Viper's Kiss - Lisa Smedman [81]
"I'm one of Naneth's assistants," Arvin continued. "When your friend arrived with the news that the human woman was feverish and ill, Naneth asked me to take a look. She had urgent business elsewhere, and wasn't able to come herself."
As he spoke, Arvin wondered just where Naneth had gone. Three nights had passed since the baron had stormed into her home, causing her to flee.
As the satyrs talked in their own language Arvin- glanced around. There were three tunnels through the brambles leading away from the clearing; drag marks through the slush showed the one from which they had hauled out Arvin. Around the, edges of the clearing stood a dozen huts like the one he had glimpsed while reading the thoughts of the satyr in Ormpetarr; it was impossible to tell which one Glisena was inside.
"Where is the human?" he asked. "I have healing magic that can help her."
The satyr with the pan pipes motioned with his hand; the others lowered their weapons. Then he tipped his horned head toward one of the huts-the only one that had smoke rising through the vent hole in its roof. "Follow me."
Arvin scrambled to his feet, wondering where Karrell had gone. There was no sign of her. Out of habit, he reached to touch the crystal that hung at his throat, to steady himself.
The crystal was gone; the satyrs must have taken it.
Arvin glared at the satyr who was leading him to the hut. Arvin's mother had given him the crystal just before she died; he'd worn it faithfully for two decades. Through the long years at the orphanage, it had been the one reminder that he'd once had a parent who loved him. Arvin was damned if he was going to let the satyrs keep it.
The satyr opened the door of the hut-an untanned hide hung from crude wooden pegs-and motioned for Arvin to enter. Arvin stepped inside and felt excitement course through him as he spotted the object of his search.
Glisena lay on a sheepskin near a fire pit. Her long hair damp with sweat, given over the smell of wood smoke, Arvin caught the odor of sickness; a fly circled lazily in the air above her head. Glisena still wore the dress she'd had on when she used Naneth's ring to teleport away from the palace; her winter cloak and boots lay in a heap against the far wall. Through the fabric of the dress, Arvin saw Glisena's stomach bulge momentarily: the baby kicking. Glisena gave a faint groan.
At least mother and baby were both alive.
Arvin should have felt elation. Instead he felt sadness and a grim sense of foreboding.
The satyr gave Arvin a shove from behind. "Heal her."
Arvin stumbled forward. Kneeling beside Glisena, he saw that the object circling above her was not a fly, after all, but a small black-and-white stone, ellipsoid in shape. That it was magical, he had no doubt. It was probably what had kept the spellcasters from finding Glisena. He left it alone; grabbing it would only alarm the satyr.
Gently, Arvin turned her face toward him. Her skin felt hot under his fingers. "Glisena?" he said. "Can you hear me?"
She blinked and tried to focus. "Dmetrio?"
Arvin's jaw clenched. Dmetrio Extaminos had cast this woman aside like spoiled fruit, long ago. Arvin longed to tell Glisena the truth-that Dmetrio was the last person she should expect. That he would soon be departing for Hlondeth without giving her a second thought. But that would hardly be a kindness.
"No, Arvin said gently. "It's not Dmetrio."
He snuck a glance at the satyr. The fellow stood near the door, scowling at Arvin, pan pipes still in hand.
"Naneth sent me," Arvin announced in a louder voice.
"Where… is she?" Glisena asked weakly. "Why hasn't she come?"
Once again, Arvin said nothing.
As she finally focused on him, Glisena's eyes widened in alarm. "Your face," she whispered. "It's bloody."
That one, Arvin had an answer for. "There was a misunderstanding," he said, glancing at the satyr as he spoke. "The satyrs didn't recognize me. Now be still. I need to figure out what's wrong with you."
He went through the motions of checking Glisena as a healer