"Better to ask you, stranger. What do you want?" The voice hissed in his mind, though the creature had made no sound. Awestruck, Halloran stepped backward, realizing that the beast's powers dwarfed his own mortal abilities.

The girl spoke, her voice smooth and quick. He could not understand her words, but suddenly the meaning entered his mind.

"Chitikas! Why have you brought us here? Who are these men?"

The serpent, Hal realized, not only communicated its own thoughts to him, but it also translated and passed along the words of the native girl.

"I don't like this," growled Daggrande, his voice a coarse whisper. "Let's get out of here!"

"We must stay here and listen." The white-robed man rose to his feet and turned toward Daggrande and Halloran. He, too, spoke his own language for telepathic translation. "The couatl is the sign of ultimate good, disciple of Qotal himself. I, Kachin, priest of Qotal, beseech you to listen."

The cleric nodded at the carved visage, and Hal understood that the serpentine face, with its mane of feathers, depicted this god, Qotal.

"Priest?" spat the legionnaire. "A priest such as the one who tore the heart from a defenseless woman? What kind of priest is that? What kind of god is that?" Halloran trembled with rage as the memory of that event came back to him in all its horror.

Kachin sighed. "No, not such a priest, though you have seen this face of the gods of Maztica."

"What possessed that monster? Why was she killed?" Halloran demanded.

"The tale is unpleasant, and complicated. That cleric is a patriarch of Zaltec, god of war – and night, and death, and other incidental things, but mainly war." Kachin spoke quickly, his words becoming thoughts in Hal's mind with equal speed.

"Across the land of Maztica are many who worship Zaltec, and all of them seek hearts to feed to their god. The priests take these hearts, usually at sunrise or sunset, in great numbers."

"That's barbaric!" snarled Halloran, appalled. "What kind of a god would demand such a thing? And what kind of people would obey?"

"Do not make judgments too sweeping," urged Kachin. "Though the creed of Zaltec spreads far across the land, here in Payit are many who hearken to the call of Qotal."

Erix spoke suddenly, surprising both Kachin and Hal. "Qotal is the source of pluma, the feathermagic that broke your bonds," she told Hal. "A god who thrives on life and beauty, not blood."

The girl turned and explained many things to the cleric. The serpent did not translate her words, but Hal understood the basic message: She had fled from the priest who killed Martine and had been captured by Daggrande's men.

"All right," Hal growled, interrupting her. "We'll stay here and listen, as you suggest. But I want some explanations!"

"I don't like this," grumbled Daggrande softly, but he remained beside his comrade.

"Remember, stranger? hissed the serpent, "I could have left you to die at the pyramid. There was no escape for you there" Halloran winced at the power, and the underlying sense of menace, in the message thrumming into his brain. For a moment, he wondered if the snake intended to attack him.

At the same time, Halloran realized that the creature spoke the truth. The battle at the pyramid had been lost. He thought of the legionnaires of Daggrande's detachment, all of them probably dead now. How many times this day must he stand helpless as companions died?

"I have told you that I am Kachin," said the rotund priest, suddenly nodding. His words were translated even as the snake held its unblinking gaze upon Halloran. "And this is Erixitl."

Hal nodded curtly, still staring at the snake. Abruptly a wave of power knocked him backward. Something had struck his mind, a blow that was not physical but nonetheless stunning.

"Speak!" commanded the serpent. "Do you strangers have no manners? Speak your names."

Hal bit back a sharp reply and nodded stiffly. "I am Captain Halloran. My companion is Captain Daggrande."

"And I am Chitikas Couatl, devoted servant of Qotal, and the one who has just saved your Lives" The serpent undulated through the room. Slowly the golden glow emanating from its body faded until the chamber disappeared into darkness.

"You humans complain about the most ridiculous things! You don't understand things that should be obvious to an infant!" The voice was a menacing growl in their minds.

"The True World stands at the brink of disaster. Evil threatens life upon all sides, from all directions. And you bicker proudly about your might and your fierceness!

"It is in your power to do things, to act against this blanketing scourge. You, Captain Halloran, face a quandary. You are not an evil man, yet great evils shall be asked of you.

"Only you, Erixitl, once of Palul, have touched the spirit of Our Esteemed Father!' The creature directed its gaze to Erixitl, and all four humans could feel the focus of its attention change, even in the inky darkness of the chamber. "And even you have been reluctant, not showing gratitude proper for one who owes so much.

"So I will leave all of you to think upon my words. Only when the true blossom of understanding shrouds you can the will of the Feathered One become life.

"But still, for the spirit you have shown me, however briefly – the serpent again hissed softly to Erix – "I will give you a gift… a gift of learning"

They all felt a brief pulse of power, something that seemed to twist the air in the cavern and then vanish. "Sorcery!" grunted Daggrande.

"It is sorcery in truth, short man," said Erix. The three males gaped at her in awe, for the words were carefully pronounced in stilted Commonspeech, the language of Waterdeep and the Realms.

"How is it you speak the words of the strangers?" gasped Kachin.

"This is the gift of Chitikas Couatl," replied Erix in amazement. She spoke in Payit, then turned and repeated the words in Common.

"Where'd Twisty go, anyhow?" grunted Daggrande, the first to notice that the snake seemed to be gone.

"You should show Chitikas more respect," Erix chided Daggrande gently, then turned to look at Halloran with that frank curiosity that he found so unsettling.

Halloran returned her stare, half in challenge and half in confusion. Even in the darkness, her luminous eyes were visible, studying him with bold intelligence and a hint of reproach. He wanted to rage at this savage woman and her companion, wanted to curse them for their obscene god. But even so, he remembered her act of kindness, when she had used her feathered necklace to free him from his bonds.

"Why did you free me?" Hal asked slowly. He pulled the snakeskin from his belt and held it toward her. "This held fast against our sharpest steel."

"I do not know what 'steel' is, but the – " Erix paused and searched for a word in her new language – " the hishna, the magic of scale and claw and fang, stands in opposition to pluma, the magic of feathers and air. I freed you because my necklace of pluma gives me power over hishna"

Erix pondered for a moment, puzzled. "I do not truly know why I chose to use this power to come to your aid. You are certainly the most frightening men I have ever seen. And in truth, you smell as though you have not bathed in many days.

"Chitikas told me to help you, but I did not want to. It was only when the Payit attacked that I desired you to have a chance to at least fight for your life."

"Thank you" said Halloran, as puzzled as Erix by her decision.

Daggrande had walked over to the doorway and looked at the sky. Now he turned back with a more practical concern.

"Does anyone know where we are?"

Spirali sat cross-legged upon the altar. The heart that had been torn from Martine lay beside him, cold and still. The Ancient One slowly worked his magic, seeking through the night the power that would tell him where his enemy had gone.