'Perhaps,' Arvin said. 'If not, safe journey.' He turned and walked swiftly away. Thank the gods that it was dark. The night's gloom hid his face-and, most important, the lapis lazuli on his forehead. He spoke the word that would loosen it and peeled it from his skin. Then he vanished it inside his magical glove. He ducked around the corner of the building, his heart still pounding at his narrow escape. Why hadn't the sixth sense that had been plaguing him, ever since he'd begun a serious study of psionics under Tanju, given him any warning that the person he most feared was lurking within the inn? All his premonitions could do, it seemed, was give him unsettling glimpses of the dangers that other people faced. The vision he'd had on the ship-of a sailor falling from the ratlines and snapping his neck on the deck below-was a prime example.
Keeping low to avoid being spotted through the inn's windows, he made his way to the rear of the building. What now?
Every instinct screamed at him to flee, to put as much distance between himself and Zelia as possible. Should he steal a wagon and return to Mimph? Or maybe try for Fort Arran? He stared at the falling snow and realized he would only get lost in the darkness.
No, there were only two ways out: as a passenger on one of the wagons back to Mimph or on tomorrow morning's riverboat. Either way, he'd have to be careful
not to be spotted. If by wagon, he could hide overnight in the stables then board at the last moment after making certain Zelia wasn't also catching a wagon back to Mimph. Bundled in a heavy blanket, he'd be indistinguishable from any other passenger. There was always the risk that some stable hand or driver would find him in the stables, but he could give the simple excuse of not having enough coin for an inn, and charm the fellow into agreeing to let him sleep in a stall.
If by riverboat, he'd also have to find a way to board without Zelia seeing him.
Two men were approaching-the sailors who had been mounting the repeating crossbows on the boat earlier. Fortunately, the snow was still falling. Screened by its mottled white curtain, Arvin stepped into the shadows at the rear of the Eelgrass Inn and watched the men enter another of the inns. He glanced at the boat they'd just come from. Of the dozen tied up to the piers, it was the only one with a guard-Arvin could see him moving on the boat's raised stern, beside a dull red glow that must be a brazier. The guard obviously wasn't going anywhere, which meant the riverboat had cargo loaded on board. It was the one that would sail in the morning. It would be an easy matter for Arvin to use his psionics to distract the guard then slip into the hold and hide. That would ensure that Zelia wouldn't see him. Then, with Tymora's blessing, Arvin would be on his way to Ormpetarr. Zelia would never even know that he'd nearly blundered into the inn where she was staying.
Unless she, too, was planning on leaving by riverboat.
Arvin couldn't very well hide in the hold for the whole of the two-day journey to Ormpetarr. He had to know whether Zelia was planning on being aboard the riverboat tomorrow morning. More important, he needed to learn what she was doing here. Had she heard
that Arvin was alive and on his way to Ormpetarr, then positioned herself at the one place he was sure to pass through on his way there?
In order to find the answers to his questions, Arvin had to take a risk.
A very big risk.
Taking a deep breath, he placed a hand on the rough wooden wall next to him. He withdrew into himself, drawing his consciousness first into the 'third eye' at the center of his forehead and deeper, into the spot at the base of his throat. Tightly coiled swirls of energy were unleashed in each location; a heartbeat later he heard the low droning noise that accompanied his manifestations of this power. Silver motes of light sparkled in his vision then flared out around him, sputtering into invisibility as they moved away from him.
They penetrated the walls of the inn. Following them with his consciousness, Arvin quested about mentally, looking for the distinctive disturbances that accompanied the use of psionics. He found none. At the moment, Zelia was not manifesting any of her powers.
Thus reassured, Arvin shifted his consciousness away from his throat and into a spot at the base of his scalp. Energy awakened there with a prickling that raised the hairs on the back of his neck as he manifested a second psionic power. Once again, the silver sparkles erupted around him. He sent his consciousness into the inn a second time, searching, this time, for thoughts. He skipped lightly from one patron of the inn to the next. Strangely, he could not locate Karrell-had she left the inn without Arvin spot' ing her? But Zelia's mind, powerful as it was, rose above the others. Catching his breath, he listened.
She wasn't thinking about him. Instead her thoughts were focused, impatiently, on someone she was waiting for: a male-someone who couldn't come inside the inn, for some reason. This someone probably wouldn't
arrive for another day or so, given the unusually snowy weather. She was stuck here until he arrived, and she wasn't happy about it. But all she could do was wait. He would send her a message as soon as he was in the vicinity ofArvin felt Zelia's thoughts jerk to a sudden halt. There was a faint tinkling noise at the edges of her awareness-the secondary display of the power Arvin was manifesting. Zelia focused on it. Someone was trying to contact her. Was it-?
Instantly, Arvin disengaged. He scrambled away from the Eelgrass Inn, putting as much distance between himself and Zelia as possible. The power that allowed a psion to detect manifestations in his or her vicinity had a limited range, typically no more than twenty paces. Likewise the power that allowed a psion to detect thoughts-a power Zelia also had.
Only after he'd slipped and staggered through the snow and put a hundred paces between himself and the inn did Arvin slow to a walk. Panting, he looked nervously around. That had been close. 'Nine lives,' he whispered, touching the crystal al that hung at his throat. The power stone, a gift from his mother, was long since used up. He wore it on a thong about his throat for sentimental reasons only. But old habits died hard.
Listening in on Zelia's thoughts had nearly alerted her to his presence. It had been worth it, though. It seemed that Zelia's presence here was a coincidence. She wasn't looking for him. Not yet, anyway.
Unfortunately, Arvin had gleaned neither a name nor a description of the fellow Zelia was waiting for. Now he had to watch out not only for Zelia, but for her ally, as well. But at least it sounded as if the fellow wouldn't be here tonight. Arvin could take a room at an inn, wait until just before dawn, then slip aboard a riverboat and be out of here, leaving Zelia behind.
Of course, that didn't mean that she wouldn't drop whatever she was doing and come slithering after Arvin, once she learned that he wasn't dead, after all. Which she would quickly realize, if Karrell mentioned the name 'Vin' and 'rope' within earshot of Zelia.
If only Arvin knew which room Karrell was staying in, he might be able to prevent her from giving him away. One charm-let's see how she liked being on the receiving end-would see to that. Trouble was she didn't seem to be in the Eelgrass Inn. And he couldn't very well go around using his psionics to search for her. That would be certain to attract Zelia's attention. It would be like dangling a live mouse in front of a snake. No, it would be better to save his psionic energies in case he needed to mount a defense against Zelia-futile though that defense would be.
If Zelia did discover him, Arvin was a dead man. He knew Zelia nearly as well as she knew herself. The mind seed that had been lodged in his head for six days had seen to that. If there was one thing Zelia savored, it was vengeance. Exacting it upon a human who had thwarted her would be especially sweet. She'd stop at nothing to obtain it. Not to mention the fact that he knew more about her-and her secret dealings-than anyone else in Hlondeth, save perhaps, for Lady Dediana. Arvin knew a number of details that Zelia would kill to keep secret: the identities of several of the mind seeds that served as her spies, for example.
He toyed, for a brief moment, with the thought of sneaking into Zelia's room. He could lay in wait for her, attack her when and where she least expected it. But he quickly rejected that idea. The last time he'd tried to get the drop on Zelia, he'd failed miserably, even after springing several magical surprises on her-surprises he didn't have at his disposal, this time. No, he'd do better to sneak away, instead, and pray-pray hard-that Zelia would finish her business at Riverboat
Landing and depart without ever knowing that their paths had crossed.
At least, Arvin thought, he had one thing in his favor if Zelia did find him: the power that Tanju had taught him, shortly before Arvin had departed for Sespech. Using it, Arvin could link the fates of any two individuals. While it was active, if one was injured, the other would be, too. If one died, so would the other. Or, at the very least-in the case of extremely powerful spellcasters or magical creatures-the other would be seriously reduced in power.
Knowing that Zelia would be severely debilitated or even die if she killed him was cold comfort, but it was the
