Vanity's Brood - Lisa Smedman [78]
"Se'sehen?" he asked.
The yuan-ti's head swayed from side to side. In a human, it would have been denial, but the gesture was accompanied by a gloating smile and bared his fangs. His tongue flickered against Arvin's face, savoring his fear.
Arvin decided to take a gamble. "Sibyl?" he asked. His good hand was pressed against his chest but still visible. Arvin tapped a finger against his ohest. "Sibyl," he repeated. "I'm one of her followers, too."
The yuan-ti relaxed his coils. His face was triangular with slit-pupiled eyes, not the slightest bit human. He had human arms, however, though they too were covered in green scales. His forked tongue flickered against Arvin's chest. "Sybil?" he repeated.
Arvin nodded. "Yes. Yes. We're on the same side." The yuan-ti smiled and released Arvin. "Sibyl," he hissed again.
A shadow flickered across the yuan-ti. Something big had momentarily blocked the sunlight. The yuanti looked up.
Arvin followed his glance and saw an enormous winged serpent silhouetted against the sky. He felt the blood drain from his face as he realized who it must be. With the arrival of dawn, the portal had once again activated. Sibyl had slipped through.
The yuan-ti said something to Arvin in a tense, urgent voice. He glanced up again at the winged serpent that circled above them. Then his tail uncoiled, releasing Arvin. He said something more, gesturing urgently at the jungle, then slithered rapidly away.
Arvin stared, surprised. It was almost as if the yuan-ti had been frightened off by Sibyl. Maybe he'd been Jennestaa, after all.
Time for Arvin to get out of here as well.
As he turned to go, he heard a sharp fluttering noise: air passing swiftly over massive wings. Glancing up, he saw the winged serpent hurtling down toward him. He ran, hoping to lose himself beneath the trees, and cursed. He had nothing to fight Sibyl with; he'd left the musk creeper net in the cave. He tripped over a vine, stumbled, then recovered and ran on. HeCouldn't move.
Couldn't even blink as he crashed, still frozen in a running pose, to the ground. As he lay on the jungle floor, the only thing that was moving-swiftly enough to make him dizzy-was the blood rushing through his veins. Over the thudding of his heart, loud in his ears, he heard the rustle of wings arid the prolonged thud of a serpent body settling on the ground.
A tic of despair tuggod at the corner of Arvin's eye. He waited for Sibyl's fangs to strike.
"Arvin?" a familiar voice said. It sounded surprised.
Arvin could move again. He scrambled to his feet. When he turned around, he saw Pakal. The dwarf had an odd expression on his face. It looked as though he was trying to decide whether he was glad-or angry-to see Arvin again.
Coiled on the ground beside Pakal was the winged serpent Arvin had mistaken for Sibyl. Arvin saw that it was no abomination-or at least, unlike any abomination he'd ever seen before. From its wedge-shaped head to the tip of its tail, the serpent was covered in feathers that glowed at the touch of sunlight. Midnight blue shaded into indigo, then into red, orange, yellow, and green. It had wings white and lacy as fresh frost, each feather tipped with vivid turquoise. Its face, though that of a serpent, was set in a kindly expression. Its smile was neither sly nor gloating but serene.
A rosy glow emanated from Pakal's body, turning his skin a ruddy brown. He had one hand raised, two fingers extended in a forked position; claws were visible at their tips. He'd lost his blowgun, probably to the river, but his dart pouch was still attached to his belt. Pakal had obviously homed in on the Circled Serpent just as he had in Sibyl's lair. Smashing the statue had been a big mistake.
The winged serpent next to him stared at Arvin with eyes like twin moons. Without opening its mouth, it spoke to Arvin, mind to mind. Its voice was a soft female trill. Which half of the Circled Serpent do you carry?
Denial would have been pointless. The winged serpent radiated power.