that Arvin heard echoing through the seed's thoughts.
The Dmetrio-seed stared idly at the flaming oil- again, a most uncharacteristic behavior for one of Zelia's seeds. 'Beautiful, isn't it?' he hissed. 'Just like a slitherglow.'
Arvin looked around, pretending to study the chamber. 'This city must be ancient,' he said, stalling as he tried to think what to do next.
'It was built centuries ago,' the seed answered, 'at the height of the Serpentes Empire.'
'It's very remote.'
'Yes.'
'Why did you come here?' Arvin asked. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear what the seed thought about Dmetrio's mission.
'To forge an alliance,' the seed answered. 'House Se'sehen has turned its back on House Extaminos. We need new allies in the south.'
That much was the truth. Dmetrio-the real Dmetrio, before Zelia had seeded him-had been ordered south by Lady Dediana on a secret mission to build up the Jennestaa forces in preparation for an attack on the Se'sehen. That, it was hoped, would draw Sibyl south. If all went well, Sibyl would be killed in the resulting battle, thus removing the thorn that had festered in Hlondeth's side those past two years. With Sibyl dead, Dmetrio could claim her half of the Circled Serpent, use it to free his god, and become Sseth's avatar.
Zelia, of course, had no intention of letting this happen, nor did she intend to let her seed become an avatar- that much was clear in the seed's thoughts. The Dmetrio-seed had been given strict orders to get the second half of the Circled Serpent from Arvin, kill him, and hand both halves over to Zelia.
The seed, of course, had his own thoughts on that matter. The idea of becoming Sseth's avatar-of gaining powers far beyond those the original Zelia possessed-was a tempting one, but also one that gave the seed pause. Zelia was a more powerful psion and a dangerous woman to cross. Seeds who had attempted betrayal before had all met a swift death.
Arvin pressed deeper. Had the Dmetrio-seed learned where the door was? Arvin couldn't find it anywhere in the seed's thoughts. That was disappointing, but there was still more to be learned. Whether the seed had told Zelia that Arvin had contacted him, for example.
'Was that why the Se'sehen attacked Hlondeth?' Arvin continued. 'Because of the new alliance?'
The Dmetrio-seed blinked. He'd had no idea Hlondeth was under attack.
'You didn't know?' Arvin continued, even though he'd already heard the answer in the Dmetrio-seed's thoughts. 'Zelia didn't tell you?'
The seed, he learned, hadn't been in touch with Zelia since receiving the message that Arvin would get in touch with him soon. The seed had wanted to alert Zelia to the fact that Arvin had just contacted him with a sending-that Arvin had the other half of the Circled Serpent-but Juz'la had advised against it. Amazingly, the seed had acquiesced.
'When did this attack take place?' the Dmetrioseed asked.
'Two days ago.'
The seed hissed. An attack on Hlondeth, he was thinking, might mean an attack on Ss'yin was imminent. The Jennestaa had been working hard to create an army, but they were nowhere near ready yet. After a moment, however, his agitation eased. He'd ask Juz'la for advice; she'd know what to do.
'War makes odd bedfellows,' Arvin prompted, hoping to hear more about Juz'la.
The Dmetrio-seed didn't take the bait. His lips quirked into a smile. 'That it does. The Jennestaa are wild and uncivilized-they find beauty in the power of the jungle to break apart even the largest stone. They'd like to see every city laid waste and reclaimed by the jungle.'
'Even Hlondeth?'
The Dmetrio-seed touched Arvin's arm, drew him closer. 'Even Hlondeth,' he breathed in Arvin's ear. 'Fortunately, they'll never get that far.'
Arvin started to draw away-then stopped, as he smelled a faint but unmistakable odor. A perfume- sweet scent, overlaid with wine.
Hassaael.
That was what was muddying the Dmetrio-seed's thoughts and making Zelia as passive as a slurring
drunk. Like the Talassan on Mount Ugruth, she had fallen entirely under the sway of whoever had fed her hassaael.
Arvin could guess who that was.
Juz'la.
It all fit. Juz'la had run afoul of a yuan-ti slaver in Skullport, and she'd drunk a magic potion that transformed her-a potion that sounded hauntingly familiar to the one the Pox had used to transform Naulg. That potion had come from a slaver named Ssarm, a man who was also a supplier of hassaael to Sibyl's minions.
Juz'la was one of them, a minion powerful enough to have conquered Zelia-or rather, one of Zelia's mind seeds. Zelia, Arvin was certain, didn't know that yet. She'd noticed the 'dulling' of her seed's mind but had put it down to his osssra use.
A slithering footstep drew Arvin's attention to one of the tunnels. He glanced up in time to see Juz'la step into the chamber. She held a wine glass made of delicate green crystal in her hand.
'Ah,' she hissed. 'Our guest has arrived.' She held the glass out to Arvin. 'You must be thirsty after your journey. Here, drink.'
CHAPTER 8
Thank you,' Arvin said, taking the wine glass. He pretended not to notice the twin puncture marks on the inside of Juz'la's wrist. 'I am indeed thirsty. This is the hottest place I've ever been.'
He swept the improvised turban off his head and mopped his brow with it, then pretended to stuff it into his pocket. When he removed his hand, the fabric was inside his sleeve. He transferred the glass to this hand and raised it to his lips. He was tempted to manifest a distraction but was wary of alerting Juz'la with a secondary display. If she'd associated with Zelia in the past, she'd certainly know all about psions. He'd already noted the glance she'd given the crystal that hung at his neck.
The Dmetrio-seed stood slightly behind Juz'la. Arvin glanced in his direction and gave his head the slightest of shakes just enough so Juz'la would notice. As he'd hoped, she glanced behind her to see what the seed was up to. Arvin used the opportunity to turn slightly to the right, to screen what he was doing from the seed, and tip the wine down his sleeve. The fabric inside it soaked it up, and any that bled through to his shirt would blend in with the sweat that already dampened it. He allowed the dregs of the wine to wet his tightly closed lips. As Juz'la turned back toward him, frowning, he wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand. If she saw any wine stains on his sleeve, she'd likely attribute them to that; few people could remember which hand, exactly, had been used in such a casual gesture.
'Unusual taste,' he commented.
Juz'la glanced at the burning oil-probably making sure he hadn't poured the wine into it-and smiled. Her eye teeth were slender and curved, like a snake's. Scales covered her hairless scalp, her neck, and her arms, which were quite muscular. She wore a tightfitting dress of a gauzy material that did nothing to hide her breasts or the darker patch of scales at her groin. If she'd been fed the same potion that Naulg had, it had left her mind remarkably unscathed; her eyes shone with a keen intelligence.
A black bracelet encircled her left wrist. Only when it lifted its head did Arvin realize it was a tiny viper. Juz'la lifted it to her lips and kissed it, then whispered an endearment to it as the tiny serpent twined around her fingers.
'Who are you?' Arvin asked, putting just a hint
of suspicion into his voice.
'An old friend of Dmetrio's.'
Arvin gave a mental nod. Juz'la was keeping up the pretense that Dmetrio was still himself. The
Dmetrio-seed himself probably hadn't realized that Arvin knew his secret.
