Vanity's Brood - Lisa Smedman [43]
They did, and turned, glowering, toward Arvin.
Thessania pointed a slender finger at him. "This man has been sent by the Prince of Lies to stir up mistrust and strife among us. Don't listen to him."
"Cyric didn't send me," Arvin said, naming the god he'd frequently been warned about by the priests at the orphanage. He wove the name of Ilmater's chief ally into the lie: "Tyr did. The god of justice has allied himself with Talos to expose Thessania's trickery."
"The Raging God stands alone," said Thessania. "He allies with no one."
"Save for Auril, Malar, and Umberlee," Arvin said, hurling back the deity names he'd plucked from one of the worshiper's thoughts. "Though Malar would turn on the other Gods of Fury if he could-would send one of his beast minions sneaking like a serpent into Talos's tower to slay the Storm Lord, if he dared."
"Deceit!" Thessania cried. "More lies!"
She spat, and the glob of poisonous spittle hurtled through the air toward Arvin.
He imposed a psionic hand in front of it just before it struck, and smiled as it splattered on the leaves behind him. Thessania had moved precisely the playing piece he'd hoped she would.
He addressed one of the female worshipers-a thin woman who stared at him with narrowed eyes. "You've been wondering, Yivril, why your storm- mistress didn't smite the blasphemer in Ormath with a lightning bolt."
The worshiper's eyes widened.
"Odd, isn't it, that she's not hurling one at me now," Arvin continued. "Instead she's spitting at me… like a snake."
With that, he used his manifestation to yank back Thessania's cowl.
Some of the worshipers gasped; others gaped in open-mouthed silence.
"It's an illusion," Thessania cried, yanking at her cowl. "Pay it no heed!"
Several of the worshipers began babbling at once. "So that's why she refused to-"
"I thought it was strange that-"
"We've been tricked!" Menzin shouted, lunging at Thessania and knocking the bowl from her hands. "She's a yuan-ti!"
Spitting with fury, Thessania bit him.
Menzin collapsed, gasping, his lips already blue. The other worshipers, however, were not easily cowed. A handful were driven back by Thessania's magical fear, but the rest mobbed her. Arvin caught a glimpse of Thessania shifting to snake form in an attempt to get away, but then Yivril rushed forward, a chunk of broken stone in her hand. She smashed it down on Thessania's clothes. Even from where he stood, Arvin could hear the crunch of bones breaking.
Satisfied, he slipped away into the woods. As he did, he touched the crystal at his throat. "Nine lives," he breathed, thankful that none of the gods he'd falsely invoked had seen fit to take notice of the fact.
He circled through the woods, putting some distance between himself and the quarry before returning to the road. The tickling in his forehead grew stronger; the iron cobra was getting closer. Though Arvin was still tired-it hadn't been a very restful sleep, being jostled about in the cart-he needed to get moving again. Talos's temple was still a day's journey distant, and he doubted the cobra needed to rest or sleep.
Fortunately, his meditations had replenished his muladhara. If the iron cobra did catch up to him, he'd have mind magic to fight back with. He doubted the thing had a mind to affect, and it was probably immune to ordinary weapons, but there were one or two manifestations he might use to at least slow it down a little.
A branch rustled in the forest. Arvin whirled, then saw it was just a small bird that had flown from a tree. The tickling in his forehead was starting to get to him. He needed to get moving, to cover a lot more ground than his human legs were capable of. He decided to use his psionics to morph his body into something speedier, perhaps into a giant like the one he'd met the previous winter, or…
Watching the bird climb into the evening sky, he had an inspiration. He would morph into something with wings. A flying snake, perhaps-he'd seen enough of them in Hlondeth. He made sure his backpack was snug against his shoulders,