Viper's kiss hos-2

by Lisa Smedman

  Arvin watched, amused, as the weedy-looking boy-pretending to be one of the cluster of touts for the inns and tavel as-crowded around the bottom of the gangplank with the other boys. The gangplank suddenly tipped-one of the dock workers must have bumped it-and the yuan-ti stumbled. The boy jumped forward to steady him. As he caught the yuan-ti, his left hand darted into a pocket inside the yuan-ti's cloak. The yuan-ti bared his fangs in an irritated hiss, and the boy backed away, bowing and making a sweeping gesture with his right hand in order to draw onlookers' eyes away from the object he'd palmed with his left.

  The yuan-ti wasn't fooled. His slit eyes narrowed, and he touched his pocket with slender fingers. "Thief!" he hissed.

  Arvin, descending the gangplank, was surprised by the speed of the yuan-ti's reaction, given the fellow's earlier sluggishness. The yuan-ti lunged forward, grabbing for the boy's wrist.

  The boy was faster. The yuan-ti's hand caught his shirt cuff, but he wrenched his arm free and danced back out of the way. His hands-now empty-were spread wide. "He's crazy!" he protested. "All I did was help when he stumbled."

  The doxy moved into position at the base of the flight of steps. Arvin knew what would happen next. The rogue would turn and flee-only to run headlong into her. During this "accidental collision" whatever he'd just stolen would be exchanged. Eventually he would be caught, and searched, but by this time the doxy would be well on her way down the pier and out of sight, passing the object off to the next rogue.

  The yuan-ti, however, wasn't playing along. Instead of calling out for the militia-or whoever patrolled this city-he used magic. No words were spoken, no gestures used. but suddenly the young rogue's face blanched and his hands started to tremble. Arvin knew just how he felt, having been the target of a yuan-ti's magical fear himself.

  "You've… made a mistake, sir," he gasped.

  The yuan-ti raised a hand and flicked his fingers. Acidic sweat sprayed from his fingertips, striking the boy in the face. The young rogue howled and clawed at his eyes.

  "Give it back," the yuan-ti demanded.

  The boy turned and ran-blindly, crashing into the dock workers and shoving them out of the way. As he neared the base of the steps, the doxy opened her mouth as if to call out to him then thought better of it and turned away. The rogue waved his arms around, feeling blindly for her then staggered up the steps.

  The yuan-ti turned to the officer on board the ship. "Use your wand," he hissed. "Stop him."

  The officer shook his head… slowly.

  Nearly spitting with anger, the first yuan-ti slithered after the blinded rogue. The stairs slowed him down somewhat-he slithered back and forth along them, humping his serpent's body up them one by one-but the boy's progress was even slower. He ran headlong into a pair of dock workers who were carrying a heavy sack between them and careened backward down the stairs. As he scrambled to his feet again, the yuan-ti lashed out, trying to bite him, and just missed. The yuan-ti's fangs caught the boy's collar, tearing it, and the boy shrieked. "He's trying to kill me! Stop him, somebody!"

  Arvin strode down the gangplank and onto the pier.

  He caught the doxy's eye, made his left hand into a fist, placed it on his open right palm, and jerked his hands upward. Help him.

  The doxy's eyes widened as she saw Arvin using silent speech. For a heartbeat, she hesitated. Then, as the young rogue on the steps screamed a second time, she shook her head and hurried away.

  Arvin was furious. The doxy could easily have saved the boy by "accidentally" colliding with the yuan-ti. She still had eyes to see with, and could have run away, but she'd abandoned him instead. Muttering to himself-and wondering what in the Abyss he was thinking, getting involved in the local guild's business-Arvin ascended the steps. He slipped his gloved hand inside the back of his shirt and grasped the dagger that was sheathed there. With a whisper, he vanished the weapon into his glove; it would make a persuasive backup if his psionics failed. He readied himself to manifest a charm and felt the familiar prickle of energy coiling at the base of his scalp, waiting to be unleashed. But as he reached the top of the steps, he paused. Maybe just maybe-this dispute would resolve itself.

  The young rogue had backed up against the dais that held the statue of the gauntlet. He threw down whatever it was he'd stolen; Arvin heard a metallic clatter as the object hit the cobblestones. "Take it!" the boy screamed. "Take it. and let me be! You've blinded me-what more do you want?"

  The yuan-ti slithered over to the object-a small silver jewelry case-and picked it up. He slipped the case back inside his pocket and smiled at the boy, baring his fangs. His long forked tongue flicked in and out of his mouth, tasting the young rogue's fear. "Your death," the yuan-ti answered belatedly. Then he slithered forward.

  None of the people in the small plaza that surrounded the statue came to the aid of the blinded

  boy-thieves must have been as despised in this city as they were in Hlondeth. And yuan-ti must have been just as greatly feared. The humans had parted to let the angry yuan-ti pass, though Arvin noted they weren't lowering their gazes. Instead they stared at the yuan-ti, faint smiles quirking their lips, as if expecting something to happen.

  They didn't have long to wait. The young rogue, hearing the rustle of the yuan-ti's tunic and cloak against the ground, spun in place then leaped. His jump carried him up onto the ankle-high dais, where he crashed into the gauntlet. He clung to it like a drowning man clutching a log as the yuan-ti reared above him, savoring his terror. A drop of venom fell from his fangs onto the boy's hair. Amazingly, though the young rogue flinched, he did not move.

  Arvin manifested his charm.

  The yuan-ti cocked his head, as if listening to a distant sound, then shook it.

  "Mager yuan-ti!" Arvin called in as obsequious a tone as he could manage, sorry that he hadn't bothered to ask the yuan-ti his name during their day-and-aha if-long voyage across the Reach. "You're needed back at the ship. The crew aren't certain which trunks are yours. Don't waste your time on this boy. You got your jewelry case back. All's well now, friend."

  The yuan-ti stared at Arvin for several heartbeats while flakes of snow drifted down between them. His lips twitched in a sneer. "Friend?" he asked.

  "Damn," Arvin muttered. Quickly, he spoke the command word that made the dagger reappear in his gloved fist. He started to raise it-but a man beside him caught his arm. The fellow-a large man in a food-stained apron, his lack of a cloak indicating he'd stepped out of a building to watch the fight-shook his head. "No need, stranger," he whispered. "The gauntlet will provide sanctuary."

  While Arvin was still trying to get his arm free-the man beside him might have been stout, but he had a grip tight as a coiled serpent-the yuan-ti lashed out at the rogue, fangs bared.

  Halfway through his lunge the yuan-ti jerked to a halt. He strained for several moments against an unseen force, his body quivering, then slowly drew back. He studied the rogue for a moment, swaying back and forth, and glanced at the gauntlet. Then he reached down to grab the young rogue's ankles.

  It was clear to Arvin what the yuan-ti intended-to drag the boy away from the gauntlet, which obviously was providing some sort of magical protection. But once again, the yuan-ti jerked to a halt, his grasping fingers just shy of the rogue's ankle. The yuan-ti shook for a moment in silent rage, and his face flushed red where it was not covered by scales.

  A woman in the crowd chuckled.

  The yuan-ti spun and lashed out at her instead.

  Screaming, she jerked away, clutching her shoulder. She tried to get to the gauntlet, but the yuan-ti slithered into her path, cutting her off. The crowd, suddenly fearful, broke apart. Several people shouted, and some ran.

  The young rogue, still gripping the gauntlet, turned his head from side to side, trying to hear what was happening through all the commotion.

  Arvin felt the hand fall away from his arm. He still held his dagger but was jostled by the panicked crowd and could not get a clear throw. Too many people wer
e between him and the yuan-ti-but the crowd was quickly thinning.

  The woman who had been bitten, her face pale, backed up until she was against a building then stared with wide eyes at the yuan-ti. "No!" she moaned, her hands clasped in front of her. "Please, no." The yuan-ti's first bite must have failed to penetrate her thick cloak, but

  his second one wouldn't. The yuan-ti's head wove back and forth, his eyes fixed on her bare hands. If Arvin didn't act swiftly, an innocent woman would die.

  Just as the crowd thinned and Arvin raised his dagger, a deep male voice shouted from somewhere to the right. "Hold!" it cried.

  Arvin caused the dagger to vanish back into his enchanted glove and turned, but the command wasn't for him. The two armored men who had appeared in the plaza from out of nowhere had their eyes firmly locked on the yuan-ti. Both wore breastplates of brightly polished steel, each emblazoned with the blue eye that marked them as clerics of Helm. Their helmets were without visors, leaving their faces bare. Crimson cloaks hung from their shoulders. Their gauntleted fists were empty; amazingly, neither seemed to be armed.

  "You," one of the clerics ordered, pointing at the yuan-ti. "Step away from that woman."

  The yuan-ti turned slowly. His lips twitched into a false smile, the effect of which was spoiled by the forked tongue that flickered in and out of his mouth. "I was robbed," he said. He pointed at the young rogue. "By that human."

  The second cleric strode over to where the young rogue knelt and took hold of the boy's cloak, dragging him to his feet. "Did you steal from this…" The cleric hesitated, then glanced at the yuan-ti as if uncertain what to call him. "From this gentleman?" he concluded.

  The rogue shook his head, but the cleric raised his left hand, turning the eye on the palm of his gauntlet toward the boy. The boy nodded. "Yes," he said in a broken voice. "I stole from him. But I gave back what I took. And he blinded me."

  The crowd, recovered from its earlier panic, drifted back into the plaza. The yuan-ti drew himself up, imperiously wrapping his cloak around himself. "Take the human away," he ordered, pointing at the rogue. "Throw him in the pit." He began to slither back to the ship.

  "Not so fast," the first cleric said, stepping between the yuan-ti and the stairs. He turned to the woman the yuan-ti had been menacing. "Did he harm you, miss?"

  Before the young woman could speak, the yuan-ti gave an irritated hiss. "Step aside," he told the cleric. "Step aside, human, or it will go badly for you. I am an important person. I will not be trifled with. Step… aside."

  Arvin felt the hairs on his arms raise, as if he'd just shivered. Once again, the yuan-ti was using his innate magic-this time, in an attempt to bend the cleric to his will. In another moment the cleric would either step obediently aside-or would feel the sharp sting of the yuan-ti's bite.

  Ignoring the yuan-ti's order, the cleric raised his gauntlet and turned its eye toward the woman. He stood, waiting for her answer.

  "He bit me," she replied. "By Helm's grace, my cloak stopped his fangs. If it hadn't, I'd be…" She shuddered, unable to say the word.

  The spectators crowded forward, calling out to the two clerics.

  "I saw the whole thing…"

  "The boy did give the jewelry case back…" "The yuan-ti spat in his eyes…"

  "It was a silver case. It's in the serpent man's pocket…"

  The yuan-ti's eyes darted right then left. Slowly he raised his hand. Acid trickled down his palm; he was about to use the same trick he'd used to blind the rogue. Arvin opened his mouth to call out a warningNo need. The cleric neatly sidestepped the flick of acid. A weapon appeared in his fist-a translucent mace that glowed with an intense white light. He used it to knock the yuan-ti's hand aside. The blow was no more than a light tap, but as soon as the mace touched the yuan-ti, his body became rigid. He stood, paralyzed, his eyes wide, the tips of his forked tongue protruding from his mouth, so still and silent that Arvin wondered if he was still breathing.

  The cleric's glowing mace disappeared.

  "That'll teach him," the man beside Arvin said-the fellow who had grabbed his arm earlier.

  "What will they do with him?" Arvin asked him. "Throw him in prison."

  Arvin's eyebrows rose. "But he's a yuan-ti."

  The other man shrugged. "So?"

  "But…" At last it sank in. In Sespech, the yuan-ti were afforded no special status. Arvin had heard this-but witnessing it firsthand made his mind reel. It was as if sky and earth had switched places, leaving him dizzy. With the realization came a rush of satisfaction that bent his lips into a smile.

  "Intention to kill," the stout man continued. "That's what they'll charge the yuan-ti with. If he pleads guilty and shows repentance, the Eyes of Helm may allow him to make atonement. If not, he'll be branded with a mark of justice. If he tries to bite or blind anyone again, he'll suffer a curse-as foul a curse as Helm can bestow."

  Arvin whistled softly, glad the clerics hadn't seen his raised dagger. He watched as the second cleric placed a gauntleted hand on the rogue's head and chanted a prayer.

  "And the boy?" Arvin asked.

  The cleric's prayer ended. The rogue blinked, looked around with eyes that had been fully restored, and fell to his knees, weeping. His right hand raised above his head, he broke into fervent prayer.

  Once again, the man beside him shrugged. "He'll probably be released, since he seems to have genuinely repented."

  Arvin shook his head, incredulous. "But he's-" Then

  he thought better of what he'd been about to say. The young rogue could no more cast off his guild-and its obligations-than he could shed his own skin. But if Arvin said this aloud, the fellow next to him might think back to Arvin's earlier actions and draw some conclusions that could bode ill for Arvin. It was bad enough that Arvin had drawn his dagger. He should have been more careful and stuck to his psionics. "-a thief," he concluded.

  "Yes," the man said. As he spoke, he scratched his left elbow with the first two fingers of his right hand-probably the local sign for guild.

  Arvin pretended not to see the gesture. The last thing he needed was to get enmeshed in the web of the local rogues' guild. He clenched his left hand, and the ache of his abbreviated little finger-the one the Hlondeth Guild had cut the tip from-enforced his resolve. This time, he'd stay clean. The whole point in coming to Sespech was to make a fresh start.

  "And the gauntlet?" Arvin asked. "Can anyone use it?"

  "Anyone. Even thieves. It shields the petitionary from blows, weapons-even spells that cause harm. But not," the man added with a twinkle in his eye, "against justice. Use it carefully, if you've committed a crime."

  "Sound advice," Arvin replied. "But I don't intend to commit any."

  He watched as one of the clerics laid a hand on the paralyzed yuan-ti and spoke a prayer. An instant later they both vanished; snowflakes swirled in agitation in the spot their bodies had just occupied. The second cleric touched the young rogue gently on the shoulder then- waved him away, dismissing him. Then he, too, teleported away.

  The snow continued to fall, dusting the ground with a thin layer of white. The crowd began to disperse. The man beside Arvin shivered. "Need a place to stay, friend?" he asked. "That's my inn over there: Lurgin's Lodgings."

  Arvin shook his head. "Thanks, but no. I'm just passing through Mimph. I hope to catch a boat for Ormpetarr this afternoon."

  The man placed a cupped hand over his heart. "As you wish."

  Arvin turned and walked away, still awed by the treatment the yuan-ti had received.

  He was going to like it in Sespech.

  CHAPTER 2

  Arvin squinted, trying to peer through the falling snow. He'd never seen it fall so thickly; usually the lands surrounding the Vilhon Reach received no more than a sporadic, wet slush that quickly melted. This winter, however, had seen more than one snowfall like this one; the thick, fluffy snowflakes had piled up ankle-deep.

  Despite the snow, the wagon in which Arvin rode was making good time a
s it crossed the frozen fields east of Mimph-though Arvin wondered how the driver could see where he was going. Arvin could see no more than a few paces in any direction; beyond that was only the occasional dark blur-thin and tall if it was a tree, short and squat if it was a cottage.

  The driver, a dwarf with a thick red beard, stared resolutely ahead over the backs of the two horses that drew the wagon. He gave the reins an occasional flick or clucked to the animals, encouraging them to keep up their pace. The only other sounds were the crunch of wheel's on snow and the tinkling of the tiny bells that hung from the horses' braided manes. Steam rose from their backs, mingling with the swirling snow.

  Arvin tucked the heavy wool blanket tightly around his chest and legs and shivered. He was able to block out discomfort while performing his asanas, but not for a whole afternoon at a stretch. The cold bit at his ears and nose and caused a throbbing ache in his abbreviated little finger, and the snowflakes settling on his shoulders and drifting down into his collar chilled him further. He glanced across at the wagon's only other passenger, wondering how she could be so comfortable. Her own blanket was loosely draped about her knees, and she wasn't hugging herself, as Arvin was. Her winter cloak was open at the neck, and she hadn't bothered to brush away the snowflakes that dusted her long black hair. She stared over Arvin's shoulder at the snow-blurred landscape that fell away behind them. Judging by her dusky skin, she came from the warm lands to the south and shouldn't be used to cold. Her breath, like his, fogged the air. Yet she looked as comfortable as i f she were sitting beside a crackling fire. Arvin decided she must have magic that helped her to endure the cold. Maybe that bulge under the glove on her right hand was a magical ring.