pace and nodding her goodbyes to those she passed, but hissing softly under her breath as she went. Arvin followed on his knees, which were already sore despite the trousers that padded them. He wondered how the slave children could stand it, scuffing about on bare knees all day long. He supposed they got used to it, just as he’d gotten used to cramped and blistered fingers when he was a child.
When they reached the corridor, Zelia quickened her pace. Arvin leaped to his feet and trotted after her then waited while she pulled on sandals and a dress scaled with tiny, overlapping ovals of silver. After she had dressed, she led him down a ramp and out onto the street.
They walked uphill for some time past enormous mansions. Human servants and slaves hurried through the streets, intent upon their masters’ business, but parted quickly to make way for Zelia when they saw her coming. The yuan-ti who lived in this part of Hlondeth strolled leisurely along the viaducts that arched above, enjoying the view out over the city walls and the harbor.
As he jostled his way through the crowd that quickly closed in Zelia’s wake, Arvin wondered why she had chosen the street-level, more crowded route. Perhaps because she wanted to avoid having to stop and chat with other yuan-ti, or perhaps because she didn’t want any of those above getting a close look at the human who was accompanying her.
Zelia at last turned off the street and ascended a narrow ramp that spiraled up the side of a tower that was several stories tall. Arvin followed her. The roof of the tower turned out to be flat. It was surrounded by a wrought- iron railing covered in flowering vines. Bees droned lazily among tiny blue flowers. Arvin wondered if the tower was Zelia’s home-if so, she certainly came from a wealthy family. She paused at the top of the ramp to unlock a gate with a key taken from a belt purse at her hip. The gate squeaked open under her touch.
Arvin followed her through the gate into what turned out to be a rooftop garden. On the rooftop were several enormous clay pots, planted with shrubs that had been carefully clipped into shapes reminiscent of coiled serpents. The bushes had obviously been grafted together from several different plants; the colors of the flowers changed abruptly at several points along the length of each coil, mimicking the banded pattern of a snake.
At the center of the rooftop was a fountain. Its gentle splashes filled the air with a cool mist. Arvin wet his dry lips, wishing he could take a sip of the water. Perhaps that would help the headache that was still throbbing in his temples. This was probably one fountain the Pox wouldn’t be able to get to, but still…
Zelia closed the gate behind them. “We’ll have privacy here,” she said.
Arvin nodded uneasily as the gate’s lock clicked shut. Despite the vines that screened the railing, he’d noted the intricate pattern of its metalwork. The wrought iron formed an inscription, which, judging by the one character Arvin could make out, was written in Draconic. Arvin couldn’t read Draconic but had once painstakingly memorized a handful of its characters so that he could include them in his knotwork. It was a language well suited for sorcery. He hoped-and this hope was reinforced by Zelia’s assurance of privacy-that whatever magic the rail worked was designed to keep people out, rather than in.
Zelia turned to him and spoke without preamble. “Tell me what happened.”
Arvin did, describing how he’d spotted the cultist in the street, and then he told her everything that had followed from there. He expected Zelia to raise her eyebrows when he told her his conclusions about what the Pox were up to-tainting Hlondeth’s water supply-but she merely nodded. If anything, she seemed slightly disappointed by what he’d just told her.
“The cultist said Talona would purge the city ‘soon,’ ” Arvin noted. “I don’t think he’d have gloated that way if they planned to taint the water supply months from now. It sounded as though they were going to put their plan into action within a tenday, at most. I hope that will give you time to-”
Zelia held up a hand, interrupting him. “Your conclusions are… interesting,” she said. “I suppose time will prove whether they’re correct.”
Arvin frowned, not understanding Zelia’s apparent lack of concern. “Humans aren’t the only ones who drink from the public fountains,” he told her. “Not all yuan-ti live in mansions with private wells. Some are sure to quench their thirst at the fountains, and though they may be immune to poison, they can still die of plague-and spread it to others. Unless…” He paused, as a thought suddenly occurred to him. Did Zelia know something that he didn’t? Did yuan-ti have a natural immunity to plague, as well as poison?
Even if they did, a city with ninety-five percent of its population ill or dying wouldn’t serve their interests.
When Arvin reminded her of this fact, Zelia gave him a cold smile. “I am well aware of the role humans play in Hlondeth,” she told him. “And I agree. The cultists must be stopped.”
Arvin nodded, relieved. It was out of his hands. He could step back and let Zelia-and the powerful people who backed her-deal with the crisis from here on in.
“I suppose it will be a simple matter of stationing militia at every public drinking fountain and arresting the cultists as they appear,” he said, thinking out loud. “Or are you going to try to capture them before they make their move?”
“Capturing them will only solve part of the problem,” Zelia said. “The cultists are just one playing piece in a much larger game. I still need to find out who is behind them.”
Arvin frowned. “If you stop them, will it matter?”
“Someone wants to upset the balance of power,” Zelia said. “My job is to discover who. Find that out-and you’ll earn your freedom. And all that I promised you earlier.”
Arvin nodded. He’d expected her to say that. Why remove the mind seed when it was such an effective tool? “I have an idea that might help me to infiltrate the Pox-once we find them,” he told her. “The cultist who died today in my warehouse used magic to alter his appearance, but I got a good look at his face after he dropped the spell. If I described him to you, perhaps you could use your psionics to alter my appearance. I could pass myself off as him and-”
“You would never be able to carry it off,” Zelia said. “One false gesture or word, and the Pox would use their magic to see you as you truly are. You will have to present yourself as you are-or rather, as how they want to see you: someone who survived their draught of plague and now wants to join their cult.”
Arvin grimaced. He’d been afraid she’d say that. “Won’t they also have magic that will allow them to see through my lies?” he asked, thinking back to the spells the clerics at the orphanage had used.
“If you choose your words carefully, you won’t have to lie,” Zelia told him. “A cleverly worded half-truth-plus a little charm-will carry you a long way.”
Arvin nodded. That much, at least, was true. “Have you been able to locate the chamber I told you about?”
“I think so,” Zelia told him. “Or at least, I’ve located a chamber in the sewers that matches the description you gave.”
Arvin wet his lips nervously. Finally he would be able to find out whether Naulg was alive-or dead. “Did you see my friend there, or… his body?”
“The chamber was empty. But the cultists may return to it at Middark, the time they seem to prefer for their sacrifices.”
Arvin nodded. “Where is it?”
Zelia ignored his question. “Until then, you will wait here with me. As Middark approaches, I will begin observing the chamber. As soon as I see any activity, you can set out.”
Arvin chafed, wishing he could just get this over with-but he could see that Zelia wasn’t going to tell him where the chamber was until she was good and ready. In the meantime, he needed to prepare. He hadn’t exactly gone to the Solarium ready for an excursion into the sewers. If he was going to confront the Pox, he’d need to equip himself.
“There’re some items I’ll need,” he told Zelia. “If I promise to meet you back here at Sunset, can I go and get them?”
Zelia stared at him for several long moments, hissing softly to herself. Silver flashed in her eyes as they caught the sun. “Go,” she told him, unlocking the gate. “Purchase your potions, but don’t be late.”
Arvin was halfway down the ramp before what she’d just said sank in.
He hadn’t told her he intended to buy potions…
Not out loud, anyway.
23 Kythorn, Sunset
