Vanity's Brood - Lisa Smedman [23]
The last thing Arvin saw before losing consciousness was the dwarf raising the hollow reed to his lips.
The next thing Arvin knew, Pakal was slapping him awake. Groggily, Arvin pushed him away and drew a shaking breath. He sat up-and had to wait for the room to stop spinning before he could speak. He felt as though he was going to be ill.
"What happened?" he asked.
Pakal pointed at the Naneth-seed, who lay face-down on the floor. She'd landed with one arm stretched out above her head, pudgy fingers splayed. One of her fingers, Arvin noticed, was encircled with a band of amber: the teleportation ring she'd used to spirit Glisena out of her father's palace. A tiny feathered dart protruded from the back of the Naneth-seed's neck, just above Arvin's dagger. He stared, not believing his eyes, at his defeated foe.
"Is she-"
"Dead." Pakal offered Arvin his hand.
Arvin sighed with relief. The fact that the dwarf had saved him was a sobering thought. Arvin should have, with his increased powers, been able to deal with the seed on his own. He took the dwarf's hand and climbed to his feet.
"Nice shot," he said.
He nudged the big woman's body with a toe. He half expected it to rise from death, as the skeletal serpent had.
Pakal picked up the Circled Serpent and placed it back inside the box, then pointed forked fingers at the room's only exit. His face paled as he lowered his hand.
"Sibyl comes this way," said the dwarf. "Are you certain you will not come? I can turn your body to air once more."
Arvin picked up his backpack and glanced inside. The net had indeed knotted itself into the pack, but a few quick strokes of his knife would cut it loose.
"I'm not leaving until I kill Sibyl," Arvin replied.
He yanked his dagger from the Naneth-seed's back and got to work.
The dwarf shook his head. "I will he gone before then. Even if you succeed, you may be trapped here."
"No, I won't," Arvin said. He tilted his head at the Naneth-seod's hand. "Her ring is magical. It can teleport me out of here. Assuming, that is, that I survive."
As he spoke, he continued working to free his net. It was tricky work; one slip and he'd sever a strand of the net itself, ruining it. He could hear the whuff whuff-whuff of wings in the corridor beyond the chamber, as well as running footsteps and the slither of scaly bodies. Sibyl and her clerics drew closer.
Pakal laid a broad hand on Arvin's shoulder. "You are a braver man than I. Thard Harr grant you strength." He began the prayer that would turn his body to air.
It was cut short by an angry hiss from the corridor outside. "Naneth!" Sibyl shouted. "You will regret betraying me."
A heartbeat later, a wave of magical fear boiled into the room, even stronger than before. Panic filled Arvin's mind as he whirled, searching for a way out of the chamber. There was only one exit, and it led straight to Sibyl. He was trapped…
No. There was another way out. Shoving his way past Pakal, who cringed on the floor, Arvin grabbed the Naneth-seed's hand. He sobbed in relief as he located the band of amber on one of her pudgy fingers. Yanking it free, he threw it onto the floor.
"Ossalur!" he cried.
The ring expanded.
Waves of magical fear lashed Arvin toward the circle of amber, which had grown to nearly two paces wide. Safety lay just a step or two away. Outside the chamber, he could hear Sibyl's furious hissing, could feel the rush of air from her wings as she approached.
No! he thought, fighting the compulsion to flee.
Rallying, he turned and scooped up his pack. The moment he'd been waiting for, planning for six months, was at hand. Sweat erupting on his brow from the strain, he plunged a hand into the pack. He'd almost freed the net. One good yank and it would be in his hands, ready to throw.
Then another wave of fear struck. Pakal leaped to his feet, wide-eyed. He clutched the box tight against his chest in white-knuckled fingers, trembling like a mouse about to be