Smiling, Arvin slipped into the shadow of a ramp then touched the flat of the stone to his forehead. “Atmiya,” he said, speaking its command word out loud.

The stone grew warm against his skin. His forehead tickled as if tiny stitches were being sewn into his flesh, securing the lapis lazuli in place. He tried picking at the edge of the stone with a fingernail but could find no edge; it was embedded in his forehead. Suddenly worried, he thought the command word. Instantly the tickling sensation was gone. The stone fell from his forehead and he caught it in his hand. He rubbed his forehead, expecting to find a hole, but his skin was smooth, not even dented.

Once his heart had stopped racing, he returned the stone to his forehead and repeated the command word, locking it in place. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated, calling to mind Tanju’s face. Gray hair, strangely slanted eyes…

After a few moments, he felt a familiar prickling of psionic energy at the base of his scalp. The image of Tanju he held in his mind seemed to solidify; it was almost as if Arvin were staring at him in the flesh. The tracker lay on his side with eyes closed and head cradled on one arm, his face bathed in the dim glow of either a lantern or a low-burning fire. Tanju, Arvin thought. As he gave mental voice to his words, the lapis lazuli began to vibrate softly against the skin of his forehead. It was as if the stone were a fingertip, rapidly tapping the head of a drum. This is Gonthril. I’m in Hlondeth. I want to meet with you. Tell me where to find you.

Tanju sat up, a startled look on his face. Surprise muted into a thoughtful expression, and he mumbled something-to someone else, since Arvin couldn’t hear what was said. Fortunately, Tanju was equally unable to hear Arvin’s chuckle. Arvin had baited his sending with something the tracker found irresistible: “Gonthril.” And Tanju had just swallowed the hook.

I’m on the road to Mount Ugruth, Tanju answered. Camped at the top of the first pass. I’ll wait until Evening for you, but no longer.

The vibrations faded as the sending ended.

Arvin smiled. Perfect. Even allowing for a brief nap-which he badly needed-he could reach the pass by Sunset. That would still give him four full days until the mind seed took over. He started to speak the command word that would cause the lapis lazuli to drop from his forehead when he realized something. Zelia had told him that the stone could be used to manifest a sending just once a day, but this was only partially true. The stone could be used several times per day-if a different person was contacted each time. If Naulg was still alive…

Arvin summoned the familiar prickle of psionic energy back to the base of his scalp. Then he concentrated on Naulg’s face: his easy grin, his dark hair, his distinctive eyebrows…

Just as the image of Tanju had done, the mental picture of Naulg suddenly solidified in Arvin’s mind. It was as if Arvin were staring at the rogue from a point somewhere behind Naulg. He was sitting, arms wrapped around his drawn-up legs, his head hanging down dejectedly, chin on chest.

Alive! Naulg was still alive!

Elated, Arvin tried to see more, hoping for some clue as to Naulg’s whereabouts. But it was no use. All he could see was Naulg himself.

Naulg, he thought urgently. It’s Arvin. Answer me. Tell me where you are so I can rescue you.

Abruptly, Naulg’s head lifted. He whirled around, still in a seated position, searching for the source of the voice he’d just heard. Arvin, still linked by the sending, gasped as he saw the rogue’s face. Naulg’s cheeks were as sunken as those of a corpse, and his eyes were hollow pits under a scalp that was dotted with bald patches. Horrified by the change in his friend’s appearance, Arvin nearly lost the connection. Then Naulg’s reply came whispering back at him.

I am… unclean, he answered, his eyes gleaming with madness. A shiver passed through his body, and he wrapped his arms around his legs once more. My body must… burn.

“Unclean?” Arvin echoed. He wet his lips nervously.

Naulg, as if mimicking Arvin, wet his own lips. Arvin felt his face pale as he saw Naulg’s tongue. The tip of it was forked, just like a yuan-ti’s.

The rogue was still speaking telepathically to Arvin, still linked to him by the sending. He shook his head violently, and his eyes seemed to clear for just a moment. Arvin? he asked. You escaped?

“Yes, Naulg, I escaped. Where are you?” Arvin spoke out loud, despite the fact that Naulg wouldn’t hear him. That was how a sending worked: the psion sent a brief message, and received one in return. Then it ended.

Fortunately, Naulg was still answering-though his eyes had resumed a wild, darting look. The walls… It’s hot. They’re burning. The rogue paused, and his eyes cleared a little-though they were glazed with pain. It hurts. Oh gods, my stomach feels like it’s-

Abruptly, the sending ended.

Arvin stood, shaken by what he’d just seen and heard. His friend was in the grip of a hideous transformation that seemed to be sapping both his strength and his sanity. And he was counting on Arvin to rescue him.

Arvin spoke the command word and the lapis lazuli fell from his forehead. As he tucked it back inside the false seam of his shirt pocket, he debated what to do. Tanju was well to the north of the city-it would take Arvin a full day to reach him and another to get back to the city. Could Naulg wait that long for rescue?

If Naulg had been able to say where he was, Arvin wouldn’t be asking that question. But his reply to the sending had been baffling. Burning walls? The Pox could be hiding inside a foundry, or a pottery factory… or next to a building that was being cleansed of plague.

With a sinking heart, Arvin decided that Naulg would have to come second. Tanju would only wait one day for Arvin; Arvin couldn’t let his only chance at dislodging the mind seed just walk away.

“Hang on, Naulg,” Arvin whispered. “I’ll come for you. Just hang on.”

25 Kythorn, Sunset

Arvintrudged onward, weary and footsore after a full day of walking in the hot sun along the road that wound its way into the foothills north of Hlondeth. Built centuries ago when the aqueduct was constructed, the road was little more than a track, its flagstones all but lost among the weeds. The aqueduct itself was still sound; Arvin could hear water gurgling through the enormous stone troughs overhead. Here and there water spurted out through a crack where two of the troughs joined, providing a cooling shower for the travelers trudging below.

Arvin had expected to be the only one on the road; summer was a grueling time to be undertaking a climb into the mountains north of the city. He was surprised by the number of people who were heading in the same direction that he was. They turned out to be devotees of Talos the Destroyer, on their way to Mount Ugruth to view the most recent venting of the volcano. Every so often-whenever they caught sight of the plume of smoke rising from the peak of the mountain-the pilgrims would fall to their knees, tear their shirts, and claw at the earth until their fingers bled. A few even went so far as to claw at their faces, opening bloody wounds they displayed proudly to one another, bragging that this would speed the flow of lava down the mountain’s sides and the destruction of all in its path.

Arvin, reminded of the excesses of the priests who had run the orphanage, kept well away from these fanatics. What point was there in worshiping a god who offered only death and destruction as rewards for faithful service? Surely that was madness.

Yet it was madness that offered the perfect cover. As he drew nearer to the top of the first pass, Arvin stepped into the trees, out of sight from the road. When he emerged again, his shirt hung in tatters, his trouser knees were dirty and his hair and face were streaked with blood from a cut he’d opened on one finger. Raising his hands to the distant volcano, he continued up the road.