with poison even as they spoke. Arvin was tempted to tell Darris what he thought of him but knew his words wouldn't change anything. The half-elf was a typical rogue; all he cared about was himself.
Darris released the wagon's brake, then paused. 'If the doomsayer really is yuan-ti, you'd better watch yourself.'
'I've dealt with them before.'
Darris grinned. 'I'll bet you have, and… thanks for the warning.' He touched a thumb to his temple, then closed his other fist around it. I'll remember you.
He flicked the reins. The cart rumbled off down the hill, back in the direction of Hlondeth.
Arvin could feel, once more, the faint tickle in his forehead that warned him that magic was being used
to search for him. The iron serpent must have been drawing nearer. He'd wasted too much time already.
But before he left, there was something he needed to do.
He sent his awareness deep into his muladhara. You don't see me, he mentally told the Talos worshipers. I'm invisible.
They continued going about their evening tasks, pulling food from their packs, tending the cooking fire and gathering water from the aqueduct in worn- looking iron pots. One or two turned to watch the cart as it left. As they did Arvin slipped an image into each of their minds of himself, seated next to Darris. Meanwhile, he picked his way carefully over the uneven ground toward the but the yuan-ti had disappeared into.
She had hung a cloth over the entrance of the hut, preventing him from simply looking inside. The but itself proved to be of better construction than the rest. Arvin couldn't find any gaps between the stones to peer through. That didn't matter, however. Retreating to a spot where the trees screened him from sight-he didn't need to be close to manifest the power he had in mind-he allowed himself to become visible again and imagined the interior of the hut. Psionic energy spiraled into the power points in his throat and forehead and a low droning filled the air around him as silver sparkled out of his 'third eye.' He sent his awareness drifting with it in the direction of the hut.
Slowly, its interior came into focus.
Thessania was pouring one of the jugs of wine into a wooden bowl. The other two jugs lay empty on the ground beside her. She must have been certain none of the worshipers would disturb her; she'd pushed her cowl back, revealing a hairless scalp covered in vivid orange and yellow scales. She had no ears, just
holes in the side of her head. She had also removed her gloves; the scales covered her hands and fingers as well.
She set the empty jug down and rummaged inside her travel bag, then pulled out a glass vial containing an ink-black liquid. Unstoppering it, she poured a drop onto her finger, then stroked it along her wrist like a woman applying perfume. After repeating the application on her other wrist, she poured a few drops of the liquid into the wine. That done, she raised first one wrist to her mouth then the other.
At first, Arvin thought she was sniffing her perfume. Then he saw a drop of blood fall into the wine and realized she'd bitten herself. Thessania squeezed each wrist, milking herself of blood. As it dribbled into the bowl, the wine turned a vivid green. Thessania bent low, sniffing it, and licked her wrists clean. Then she spat into whatever the wine had become.
She pushed the stopper back into the vial-very little of the black liquid had been used-then pulled on her gloves. As she adjusted her cowl, Arvin skimmed quickly through the thoughts of the worshipers, searching for those who already had doubts about the stormmistress. From these he gloaned their names and a handful of recent experiences he hoped might be useful. By the time Thessania emerged from the hut, holding the bowl of wine, Arvin was ready. He stepped out of the forest and thew a mental shield between himself and the yuan-ti-who immediately turnod in his direction as soon as she heard the droning of his secondary display.
'Worshipers of Talos,' Arvin shouted. 'You have been deceived.'
Thessania bared her teeth in what would have been a hiss, had she not checked herself in time. She sent a wave of magical fear rushing toward Arvin, but his psionic shield deflected it.
'Thessania is no stormmistress,' Arvin continued.
Thessania's charm spell hit him next. 'Poor man,' she said. 'The sun has addled your wits. You don't know me; we've never met before. You have mistaken my voice for that of someone else. Come and drink wine with us.'
Arvin's mental shield held. He needed to speak quickly. Once Tessalia realized her charm had failed, she would start tossing clerical spells at him.
'I may be blind,' Arvin said, 'blind as Talos's left eye, but by the god's magic I can still see.' Silver sparkles- bright as the stars reputed to whirl in the empty space behind the Storm Lord's eyepatcherupted from Arvin's forehead as he sent a thread of his awareness inside the hut. He pointed at one of the men, a tall fellow with bright red hair. 'You wonder, Menzin, what Thessania was doing in the hut.'
Arvin wrapped the invisible thread around the vial and lifted it into the air. With a yank, he pulled it out of the hut.
'She was adding poison to your wine.'
Thessania whirled and spotted the vial. Bright green wine slopped over tho edge of the bowl, staining her glove. Arvin sent the vial crashing against the wall of the hut, shattering it. Poison dribbled down the stonework like black blood.
The worshipers stared at it. Menzin muttered something to the man next to him.
'Ridiculous!' Thessania said. 'Smell it-that's my perfume.'
They did, and turned, glowering, toward Arvin.
Thessania pointed a slender finger at him. 'This man has been sent by the Prince of Lies to stir up mistrust and strife among us. Don't listen to him.'
'Cyric didn't send me,' Arvin said, naming the god he'd frequently been warned about by the priests at
the orphanage. He wove the name of Ilmater's chief ally into the lie: 'Tyr did. The god of justice has allied himself with Talos to expose Thessania's trickery.'
'The Raging God stands alone,' said Thessania. 'He allies with no one.'
'Save for Auril, Malar, and Umberlee,' Arvin said, hurling back the deity names he'd plucked from one of the worshiper's thoughts. 'Though Malar would turn on the other Gods of Fury if he could-would send one of his beast minions sneaking like a serpent into Talos's tower to slay the Storm Lord, if he dared.'
'Deceit!' Thessania cried. 'More lies!'
She spat, and the glob of poisonous spittle hurtled through the air toward Arvin.
He imposed a psionic hand in front of it just before it struck, and smiled as it splattered on the leaves behind him. Thessania had moved precisely the playing piece he'd hoped she would.
He addressed one of the female worshipers-a thin woman who stared at him with narrowed eyes. 'You've been wondering, Yivril, why your storm- mistress didn't smite the blasphemer in Ormath with a lightning bolt.'
The worshiper's eyes widened.
'Odd, isn't it, that she's not hurling one at me now,' Arvin continued. 'Instead she's spitting at me… like a snake.'
With that, he used his manifestation to yank back Thessania's cowl.
Some of the worshipers gasped; others gaped in open-mouthed silence.
'It's an illusion,' Thessania cried, yanking at her cowl. 'Pay it no heed!'
Several of the worshipers began babbling at once. 'So that's why she refused to-'
'I thought it was strange that-'
'We've been tricked!' Menzin shouted, lunging at Thessania and knocking the bowl from her hands. 'She's a yuan-ti!'
Spitting with fury, Thessania bit him.
Menzin collapsed, gasping, his lips already blue. The other worshipers, however, were not easily cowed. A handful were driven back by Thessania's magical fear, but the rest mobbed her. Arvin caught a glimpse of Thessania shifting to snake form in an attempt to get away, but then Yivril rushed forward, a chunk of broken stone in her hand. She smashed it down on Thessania's clothes. Even from where he stood, Arvin could hear the crunch of bones breaking.
Satisfied, he slipped away into the woods. As he did, he touched the crystal at his throat. 'Nine lives,' he
