Arvin made a mental note of the word-it sounded like the name of an organization, but it was one he’d never heard of before. “We haven’t met,” he answered honestly. “My name’s Arvin.”

“I’m Kayla.” She glanced around, squinting as she tried to penetrate the absolute darkness. “I can’t see anything-can you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then you can help me find my way out of these gods-cursed sewers. I need to get back to Gonthril and make my report. He’ll be glad to hear we were right about the clerics being down here.”

“Good work,” Arvin said, playing along. Gonthril was, presumably, the leader of whatever group this woman belonged to, and he seemed to be interested in the Pox-interested enough to send people into the sewers to search for them. Why was anyone’s guess.

“Gonthril asked me to keep an eye out for someone while I was down here,” Arvin told Kayla. “A dark-haired man whose eyebrows join above his nose. Have you seen him?”

“Who is he?”

“Someone who might be able to help us,” Arvin said, keeping his answer deliberately vague.

Kayla shook her head. “I haven’t seen him.”

“How long have you been down here?”

“Since Sunset. We tried to enter the sewers earlier, but the militia were everywhere.”

Arvin nodded. She’d been in the sewers quite some time, then. “Did you see any other clerics besides the one with the basket?”

“No.”

“How did you know where to find him?”

“We didn’t,” Kayla said. “It was just Tymora’s luck. We were snooping around in the sewers-we’d seen one of Talona’s clerics come down here earlier. When we spotted the opening that led to the hidden corridor, we decided to follow it.”

“I see,” Arvin said, disappointed. Though Kayla had been forthcoming, she hadn’t told him anything about the cultists that he didn’t already know. Perhaps others in her organization would know more.

One thing was bothering Arvin. “That second fellow-the old sailor-why did Urus shoot him?”

The mention of her companion’s name started the woman’s lip trembling. “He attacked us.”

Arvin frowned. “Are you sure the old man wasn’t just trying to escape-to get by you?”

Kayla shook her head. “He was with the cleric. When Urus and I surprised them in the chamber, the cleric shouted at the old man to attack us and started casting a spell. I was able to stop him before his prayer was complete, but the old man managed to bite my arm before Urus could shoot him. He ran off while Urus was reloading… and that thing showed up.”

Arvin frowned. “The old man bit you?” he said.

“You don’t believe me?” Kayla shoved up her sleeve. “Look.”

Arvin stared at the crescent-shaped bite mark on her wrist.

“His bite was venomous,” Kayla continued. “He must have been yuan-ti-one that could pass for human in lantern light. If it weren’t for this, I’d be dead.” She touched something that hung from a silver chain around her neck-a pendant made from a black gem. That it was ensorcelled to ward off poison, Arvin had no doubt. But had the old man’s bite truly been poisonous?

He gave the bite on her wrist a closer scrutiny. The wound lacked the distinctive puncture marks that hollow, venom-filled fangs would leave. “The old man was diseased, you mean,” he corrected.

Kayla shook her head. “It wasn’t disease-the effects were too quick. As soon as his teeth broke the skin, my entire arm felt as though it were on fire.”

Arvin nodded, losing interest. The real question was whether the old sailor had joined Talona’s cult or been magically compelled by the cleric to attack. Whichever it was, he must have been one of the two men Zelia had spied earlier on the stone island. She’d assumed that both were cultists even though only one was wearing robes. The old man obviously hadn’t been acting like a prisoner-and he certainly hadn’t been bound.

“We should get moving,” Kayla said.

Arvin nodded. “Is there an exit nearby?”

Kayla found the wall of the tunnel by touch and ran her palm up it to locate the edge of the corridor in which Arvin crouched. Then she pointed up the sewage tunnel, away from the chamber with the stone island. “That way. There’s a shaft that gives access to the street, about four hundred paces up the tunnel. It’s at the base of the next spillway.”

Arvin glanced down at the water, the surface of which was dotted with half-dissolved lumps that drifted gently with the current. The sewage was deeper than his ankle-high boots; he grimaced at the thought of climbing down into it. “I’m going to climb along the wall,” he told her. “You can hold onto my shirt and follow me. All right?”

Kayla nodded.

They set out, Arvin making his way slowly along the wall, Kayla holding on to his shirt. Several times she slipped and nearly pulled Arvin into the sewage with her, but his bracelet allowed him to stick tight to the wall.

As he led her up the sewage tunnel, he considered his options. He could wait near the stone island to see if any other cultists showed up, could slog around in the sewers in the hope of stumbling into some of them-or he could leave with Kayla. The charm he’d placed on her would be effective for some time, and she could probably be talked into taking him along with her when she reported to her leader. This Gonthril fellow must know more than Kayla did. If Arvin could charm him into sharing what he knew, perhaps two knots could be tied with a single twist. Arvin might learn the answers to Zelia’s questions and might gain some insight into where Naulg was…

Without having to face the cultists.

24 Kythorn, Darkmorning

Arvin lifted the grate a finger’s width and peered up and down the darkened street. They were inside the yuan-ti section of the city; mansion walls towered on either side. A slave was sweeping dust from an elaborate, column-fronted entry way to the right. A second slave with a handcart was picking up garbage from the street.

Arvin tipped the grate sideways and passed it down to Kayla, who had braced herself inside the narrow shaft with her back against one wall, her feet against the other. Arvin was just above her, in the same position, his backpack turned so that it hung against his chest. When both slaves had their backs to the opening, he clambered out of the shaft, took the grate from Kayla, and helped her up after him. A moment later the grate was back in place, and they were strolling in the opposite direction from the slaves, just two people out for a walk in the darkness that preceded dawn.

As they passed a light standard, Kayla glanced at Arvin. Seeing her eyes widen, he worried that she might have realized that he wasn’t a member of her group after all.

“Amazing,” she said. “You could be Gonthril’s brother.” She paused then added, “Are you?”

“No,” Arvin said, not wanting to get caught up in a lie that would quickly unravel on him. “The resemblance is coincidental. I’m always getting mistaken for-” He paused, suddenly realizing something. That was who the militia had thought Arvin was that morning: Gonthril. A “rebel,” the sergeant had called him…

A rebel with a ten thousand gold piece bounty on his head. And Kayla was about to lead Arvin straight to the man. The next little while could prove interesting-and possibly lucrative.

He nudged Kayla into a walk again. “Let’s keep moving. If anyone sees you like that…”

Kayla nodded. “There’s a fountain up ahead. I can wash up a little.”

They quickened their pace, taking a side street to the fountain. Arvin stood watch as Kayla rinsed the worst of the sewage off herself by ducking into the spray, and they set off again. Arvin expected a lengthy, downhill walk, but Kayla instead led him uphill, deeper into the yuan-ti section of town. Several times they saw militia out on patrol and had to turn up a side street to avoid them. Once, while doing this, they blundered into a group of slaves. Arvin stuck his chin in the air haughtily and hissed at them, giving the impression that he was a yuan-ti. They touched their foreheads and turned aside, discretely ignoring the squelching sound Kayla’s wet boots made and the odor that lingered in her wake.