Viper's kiss hos-2

by Lisa Smedman

  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 poin
ting 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 mot
her 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.