Vanity's brood hos-3

by Lisa Smedman

  The pyramid was tall and narrow. It resembled a series of ever-smaller blocks set one upon the other. Each of the four sides was dominated by a stone serpent that seemed to be slithering down the stonework, its head resting upon the ground, and their four tails twined together at the top of the pyramid. The serpent that decorated the front of the pyramid had its mouth open wide, and its fangs looked as though they were solid silver.

  Arvin suppressed his shudder as he followed the officer into the mouth. It reminded him a little too closely of Sseth. The mouth was open wide enough that Arvin could walk upright, but an edge of the officer's flared helmet scraped against one of the silver fangs, causing him to duck.

  A smooth ramp led down to a chamber filled with soft green light. The walls were carved to resemble scales. A forest of serpent-shaped columns held the weight of the pyramid above at bay. A sweet scent lingered in the air under the heavy musk of snake-osssra, Arvin realized a moment later. Though the braziers that dotted the floor were cold and dark, the stone walls were impregnated with the stuff.

  More militia-six halfblood officers, two of them armed with wands-stood guard in front of a gilded statue: one of the stations of Sseth. The god was depicted in his twin-tailed form, his tails encircling a black obsidian globe that represented the world. Wings flared out from his shoulders, and under each wing was an arched entry. These led to corridors that curved away to the right and left.

  The officers bowed as Arvin approached. One of them touched a hand to his helm. "Shall I inform Lady Dediana of your imminent arrival, Lord Extaminos?"

  "No," Arvin ordered. "Tell no one."

  Confusion flitted across the officer's faoe but was quickly hidden by his bow. "As you command, Lord Extaminos."

  Arvin waited for Captain Vreshni to indicate which of the corridors led to the portal. The captain did a moment later by turning slightly toward the left entrance. Arvin strode into it as if he'd known all along which route to take. The captain scurried after him.

  The corridor spiraled down past slit windows that opened onto a central room. Just like the room in the temple under Hlondeth, it was dominated by a dais of black obsidian. The snakes that had once slithered around it were dead. They'd been reduced to ash; a burned stench lingered in the air. Judging by the scorches on the walls, someone must have let loose a blast of magical fire-one of House Extaminos's wizards, perhaps.

  Just as in Sibyl's lair in Hlondeth, the portal room's only other exit was framed by the beastlord's snarling face-it probably led to a similar temple. More militia stood guard in front of the exit, looking alert and watchful. Captain Vreshni indicated a path had been cleared through the ash, allowing passage to the dais.

  "If you please, Lord Extaminos."

  Arvin started to thank him, then remembered whom he was impersonating. "Go," he said curtly, dismissing him.

  The captain bowed his way out of the room.

  Arvin took a deep breath then stepped onto the dais. For several heartbeats, nothing happened. Then the portal activated. He felt a dizzying lurch-and found himself standing in the same room as before.

  No, not the same. The corridor beyond the beast- lord's face was choked with rubble and the lantern light was stronger here. Arvin could hear soft breathing and the creak of a crossbow being drawn. Whoever was guarding this room was invisible.

  Refusing to flinch, Arvin drew himself up and glanced imperiously around the seemingly empty chamber. As he did, he manifested the power that would allow him to listen in on their thoughts.

  There-one of them was casting a spell. It was divination magic: a spell that would confirm whether the visitor who had arrived so abruptly was, indeed,

  Hlondeth's missing prince. As the spell quickened, Arvin slid deeper into her mind and neatly snipped out the memory of what her magic had revealed: a human who bore no resemblance whatsoever to Lord Dmetrio. He spliced an image of his metamorphosed form into the hole he'd just created then withdrew.

  "Show yourself," he commanded.

  A yuan-ti appeared before him. She was a dark- haired woman with yellow scales, wearing the hlgh-collared robe of Sseth's clergy. One hand held a snake-headed staff that rested on the floor. She frowned for a moment, like someone who'd just walked into a room and forgotten what they'd been looking for, then bowed.

  "Lord Extaminos," she said. "Welcome back. Your mother will be pleased to hear that you have returned."

  "Do not inform her… quite yet," Arvin said.

  The cleric, straightening, arched an eyebrow.

  "There is someone else I must speak with first."

  Her thoughts bubbled with curiosity. She held her tongue-but not her magic. Arvin felt energy surge from Karrell's ring, up through his arm and into his mind, shielding it. For just an instant, he slipped the ring from his finger and concentrated on a familiar face-Zelia's-filling his mind with it until the image crowded every other thought out. Then the ring was back on his finger again.

  The cleric's lips parted in a smile, baring the tips of her fangs. She hid it behind a bow. "I will escort you, Lord Extaminos. During the attack by the Se'sehen, a number of humans took the opportunity to… cause some problems. The streets are still not entirely secure."

  She was thinking about Gonthril. The rebel leader and his followers had been stirring up trouble, it seemed. More than that, several sections of the city,

  including a stretch of its waterfront, had fallen into human hands, but once the militia returned from down south, she was thinking, all that would end. The uprising would be crushed and the slaves who had dared to claim their freedom would be put back in their place.

  "You will show me to the surface, then resume your duties here," Arvin commanded.

  "As you wish," the cleric demurred.

  Her thoughts told him much more. Lady Dedian a had grown suspicious of Zelia of late, suspicious of the hold the mind mage seemed to have over the royal son. The queen suspected a plot-and "Dmetrio's" insistence on not telling his mother about his return had confirmed it. He would be watched. Carefully.

  Arvin smiled to himself. Years of working for the Guild had taught him how to slip away from even the most persistent watchers, and his psionics would take care of any who was armed with magic. Meanwhile, the cleric would confirm Lady Dediana's fears. If Arvin was unsuccessful in his bid to take Zelia down, House Extaminos would surely finish the job.

  For the moment, however, there was someone he needed to make contact with, someone he needed to persuade to help if his plan was to come to fruition.

  "Your concern for my well being is… appreciated," he told the cleric, "but also unfounded. I can take care of myself."

  Arvin stared across the table at Gonthril. The rebel leader hadn't bothered to disguise himself, save for the cloak hood he'd just allowed to fall back against his shoulders. His rebels-for the moment-had control of the waterfront, including one particular tavern.

  The Mortal Coil.

  Arvin smiled when Gonthril had suggested it as a meeting place. When Arvin had used a sending to contact Gonthril, he'd wondered if the rebel leader would bother to reply. It had been a year since they'd last seen one another. That they were meeting in the place where Arvin's troubles had begun was ironic. The head of the serpent was closing in on the tail.

  Though the harbor outside was nearly empty of ships-most had fled when the Se'sehen attack began-the tavern was just as Arvin remembered it. Pipe smoke had stained the coiled-rope ceiling that had given the place its name, and the air still smelled of unwashed sailors and ale. The circular walls were still damp and the benches were as hard as ever. The only "patrons," however, were Gonthril's people, who stood alert and ready, crossbows in hand. Nobody was behind the bar-and nobody was drinking.

  Gonthril looked the same but somehow older, aged by a year of hiding and fighting. Arvin, too, had aged. The two men still looked as close as brothers. Gonthril's eyes, however, were blue, and the little finger of his left hand was whole.

  "You said you
had something to offer me?" he asked. "Something I would find valuable?"

  Arvin nodded and leaned forward in his chair. "Information."

  "About what?"

  "House Extaminos. Its secrets… and its weaknesses. Everything your uprising needs to succeed."

  Gonthril's eyes glittered. "Tell me more."

  "There's a yuan-ti," Arvin began, "a mind mage named Zelia."

  ye never nearu Lae name.

  Arvin smiled. "That doesn't surprise me. Zelia makes a point of keeping out of the public eye. She controls a network of spies who have infiltrated not

  just House Extaminos but every major yuan-ti House in Hlondeth."

  "How?"

  "By passing themselves off as members of those Houses. The family members are eliminated, and the spies take their place."

  Gonthril frowned, and thought a moment. "These spies-are they dopplegangers?"

  Arvin's eyesbrows raised. The rebel leader had a quicker mind than he'd expected. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

  "The information they have gathered-is it written down?"

  "No," Arvin said. "It's all inside Zelia's head, but there's a way to get it out."

  "How?" Gonthril asked, skepticism plain in his voice.

  "By killing her. Once that's done, I can put you in touch with a cleric who can speak with the dead."

  Gonthril's eyes bored into Arvin's. "Why do you want this woman dead?"

  "For several reasons," Arvin answered. "The simple answer is that if I don't kill her, she'll kill me." He spread his hands. "That's not what really concerns me. Zelia won't stop there. She'll also make sure my wife and children die."

  Gonthril's eyebrows rose. "You've been busy, this past year."

  Arvin had to smile.

  Gonthril's expression turned serious again. "What if the information in Zelia's head turns out to be of no use to the Secession?" Gonthril said, "I'll have wasted my resources. There's an entire city of yuanti that need killing and precious few humans bold enough to do the job."

  Arvin fought to keep his smile from wavering. Gonthril's hatred of the serpent folk ran deep. If he

  realized that Arvin was part yuan-ti-and that the wife and children Arvin was trying to protect were as well-the only "help" forthcoming would be a crossbow bolt in the back. He was glad, yet again, that Karrell's ring was still on his finger.

  "Zelia is worth killing for other reasons," he said. "Convince me."

  "You've heard that Sibyl is dead?" Arvin asked.

  Gonthril nodded. "So House Extaminos says."

  "It's true," Arvin assured him. "Now Zelia is trying to pick up where Sibyl left off. Sibyl was only pretending to be Sseth's avatar, but Zelia actually stands a chance at becoming just that."

  "How?"

  "It's complicated, but the short answer is this: Sseth is bound inside his domain. He needs someone to free him. Whoever does this will be rewarded with anything they ask for. Zelia knows of an artifact called the Circled Serpent-a key that opens a door to Sseth's domain. Using it, she can free him-and become his avatar."

  Gonthril whistled under his breath. He sat in silence a moment, then reached inside his shirt and pulled out a chain that was looped through a ring-a wide band of silver, set with deep blue sapphires. He took it off the chain and slid it across the table to Arvin. "Put it on."

  Arvin did, reluctantly. He remembered the last time he'd worn it. With the ring on, he'd be unable to tell a lie. If Gonthril asked directly about the Circled Serpent, Arvin would have to tell him it had already been destroyed. Gonthril would assume everything Arvin had just told him was a lie, and Arvin would have to fight his way out of the Mortal Coil.

  He resisted the urge to glance at the half-dozen crossbows pointed at him. Instead he took a deep breath. Control, he urged himself. He didn't need to

  tell the whole truth about the Circled Serpent-he just had to concentrate on answering Gonthril's questions as succinctly as possible.

  Gonthril looked him square in the eye. "Do you work for House Extaminos?" he asked.

  Relief washed through Arvin as he saw the tack Gonthril's questions would take. He smiled. "No," he answered, his voice firm and level. "As I told you when you asked me that question a year ago, I work for myself."

  This time, it was the truth.

  "Is the story about wanting to kill Zelia a ruse to trap me?"

  "No."

  "Is your name really Arvin?"

  Arvin frowned. "Of course."

  "Are you a doppleganger?"

  Arvin laughed. "No. What you see is what you get. I'm-" He was about to say "human" but checked himself just in time. He shrugged. "I'm Arvin."

  Gonthril nodded then gestured for Arvin to take off the ring.

  Arvin did and passed it back to Gonthril. The rebel leader slipped it back on the chain and hung it around his neck.

  "What's the Seccession's part in your plan?" the rebel leader asked. "What do you need us to do?"

  "Not the Seccession," Arvin said. "You. I need someone who can pass as me without having to resort to magical disguises. I'll be playing the part of one of Zelia's spies-a spy that has 'captured' Arvin. It will be dangerous and unpleasant, but if Zelia reacts as I expeot her to-and believe me, I know her well-it will give me the chance to take her completely by surprise."

  "I see," Gonthril said. For several moments, there was silence. Gonthril glanced at one of his rebels. The man gave a slight shrug then nodded.

  Arvin waited for the rebel leader's reply.

  "I'll need to know more details, of course," Gonthril said, "but so far, you've got my interest."

  Arvin heaved a mental sigh of relief. He hesitated then decided to broach the question that had been nagging at him for some time. "Before we get into the details, there's one thing I neglected to ask the last time we met," he said, his voice low enough that Gonthril's people wouldn't hear it.

  "Go on," Gonthril said.

  Arvin waved a hand between them. "We look enough alike to be brothers," he whispered. "Is there any chance that we might be?"

  Gonthril gave a tight smile. "My mother had a very strong spirit. When I was growing up, I often heard her tell my father she wouldn't be bound to any one man. We may-you and I-very well have been fathered by the same man."

  "Did your mother ever mention a bard named Salim?"

  "No."

  "Then your father-"

  "The only man who earned the right to be called `father' was the man who raised me," Gonthril said in a stern voice. His expression was grim. For a moment, Arvin was worried he'd offended Gonthril.

  "That man is dead," Gonthril continued, "as is my mother. They died in the so-called 'Plaza of Justice' the year I turned thirteen, executed for a crime they did not commit, but that didn't matter. They were human, and "insolent to their betters.' Even as they were led to their deaths, they refused to go quietly and shouted insults at the yuan-ti who had condemned them." His eyes grew fierce. "I decided to carry on that tradition of defiance. That same year, I joined the Secession."

  Arvin listened quietly, surprised by how much he and Gonthril had in common. Each of them had

  been forced to make his way in the world alone. Their lives, however, had taken very different paths.

  Gonthril shrugged. "You don't need to convince me that we're related," he said. "I'm helping you for the good of Hlondeth-for the benefit of humans everywhere-not because of some blood tie we may or may not share."

  Arvin nodded, his face neutral, but his heart was beating quickly. Was the man across the table from him really his brother? Arvin's mother had believed that Arvin was the only child Salim had ever fathered-but what if the bard had been lying to her-or simply hadn't realized that a previous liaison had produced a child?

  It would be ironic indeed if the leader of a group dedicated to returning Hlondeth to human hands turned out to be part yuan-ti.

  Gonthril had already moved on; he leaned across the table in a conspiratorial hunch. "Now tell me your
plan. In detail."

  CHAPTER 13

  Arvin walked toward Zelia's tower, herding his captive ahead of him. Gonthril had a blindfold over his eyes and his hands were bound behind his back. His feet were hobbled, so he staggered when Arvin shoved him forward. The bonds looked and felt tight but were special knots that could be loosened in an instant by tugging the right strand. The rebel leader played his part to perfection, never once complaining about Arvin's rough handling.

  When they reached the door, Arvin waited. Tension knotted his stomach. The seed Pakal had killed in Karrell's village had told him of the tower's defences-about the strip of copper hidden within the doorframe that would manifest a catapsi on any psionicist

  who entered and the invisible mage mark designed to take care of non-psionic intruders. The seed had also told him how to get past them. A pressure plate high above had to be pushed with a far hand manifestation as one stepped through the door. It had alerted Arvin to the dangers that lay within. Even so, Arvin had to steel himself as he knocked then waited for the door to open. The bottle he held in his left hand was slippery with sweat.

  Control, he told himself. Then he smiled. He was thinking like Zelia-which was just what he wanted.

  Arvin's crystal hung around Gonthril's neck and Karrell's ring was on one of the fingers of Gonthril's right hand. A glove on his left hand hid the fact that his little finger was whole. The disguise wouldn't stand up to scrutiny, but if all went well, Zelia wouldn't get a chance to make a close inspection.

  As the door swung open, Arvin grabbed Gonthril by the hair and forced him to his knees.

  He had been expecting some minion to answer his knock, and was surprised to find Zelia herself staring out at him. Then he realized that it was probably one of her duplicates.

  It looked like Zelia, though, down to the last pore. Long red hair glowed in the light of the setting sun, and her green eyes matched the color of the scales that freckled her cheeks and hands. She wore a yellow dress of watered silk that plunged low between her breasts and left her arms bare. The scales that covered her body were a deep sea green. She glanced briefly at Arvin, then at the captive. Her eyes flashed silver as she manifested a power. Then she frowned.