conversation around him and drinking in the scent from the flower baskets that lined the Terrace. It was a welcome change from the sewer stink he’d been floundering around in lately. He dozed.
A chair scuffed. Arvin opened his eyes to find Drin sitting across the table from him. The potion seller looked worried, as always. His narrow face with its deep vertical grooves between his eyebrows gave him a perpetual frown. His wrists were narrow and his fingers long-that and the slight point to his ears suggested that there might be a wood elf hiding in the branches of his family tree. He smiled at Arvin-a quick twitch of his lips-and leaned forward. “You wanted to speak to me?”
Arvin nodded and spoke in a low voice. “Do you have anything that can undo mind-influencing magic?”
“Clerical magic or wizardry?”
“Neither,” Arvin answered.
Drin’s eyebrows raised. “Then what-”
“Do you know what a psion is?”
Drin gave him a guarded look. “I’ve heard of them. They cast ‘mind magic.’ ”
“That’s right. I want something that will block a psionic power.”
Drin thought a moment. “There’s no ‘tea’ that does that. None that I know of,” he said. He glanced around then dropped his voice to a whisper. “But I think there might be a ring that blocks such spells.”
“Would it work against one that’s already been cast?”
“I’m not sure. It’s not my area of expertise.”
Arvin wet his lips. “Could you obtain a ring like that for me?”
Drin shrugged. “Maybe. But it would take time to find out. The… merchant I need to speak to won’t be back in Hlondeth for at least a month.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “The druids have been busy.”
Arvin drummed his fingers on the table in frustration. Coming to Drin had been a long shot-a gamble that hadn’t paid off. But perhaps Drin could tell him something about the potion the Pox were using-something that might help Naulg. Assuming Arvin was able to find him again, that was.
“One other thing,” Arvin said. “There’s a ‘tea’ that I’m trying to find out more about. A very rare blend. It comes in an unusual container-a small metal flask that’s shaped like the rattle of a snake. Do you know anything about it?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you,” Drin said. “I’ve never heard of a tea like that.”
The guarded look was back in Drin’s eyes; the potion seller was lying. “Listen, Drin,” Arvin said, dropping his voice to a whisper. “A friend of mine
The wary look in Drin’s eyes softened. He leaned forward and scooped up the coins. “Let’s move to a quieter table,” he said. “One where we won’t be overheard.”
Arvin smiled.
They moved to a table at the back of the Terrace, well away from the other customers. When they settled into their chairs, Drin continued. “I can’t tell you much,” he said. “I’ve only seen a flask like that once before, in a ‘teashop’ in Skullport, a few months ago. The man behind the counter said it came from the Serpent Hills.”
Arvin hissed softly to himself. The Serpent Hills lay far to the northeast, up near the great desert. Once the area had been the seat of a mighty kingdom, but now the yuan-ti who lived in those desolate hills were forced to ally with lesser reptilian races just to survive. The yuan-ti kept vowing to retake what had once been the capital of their kingdom, but the humans who had unwittingly encamped upon the ruins stood in their…
Arvin shivered, suddenly uneasy. Once again, the information had come from nowhere; it had just popped into his mind. He had never traveled beyond Hlondeth, yet he was able to picture the hills, the river that wound its way between them, and the enormous stone arch that spanned it-part of a coil that reached from one bank to the other…
He wrenched his mind back to the present. “How much do you know about the potion the flask contained?” he asked Drin.
“Only what the seller told me. That whoever drank it would be able to perform ‘mind magic’ that would duplicate a yuan-ti’s innate magical abilities.” He paused, and the creases in his brow deepened still further. “I sensed that there was something he wasn’t telling me, but I was still interested in buying.”
“Did you?” Arvin asked.
Drin shook his head. “I was outbid by another buyer, a yuan-ti slaver by the name of Ssarmn. Apparently he’s someone big in Skullport-someone you don’t refuse. The seller told me I shouldn’t be angry at being cut out of the deal, because the potion had an additional, undesirable effect on humans. It turned them into yuan-ti. Permanently. And there was more. Once the potion took effect, anyone who was transformed by it would unquestioningly obey any true yuan-ti who happened to give orders.”
Drin sat back in his chair and shrugged. “I thought the seller was trying to pacify me, so he wouldn’t lose my business; we’ve had dealings with each other for years. But maybe he was telling the truth. Is that what happened to your friend? Did he sprout a tail and grow scales?”
“Nothing so obvious as that,” Arvin said. “At least, not yet. His saliva turned venomous, but otherwise he appears human.”
Drin stared at Arvin then nodded. “Where did he get the potion?”
“He was forced to drink it. By a cleric.”
“One of Sseth’s?”
Arvin shook his head. “No. The cleric was human.”
“Why did he force your friend to drink it, then? Did he think it would make your friend obey him?”
“I’m not sure,” Arvin said. He thought back to what Kayla had said about the old sailor-about him instantly obeying the cultist’s command to attack. That compulsion could equally have been produced by a clerical spell. If what Drin had just said was true-if the potion in the rattle-shaped flasks compelled its victims to obey yuan-ti, but not humans-Naulg wouldn’t necessarily be a mindless servant of the Pox. Arvin just might be able to free him, even with the potion in Naulg’s system.
Unless a yuan-ti showed up at an inopportune moment.
Arvin was starting to have a clearer picture of what was going on-and why Osran Extaminos was involved. He was tricking the Pox into transforming the humans of Hlondeth into his willing servants. With an army of thousands at his disposal, Osran could easily snatch the throne away from his sister and would wind up ruling a city filled with complacent citizens.
A city of slaves.
“Did the seller in Skullport say whether there was a countermeasure that could negate the potion?” Arvin asked. “A counter-potion, for example?”
Drin shook his head. “If there is, I don’t know of it.”
Arvin sat back, disappointed. He wet his lips. “Thanks for the information,” he told Drin.
The potion seller rose to his feet. “Glad to give it,” he said, giving Arvin a knowing wink. “I hope it helps your ‘friend.’ ”
CHAPTER 12
24 Kythorn, Evening
Arvin walked through the night with his hands thrust into his trouser pockets, oblivious to the people who passed him on the narrow streets. At long last he had the information Zelia wanted, but he couldn’t give it to her, thanks to the geas Nicco had placed on him. Nor was he any closer to finding Naulg. None of his contacts in the Guild had seen the Pox, or heard any word of them-or smelled them.
In a short time-it was fast approaching Middark-the rebels would be making their assassination attempt on Osran Extaminos. Arvin toyed briefly with the idea of trying to reach Osran first, to see if he could charm information about the Pox out of the yuan-ti prince. But trying to sneak into the palace on the same night as an assassination attempt would be nothing short of suicidal.
