried. "Lie still, and it won't see us!" As they struggled together, the naga blinked and shook its head. It glared down at them, its tongue flickering in and out of its mouth as its jaws parted in anticipation.

Arvin swore. The naga had recovered from the mind blast with surprising speed. Arvin wished, belatedly, that he'd chosen a different power to manifest. If he'd linked the naga's fate with that of the merchant-or the guard-their deaths would have weakened the naga, perhaps even killed it. He could still manifest a fate link-but not until he knew for certain that another death was both imminent and unavoidable.

Arvin's eye was caught by a flash of white above his head; craning his neck, he saw that it was the elf, walking through the air as if on solid ground. He held his hands out in front of him, as if half expecting to bump into something. "What happened?" he shouted. "Where is everyone?"

The hook-nosed guard stood. "Over here!" he shouted, waving his arms.

The elf turned toward the sound of his voice and started to descend. Each step carried him forward several paces at a time. But lie wasn't going to reach them in time. Not before someone else died.

Karrell finished her spell. She shouted at the naga it in a language Arvin didn't recognize. The naga whipped its head around, staring at her, and made a series of strangled cries that sounded almost like words. Then it gave a long, menacing hiss.

Arvin groaned. Karrell had distracted the naga's attention from the couple-but her spell seemed to have angered the monster. Would a glowing bolt of magical energy follow?

Just then, however, the husband at last wrenched himself away from his wife. He balanced unsteadily on the hull, preparing to dive, but then his injured leg slipped on the wet wood. Spotting the sudden movement, the naga lashed down, catching the husband's arm in its jaws. The wife screamed in horror. The husband cursed, striking the monster with his free hand. But his blows were feeble; the poison was swiftly sapping his strength.

That decided it.

Arvin sent his awareness deep into his chest, unlocking the energies stored there. As he exhaled through pursed lips, a faint scent filled the air-the power's secondary display. To Arvin, it smelled of ginger and saffron, spices his mother used to cook with, but each person catching a whiff of it would interpret it differently. To some, it might be the scent of a flower; to others, the tang of heated metal.

Arvin directed the energy first at the husband, then at the naga. The monster continued to hold the husband's arm in its jaws, oblivious to the fact its fate had just been linked with the human. The husband, meanwhile, grew increasingly weak. When his eyes began to glaze, the naga at last released him. The husband collapsed in a heap on the hull, next to his ashen-faced wife.

Arvin stared at the naga in anticipation. It shook its head and swayed loosely back and forth, part of its body sliding back under the water. It stared with dull eyes at the humans who were proving so much of an annoyance, and for one hope-filled moment Arvin thought the injuries the fate link had inflicted might cause it to retreat back into the river. But then it gave a loud, angry hiss. Whatever had prompted its attack on the riverboat, it wasn't giving up.

Arvin heard the sound of panting just above. Turning, he saw the elf had reached them at last.

"The naga's by the boat!" Arvin shouted at the elf. "Use your magic against it-quickly!"

"Where?" The elf cocked his head, trying to pinpoint the naga by sound alone. The monster, however, was no longer hissing. And the wife was wailing as she clutched her husband's lifeless body, masking any sounds the naga was making.

Arvin made a quick mental calculation. "About a hundred and fifteen paces away," he called over his shoulder. "And…" He glanced at the naga and took a wild guess. It was slightly to the left. "And one hand to port?"

The elf immediately cast a spell. Pointing a finger at the sky, he shouted in his own lilting tongue, and whipped his hand down so that it was pointing at the naga. As he did, a bolt of lightning streaked down from the overcast above, momentarily blinding Arvin. Thunder exploded directly overhead.

When Arvin opened his eyes again-blinking them to clear away the white after-image of the lightning-he saw that the bolt had missed. Instead of striking the naga it had struck the overturned boat, tearing a huge hole in the riverboat's stern. Smoke rose from the blackened planks.

"Did I hit it?" the elf cried.

The naga gave a humanlike scream, which ended in a fierce hiss of anger. Then it retaliated. Its tongue flicked out, hurling a glowing dart of energy toward the elf. He gave a sharp cry as it struck him in the shoulder and he immediately tried to cast a counter spell. But even as his lips parted, a second magical missile struck him in the chest, then a third, and a fourth. The elf faltered, fell to his knees, and began sinking through the air toward the island.

Arvin tried to manifest a second fate link-this time, between elf and naga. The monster wouldn't suffer the effects of the damage the elf had already taken, but if it continued to attack, the pain it would suffer would give it pause for thought. Though he felt a slight tingle in his chest, nothing happened. His psionic energies were too depleted to manifest that power.

The wife's wails were increasing in volume. Releasing her husband's body at last, she rose unsteadily to her feet and shook her fist at the heavens, one hand gripping the keel. "Why him?" she screamed. "Why?"

The naga's head whipped around. It lunged down, sinking its teeth into her upraised arm. She gave a choked cry and staggered backward as the nags released her. She collapsed into a seated position, supporting herself with one hand.

"Stay where you are," Karrell called to the woman. "I am coming to help." Then, before Arvin could stop her, she dived into the water. What Karrell thought she could accomplish, Arvin had no idea. The woman would be dead within a few heart beats from the naga's venom. Even if Karrell reached her in time to cast a preventive spell, she'd be the next to fall.

"Karrell, no!" Arvin cried. "Come back!"

She ignored him, swimming steadily on toward the boat.

He had to do something-but what? His energies were almost depleted, but there was one small thing he could do. Sending his awareness clown into his throat, he chose one of his lesser powers-one that caused its target to become momentarily distracted by an imagined sight or sound. A low droning filled the air as it manifested. The naga had been lashing back and forth, but as the power manifested, its head turned sharply to stare at a distant spot on the river.

As Karrell at last reached the boat and climbed up to help the injured woman, Arvin used his power to distract the naga a second time. "Karrell!" he shouted. "Swim with her back to the island! Get away from there!"

Karrell, however, wasn't listening. She crouched beside the woman, touching her arm.

The naga glanced down at her and parted its jaws. Arvin distracted it a third time.

"Hurry up," Arvin gritted under his breath. "Finish the spell."

The naga recovered-more quickly than before. Arvin distracted it a fourth time.

Karrell still hadn't completed her spell.

The naga loomed above her, hissing furiously. It was almost as if the monster realized it was being hit with psionics-and blamed the attacks on the woman who was crouched on the overturned boat, within easy striking distance.

Arvin tried to distract the naga a fifth time. Nothing happened. The energy stored in his muladhara had run dry. "Leave her!" he shouted at Karrell. She ignored him.

"Where…" a faint voice asked, "… is it?"

Arvin glanced around. The elf was kneeling on the rocks behind him, his head drooping.

"Give me your hand," Arvin said. "I'll show you." He grabbed the elf's hand and aimed it at the spot where the naga was. "There," he said. "About…"

Seeing that Karrell was also in a direct line with the elf's hand, he hesitated. If he judged the distance or angle incorrectly, she would die.

The naga bared its venomous fangs. Its eyes were locked on Karrell.

"One hundred and seventeen paces away!" Arvin urged. "Quick! Cast your spell."

The elf's lips drew together in a determined line. He pointed at the sky with his free hand and chanted the words of his spell. Guided by Arvin's hand, his arm swept downThe naga lunged forward; Karrell jerked to one side. The naga reared back, preparing to lash out at Karrell a second timeThe lightning bolt struck. This time, the aim was true. The bolt lanced into the naga's head, exploding it. This time it was bits of skull and brain that splashed down into the water, rather than splinters of wood. The suddenly headless naga swayed back and forth for a moment longer then crumpled into the water. It disappeared from sight, leaving behind ripples that sloshed against the overturned boat, staining the river red.

The elf turned his head, listening. "Did I-"

"Yes," Arvin answered. "It's dead." Dropping the elf's hand, he dived into the water and swam rapidly toward Karrell. She was hunched over the injured woman, unmoving. But as he crawled up onto the hull, he saw Karrell straighten. Her movements seemed steady enough.

"Thank the gods it missed you," he started to say. "For a moment there, I thought-" As he climbed up onto the hull, his eyes fell on her trouser leg and the twin puncture marks in it. A dark stain surrounded each puncture: blood.

Karrell glanced at the wound. "Yes. It bit me. But the wound is small." As she turned back to comfort the injured woman, Arvin saw her wince.

"But the venom?" he asked. "Why didn't it kill you?"

"My magic halted it."

Her hands, Arvin noticed, were bare. She'd yanked off her gloves to lay hands on the injured woman. Arvin saw now what had caused the bulge under her glove-a wide gold ring, set with a large turquoise stone, on the little finger of her right hand. It was probably the source of the magic that shielded her thoughts.

"You're a cleric?" Arvin guessed.

Karrell nodded. She reached for her gloves and began pulling them on.

"Of what god?" Arvin continued.

"You will not have heard of him, this far north. He is a god of the jungle."

"Your wound is still bleeding," he told her. "We've got to staunch the blood." He reached for her leg.

"No," Karrell said sharply.

Arvin drew his hands back. "No need to take offense," he told her.

"I can heal it myself." She laid a palm over the punctures and chanted a brief spell in a language Arvin had never heard before-her native tongue, he guessed. The words were crisp and short, as abbreviated and staccato as her accent.

The riverboat creaked, listing slightly as it settled deeper into the river. Glancing down at the water, Arvin saw a dark-skinned body, surrounded by a stain of red, tangled in the submerged rigging. That explained where the captain had gone. The body of the husband floated nearby. The man's head had suffered the same fate as the naga's; it had ruptured like a smashed melon. Pinkish chunks floated in the river next to it.

Karrell, wisely, had turned the wife's head away from the gruesome sight.

The boat shifted, releasing a bubble of air half the size of a wagon. Arvin was forced to grab the keel as the boat tilted still further. "It's going to sink," he told Karrell. He glanced down at the injured woman. "Let's get her to the island."

The wife had fallen silent now; she stared straight ahead with dull eyes. Together, Arvin and Karrell eased her into the water and dragged her between them as they swam back to the island where the guard and elf waited.

Karrell immediately went to the elf, despite the guard's protests that he was "freezing to death" and in need of one of her warming spells. Kneeling beside the elf, she cast a healing spell. Arvin, meanwhile, stared at the riverboat. Its bow rose slowly into the air at an angle, and it sank, borne down by the weight of its cargo.

The injured woman sat up and stared at the spot where it had gone down, crying. Karrell's spell had saved her life, but the woman's heart was still wounded. "My husband," she keened. "Why…?"

Karrell, meanwhile, cast a warming spell on the hook-nosed guard. Instead of thanking her, he spat. "So many dead-and for what? A few lousy ingots of iron."

The elf turned toward him. "The barony needs steel; that iron would have forged new shields, armor, and weapons to keep Chondath at bay." He turned blind eyes toward the water. "Did the boat sink? Was the cargo lost?"

"All but this pack, here," the guard muttered, giving Arvin's pack a kick. The pack rolled over, spilling a length of trollgut rope. Horrified, Arvin realized that the main flap had been torn. Had his dorje fallen out during his swim to the island?

The guard frowned. "That's a strange-looking rope."

Arvin hurried to his pack and began rummaging inside it, searching frantically for the dorje. He breathed a sigh of relief as his fingers brushed against the cloth-wrapped length of crystal.

"What I don't understand is what the naga was doing this far north," the guard continued, turning back to the elf. "Nagas never come north of the barrier. And why did it attack? We did nothing to provoke it."

"Yes, we did," Karrell said softly. "We crushed her nest."

The guard snapped his fingers. "That snag," he said. "The one we grazed."

Karrell nodded. "She had laid her eggs in its roots."

Startled, Arvin looked up at Karrell. He'd seen the "rock" in the snag-but Karrell hadn't. "How did you know that?"

"I asked her."

"That was the spell you cast?" he asked, incredulous. Karrell shrugged. "I thought I could talk to her. But she was too angry."

Arvin shook his head. "You can't reason with a

gods-cursed serpent," he told her. He gestured at the weapon that still hung from her belt. "Next time, use your club."

Karrell's face darkened, but before she could snap back at him, Arvin turned to the elf. "What now?" he asked. He wanted to pull the dorje out of his pack and check it, but not in front of the others. "Do we wait here for the next riverboat?"

"There won't be another until tomorrow morning," the elf said. "But I can air walk back. With a magical wind to push me, I'll be swift."

Arvin stared at the elf's unfocused eyes. "How will you find your way back?"

"Hulv will guide me," the elf said, gesturing in the general direction of the hook-nosed guard. "I can cast the spell on him, as well."

Karrell nodded down at the injured woman. "Can you take her with you?" she asked. "She needs more healing than I can provide."

The elf nodded. "Hulv will carry her."

"What about my husband?" the woman asked in a trembling voice. She stared at the spot where his headless body floated, next to that of the merchant. The lookout and gray-haired guard floated a short distance away, but the captain's body was nowhere to be seen; it must have been dragged below by the boat. As for the barrel-chested sailor, he had completely disappeared.

"Lady, your husband's body will be recovered later, together with the others who died," the elf told her. He tilted his face in the general direction of Arvin aid Karrell. "I don't have enough magic to cast the spell on all of us, so you two will have to wait here. I will get them to send another riverboat-it should reach you by midday."

"Fine," Arvin said. He pulled his cloak tighter as a breeze started to blow-a natural wind, this time. Arvin squinted up at the overcast sky, hoping it wasn't going

to start snowing again. If it did, the riverboat would have a hard time locating them.

The elf cast the spell on himself then on the sailor. Hulv picked up the injured woman and followed the elf into the air, as if climbing an invisible staircase. They walked swiftly away and soon were no more than specks in the distance.

Arvin glanced at Karrell, who had her back to him. She was staring at the bodies, which were slowly drifting away from the island, back in the direction of Riverboat Landing.

"We should recover them," she said. "Before the current carries them away."

"I suppose," Arvin agreed reluctantly. Despite the fact that the spell Karrell had cast on him was keeping him warm, he was nervous about entering the river again. "But what if another naga happens along?"

"None will come," Karrell said. "The naga was alone-an outcast, hiding from the others of her kind. She thought this would be a safer place to lay her eggs."

"Ah," Arvin said. He glanced again at the bodies. The river had only a sluggish current; it wasn't as if they were going to vanish in the next few moments. "I need to check something in my pack first. Just give me a moment; then I'll help."

Karrell didn't reply. She seemed to still be smarting from his critical remark about the spell she'd used on the naga. Arvin gave himself a mental kick for being so sharp with her-especially after she risked her own life to save that of the woman-and tried to stammer out an apology, but she dived into the water alone.

"Uh I'll be right there," Arvin called to her.

He pulled the dorje out of his pack-then stiffened as he felt something shift inside the cloth in which it was wrapped. He tore the cloth open with fumbling fingers

and groaned as he saw what lay within. The dorje had snapped cleanly in half. The lavender glow of psionic energy that had once filled it was gone.

Cursing, he slammed a fist against his leg. Now that the dorje was broken, Arvin would have to rely on his own, limited, psionic powers.

Finding Glisena wasn't going to be easy.

He shoved the broken crystal back into his pack, together with his ropes. As he tied the torn flap shut, he wondered how long it would take the second riverboat to reach them. Thinking about that, he realized the broken dorje wasn't his only problem. When the riverboat came to rescue them, it wound also recover the bodies Karrell was so diligently recovering. Its crew wouldn't want to travel with these all the way to Ormpetarr. Instead they would return to the closest town-to Riverboat Landing…

Which was the last place Arvin wanted to go… Especially if Zeli a was still there.