Vanity's Brood - Lisa Smedman [119]
"Where's Zelia?" Arvin asked.
Zelia cocked her head. "Right here," she said, touching her chest with a slender finger.
Arvin didn't believe it for a moment.
Gonthril shifted suddenly, twisting in Arvin's grip. "You bitch!" he shouted, rearing to his feet. "You killed Karrell! I'll-"
Arvin manifested a simple power, shaping the sounds in the room. As a loud hissing filled the air, he shifted one of the fingers of the hand that held Gonthril's head, giving a two-tap code. Gonthril reacted according to plan, writhing and moaning as if his brain were burning. Arvin wrenched Gonthril's head back, exposing his throat, and bared his fangs.
Zelia caught his arm. "Don't be so hasty," she hissed. "Let him suffer a little more. Let's savor this."
Arvin twisted his lips into a sadistic smile. "I know," he said. "Let's fuse him."
"No!" Gonthril cried. "Not that!" He tried to force his way to his feet but Arvin shoved him down.
As Arvin pretended to be busy subduing Gonthril, he heard a chuckle from the seemingly empty air next to the cabinet. A second Zelia appeared in the room, standing next to it. She was dressed identically to the first-aside from their positions in the room, it was impossible to tell them apart. Arvin was almost certain it was the original, or maybe the first Zelia was the original and the second was the duplicate. It would be just the sort of mind game she would enjoy.
This second Zella stepped swiftly forward and flicked her fingers against Gonthril's face. Silver flashed in her eyes a third time. Gonthril's shouts of protest became muffled howls as his lips fused together. The flesh of his legs joined, and his arms melded with his torso. He crumpled downward into a ball, his body smoothing and folding in upon itself until it resembled a wrinkled lump of clay through which the ropes that had bound him passed. Hair and fingernails were still visible, as were the two holes in what had once been his nose. Gonthril breathed through these rapidly.
Arvin felt a dull horror as he glanced down at the lump that had, a moment before, been a man, but so far, his plan was holding together. Zelia had swallowed the bait he'd tossed her and had repeated her previous error, fusing Gonthril's fingers together, ensuring that Karrell's ring could not be removed. It was up to Arvin to keep her occupied, so she would not slice it free.
The first Zelia gestured toward the far wall. "Roll him over there," she ordered.
Arvin obliged. As he tumbled Gonthril against the wall, he the wall, he kept one wary eye on the Zelias. At the first hint of suspicion on their part, he would begin his attack.
The second Zelia regarded him with unblinking eyes. "So, `Dmetrio; " she said. Why haven't I been able to reach you? Where have you been?"
Arvin turned. "I had a run-in with an old friend of ours," he answered. "Juz'la."
The second Zelia gave him a sharp glance. "What of her?"
"She, too, quit the Hall of Mental Spendor," Arvin said. "She's working for Sibyl now."
Zelia's eyes widened.
"Or perhaps I should say, Juz'la was working for Sibyl," Arvin said. He ended with one of Zelia's gloating smiles.
The first Zelia cocked her head. Her tongue flickered from her lips. "You'll have to tell me all about that," she said. "Later."
As if at some unspoken signal, both Zelias swayed toward him. The first one ran a hand down his bare chest, toying with his scales; her tongue flickered out again, touching his chest.
"Interesting perfume," she said. "It tastes like ginger."
Arvin forced himself not to recoil though his skin crawled. He nodded. "I thought you might like it."
The second Zelia lifted the hand that held the bottle. "What's this?" she asked.
"The best wine in House Extaminos' cellars: a truly exotic vintage," Arvin answered. He nodded at the lump that was Gonthril. "I thought it would be appropriate