Arvin flew toward it, hoping that Pakal still waited for him.
It was was middark by the time Arvin reached the temple. He spotted it by the red glow in its central courtyard. The building had been built in a square surrounding a deep fissure in the ground, one that plunged like a knife wound all the way down to Mount Ugruth's molten heart. The white marble tiles surrounding the fissure were splattered with glossy black stone: lava that had cooled and hardened. Heat hazed the air above the crack, carrying with it the smell of sulfur. The inside wall of the building surrounding the courtyard had a wide portico supported by massive pillars that glowed
a dusky red, like tree trunks in a burning forest. The rest of the building lay in shadow.
Farther up the mountain, Arvin spotted movement. He flew in that direction and saw a large group of people-about a hundred or so-climbing a narrow path that led toward the peak. Arvin swooped down lower and saw that they were Talos worshipers following a cleric-one who walked with a swaying gait. Suspicious, Arvin dipped into the cleric's thoughts.
The cleric-another yuan-ti in disguise-was leading an even larger group of worshipers to their deaths.
Not too much farther up the mountain was a large fissure, one that vented ash and poisonous fumes. The worshipers would be told to walk to its lip and breathe deeply. By breathing the fumes, they would 'embrace' Talos and prove themselves worthy of him. If any of them dared to question their cleric's orders or realized what was happening and tried to run away, the wand would take care of them, just as it had taken care of the lower-ranked clerics. One way or another, they would die.
Arvin skimmed the thoughts of the worshipers closest to the cleric, hoping to find some spark of resistance. There was none. What their god had instructed them to do, they would do, no matter how odd his command seemed. Their thoughts were sluggish, as if they had been drugged.
The cleric glanced up at Arvin. Strange, he thought. I didn't know Thessania kept a pet.
Arvin broke contact. He wheeled back in the direction of the temple, searching for Pakal along the way. There was no sign of the dwarf, just as there had been no sign of him on the road leading to the temple. Nor did Arvin see anyone else. The temple seemed to be abandoned.
No, not quite. As Arvin circled over its roof, he spotted a solitary figure standing between two
columns of the portico. Bohind him was an arch that must have been the temple's main entrance. He was a tall man, his hair and beard as black as his clerical robes. Arvin might not have noticed him save for the javelin the man held. Its point, jagged as a lightning bolt, gave off a faint shimmer of electrical energy that illuminated his face. He leaned on the weapon, using it like a staff, staring into the courtyard with an unfocused gaze.
Arvin circled overhead, once again manifesting the power that allowed him to read minds, wondering if he'd discovered another yuan-ti. He was surprised to find nothing serpentlike at all about the man's thoughts. They were very human-and very troubled. The man wondered if he'd done the right thing. Did Talos truly demand more sacrifices? Already the clergy were gone, and they were forced to use lay worshipers from distant cities. The signs were all there, it was true-the smoke that rose from Mount Ugruth's peak, the lava that had bubbled up into the courtyard, the fire that had broken out on the hillside after the lighting strike-but was sacrifice what was truly required? And of the entire flock? Talos only seemed to be getting angrier with each passing day, yet if the high stormherald himself had sent word that sacrifice was necessary, it must be so.
He couldn't help but wonder, however, if he shouldn't have communed with Talos himself, just to be sure. If only his furies hadn't insisted on being the first to die, he might have consulted with them. Perhaps he should go after Siskin, ask the newly arrived cleric to wait until…
Arvin withdrew from the man's thoughts. The cleric-the stormlord of the temple, Arvin guessed- had been duped by the yuan-ti, but his mind was still his own. If Arvin could convince him to listen, perhaps the slaughter that was about to happen on
the hillside above could be stopped. The worshipers would surely listen to their stormlord.
Arvin landed outside the temple's entrance and allowed his metamorphosis to end. His tail sprang apart and became two legs again, and his body grew as it took on human form. He flexed his muscles, getting reacquainted with the feeling of arms and legs, then used his psionics to alter his appearance slightly, creating the illusion of deep red scratches in each of his cheeks. The stormlord would be more willing to listen to a warning if it came from one of his own followers.
Arvin strode through the entrance into the courtyard, he formed a cross with his arms against his chest as he'd seen the Talus worshipers do.
'Stormlord,' he said, bowing, 'I bring urgent news. May I speak with you?'
The brooding man turned. Close up, Arvin could see more details of his appearance. The stormlord's nose was long and sharp, his forehead creased with deep lines. Heavy black eyebrows were drawn together in what looked like a perpetual scowl. The right side of his face was puckered with white scar tissue and his hairline on that side was slightly higher. It looked as though he'd suffered a burn some time in the past. A wide metal bracer embossed with silver lightning bolts encircled each forearm.
'Approach,' he said, 'and speak.'
Arvin rose from his bow and stepped closer. He had no idea what the protocol was for a lay worshiper addressing a cleric of this faith. He was taking a big chance. If he angered the stormlord, the man might strike him down with a lighting bolt. But he couldn't just let those people die-not when there was someone who might be able to do something about it.
'Stormlord,' Arvin said, 'I've just come from Hlondeth. I learned something there-something terrible.
The cleric who just left the temple…Siskin. He isn't human. He's a yuan-ti.'
'Nonsense,' the stormlord said. 'Siskin has been touched by Talos. I saw the burn mark myself.'
Arvin was about to counter that the burn had probably been an illusion when he realized something. The stormlord's breath had a sweet odor to it. He'd been drinking wine.
Wine that smelled like Thessania's perfume.
Arvin had been certain, back at the quarry, that the black liquid was poison, but he started to wonder. Perhaps it was something else, something more insidious. Something that would bend a person's thoughts along paths they wouldn't ordinarily follow, until even the most horrific suggestions sounded perfectly reasonable.
'Siskin served you wine earlier tonight, didn't he?' Arvin asked. 'And he insisted that all of your flock drink, as well.'
The stormlord nodded. The furrow in his brow deepened. 'What of it?'
'Did the wine taste unusual?'
'It was sweeter. Flavored. It came from the east, he said.'
'After drinking the wine, you talked,' Arvin said. 'Siskin suggested that the lay worshipers be sacrificed. Tonight. It sounded reasonable at the time, but less reasonable now that you've had a chance to think about it.'
The stormlord started to nod, but just then, the ground trembled. Deep in the fissure that split the courtyard, something rumbled. Arvin heard a wet splat as lava shot out of the crack. He could feel its heat through his shirt.
The stormlord stared at the cooling rock, which was already losing its glow. 'It is… necessary,' he said. 'Talos demands a sacrifice. Without it, he will level
Mount Ugruth. Thousands will die. Hlondeth itself may be wiped out. We cannot allow that to happen. The sacrifice is… necessary.'
Arvin blinked. For a moment, the stormlord had sounded like Karrell. He'd sounded as though he cared about Hlondeth and its people. Arvin, like most folks in Hlondeth, had been taught that the clerics of Talos reveled in destruction and death, but the stormlord's comments gave him cause for thought.
'You don't want the mountain to erupt?' Arvin asked.
The stormlord glared at him. 'You're not one of us,' he rumbled.
'No,' Arvin admitted. 'I'm not. Nor is Siskin. I'll bet that when he arrived here, he was as much a stranger to you as I am.' He spread his hands, entreating the cleric to listen. 'Think about it-of the two strangers, who gives you more cause for concern? The one who is asking you to listen to your own doubts before it's too late-or a 'cleric' who got you drunk on a strange-tasting wine, then suggested you kill off all of your worshipers?'
The stormlord blinked and blinked again. A shudder ran through him. He shook his head like a man trying to throw off a dream. When he looked at Arvin again, his eyes were clear and hard. 'Thank you-friend-for the warning.
