It wasn't. As Arvin climbed, it remained coiled at the base of the wall, hissing softly, bathed in a faint green light from the glowing stones. It flared its hood and watched with ember-red eyes as Arvin climbed to the top of the wall and hauled himself onto the battlements. Then it turned and slithered back up the alley.
Arvin stood, panting, hands on knees. 'Nine lives,' he whispered, touching the crystal at his neck.
From inside the city came distant screams and more explosions. A militia member ran toward him along the wall, sword in hand. The soldier's flared helmet and scale armor reminded Arvin of the serpent he'd narrowly escaped.
'Out of the way!' the soldier shouted as he shoved past Arvin.
He clattered down a staircase a short distance beyond. Then he cried out in alarm. Arvin heard the clash of metal on metal-a single clang-then a thud as something heavy hit the street below. He straightened, wary. A heartbeat later, a metal head rose from the staircase and looked around. The iron cobra.
Cursing, Arvin clambered over the far side of the wall. He climbed down as quickly as he could, but the smooth green stones had been designed to offer little to grip, even to someone with a magical bracelet. Above him, Arvin heard a rasping noise as the iron cobra slithered through a slit in the battlements. Realizing it was about to drop on him, Arvin shoved off the wall, twisting as he fell. He landed awkwardly, crashing down onto hands and knees in a tangle of gourd vines. As he scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over one of the large, rock-hard gourds, he heard a thump behind him and a soft, metallic hiss.
Arvin looked around. The sun was rising-it was finally light enough to see clearly-but the iron cobra was screened by the vines. It was somewhere between Arvin and the wall. If he ran right or left it would merely change course and outflank him. Arvin wished he had a magical entangling rope-the net in his backpack would work only on living flesh-or even a sturdy club or a tree to climb, but the field he'd landed in offered none of those.
As he turned, the tinglo in his forehead intensified. He smiled as he realized which direction the attack would come from. He started to sling his backpack around to the front, thinking he might be able to shove it at the serpent like a shield. Then he had a better idea. Yanking out his dagger, he slashed one of the vines and lifted the yellow gourd, holding it like a morningstar.
'Come on, you scaly bastard,' he breathed, turning in the direction the magical tingling came from. 'Come on…'
A gleam-morning sunlight on burnished iron scales-gave him a moment's warning. The iron cobra lunged up from the vines in a lightning-fast strike. Arvin whipped the gourd forward, slamming it into the serpent's head, but it was like hitting a solid metal door. The iron cobra's aim was knocked off only slightly-just enough that its teeth snagged and tore the hem of Arvin's shirt-but the blow itself didn't harm the cobra in the least. It reared back, body coiled beneath it, glowing red eyes watching the gourd, then lashed out again.
Arvin started to swing the gourd-but checked its motion, pulling the vine through his hand until the gourd was against his fist. He punched it into the cobra's gaping mouth, forcing the gourd down its throat. Metal fangs scraped along the gourd, then hooked fast. The vine was yanked through Arvin's fingers as the cobra tore its head away.
The iron cobra hissed and shook its head back and forth, trying to fling the plug from its mouth. It tried to gulp down the gourd, but couldn't swallow it. The metal bands that made up its body wouldn't expand enough. It lashed its tail in fury, ripping the vines around it into a tangle.
Arvin didn't wait around to see how long it would take to get the gourd out. He plunged through the field, tripping over gourds and falling several times as vines snagged his ankles. Ahead lay the road from the city's northern gate. People streamed out of Hlondeth, fleeing the fighting that echoed within the walls.
Arvin ran toward a cart being pulled by a horse. As he closed the gap, an elegantly painted ceramic jug spilled out the back and smashed on the road in
a spray of dark red wine. The driver continued whipping his horse, trying to force it through the crowd, heedless of the missing cargo. Arvin vaulted up onto the cart and tried to find a place to stand among the rolling jugs.
The driver started to glance in Arvin's direction, then stared at something beyond him and gasped. Arvin glanced over his shoulder and saw the cobra rearing, its head level with the cart, its mouth clear. It lashed out, its fangs missing Arvin's hand by a hair's breadth. Then the cart veered off the road and into a fallow field. The horse broke into a trot, leaving the cobra behind. It followed, but the cart was moving too quickly for it to catch.
The driver of the cart turned again, met Arvin's eye, then broke into laughter. Arvin, taking a better look at him, was equally bemused. The driver was the half-elf Arvin had warned earlier, the one with the unlaced trousers. His long black hair was tangled and dusty, and one of his eyes was starting to purple. Someone must have thrown a punch at him. His trousers were laced and belted, and a thin black wand was tucked into the belt. A leather bag sat between his feet, bulging with something that clinked as the cart jostled along. Passing the whip into the hand that held the reins, he extended his left hand. Arvin took it and clambered onto the seat beside him.
'Good haul, hey?' the half-elf grinned, tipping his head at the dozens of jugs the cart held.
Arvin nodded, still panting from his mad scramble across the field.
'Was that a yuan-ti chasing you?' the driver asked.
'It was a-' Arvin paused, not really sure what it was. Better not to say too much. 'Yes,' he lied. 'I think so.'
Once they were ahead of the refugees the half-elf tugged on the reins, steering the horse back onto the road. 'I just hope whatever you got was worth it.'
'My life,' Arvin muttered, touching a finger to his crystal.
The driver grunted. 'You can call me Darris,' he said, holding out a hand.
Arvin clasped it. 'Call me Vin, and thanks for the ride.'
Danis made a circle with forefinger and thumb and flicked it open, then tapped his index fingers lightly together: It's nothing, friend.
'Where are you headed?' Arvin asked.
Darris glanced back at the city. A mansion in the noble section burned, throwing a plume of dirty gray smoke into the air. Figures struggled in combat on the viaducts. Arvin saw two tiny shapes fall, snake tails flailing, into the street below.
'Away from that,' the half-elf said at last. 'Somewhere I can stash this until things cool down.' He glanced at Arvin's abbreviated little finger and added. 'Somewhere the guild won't take their cut.'
Arvin nodded at the road that switchbacked up into the hills, toward Mount Ugruth. 'There's an old quarry about a day's journey up the aqueduct road,' he said. 'Lots of broken rock, lots of places to hide things. The Talos worshipers use it as a stopping place on their way up the mountain, and they've built some huts out of the rubble.'
'Sounds like as good a place as any,' Danis said, flicking the reins.
Arvin whispered a prayer to Tymora, thanking her for sending Darris his way. Riding in a cart, he stood an excellent chance of catching up to Pakal.
He glanced back at the city one last time. Sunlight glinted off an object that slithered along the road, causing the refugees to draw away from it in
fear. It was the iron cobra, still following him, and still producing a tickling sensation in the scar on Arvin's forehead.
'What's wrong?' Darris asked.
'It's the… yuan-ti,' Arvin said. 'He's following us.'
Darris flicked the reins again. 'Don't worry. He won't catch us, not unless he sprouts wings.'
Arvin nodded, uneasy. The metal construct might not have wings, but Sibyl did. The battle of Hlondeth was keeping her busy for the moment, but when it was over, the iron cobra would lead her straight to him.
The cart jolted to a stop. Shaken awake, Arvin rose from the space he'd cleared for himself between the jugs of wine and looked around. By the slant of the sun, it was late afternoon. They had reached the quarry. Arvin recognized the cliff that had been cut into the forested hillside, the large blocks of broken stone that littered the ground, and the crude shelters that had been built out of unmortared stone and tree branches. When he'd been there a year ago, the place had been crawling with Talos worshipers. It had since been deserted.
Arvin rubbed the scar on his forehead. The tickling sensation was gone. The iron cobra had either given up its search, or they'd left it far behind.
