“He was human. With collar-length brown hair, and….” Naneth paused, frowning. “And an oval of blue stone attached to his forehead.”
“Do you have any idea who he might be?”
“None.”
Arvin laughed with nervous relief. The description Naneth had just given was vague enough that it might have been anyone—aside from the lapis lazuli, which he’d be careful to keep out of sight from now on.
“What, precisely, did the spellcaster say?”
Naneth frowned. “Only this: ‘He knows what you did.’” She paused. “It’s a ruse, isn’t it? One designed to get us to tip our hand.”
“You humans are not always as stupid as you seem,” Sibyl answered, her tongue flickering in and out through her smile.
From behind the closed door came the sounds of a man shouting. Then footsteps pounded up the stairs. For a moment, Arvin thought the baron had returned, but then he realized that this was part of the vision. To his eyes, the door was still closed and locked—and shuddering as the baron pounded on it and shouted at Naneth to open it.
The midwife gave a quick glance over her shoulder then turned back to the sphere. “The baron is here,” she whispered in a tight voice. “Should I—”
Sibyl’s wings flared. “Do nothing rash,” she hissed. “Do not go to the girl; if this is a ruse, they will have a means of following you. Avoid the baron, for now. Continue your preparations.”
Naneth bowed her head. “I am your servant, oh Sibilant Death.”
As the baron shouted what sounded like a final warning, the image of Sibyl vanished from the sphere. Scooping up the crystal ball, Naneth spoke several words in a foreign language. Then she vanished, leaving only swirling dust motes behind.
A heartbeat later the door crashed open, propelled by the baron’s boot. He stormed into the room and glared around it, nose crinkling as he caught the odor of snake. Then he whirled and stomped out of sight.
Devoid of emotion to feed it, the manifestation ended.
Arvin knocked a fist against his own forehead, chastising himself in the silent speech. Stupid. If only he hadn’t sent that warning to Naneth, they might have learned where Glisena was—but now Naneth was gone.
It was no consolation to Arvin that, until a few moments ago, Naneth had seemed nothing more than a helpful midwife. Marasa had been right all along. Glisena had been kidnapped, albeit without her realizing it. The baron’s daughter had unwittingly placed herself—and her unborn child—in the hands of servants of an utterly ruthless and evil abomination. What terrible scheme was Sibyl up to this time?
Whatever it was, it had to involve the child.
Six months ago, Sibyl had attempted to install Osran Extaminos, youngest brother of Lady Dediana, on Hlondeth’s throne. She would have succeeded, had Arvin not thwarted her plan to turn Hlondeth’s humans into Osran’s private slave army. This time around, Sibyl must have been planning to use Lady Dediana’s grandchild.
That this was a scheme of opportunity, Arvin had no doubt. There was no way for Sibyl to have known that Glisena was pregnant by Dmetrio, or that the baron would summon a midwife to the palace to end that pregnancy. That it had been Naneth the baron had chosen had been mere ill fortune.
Unless—and here was a chilling thought—Dmetrio was somehow involved. Had he gotten the baron’s daughter pregnant on purpose?
Another talk with Ambassador Extaminos was in order. It would have to be a very private talk, one in which Arvin would listen both to what was said—and what wasn’t being said.
In the meantime, he needed to send a warning. He stepped out into the hallway, pulled the lapis lazuli from his pocket, held it to his forehead, and spoke the command word. He concentrated, and the face of his mentor became clear in his mind—a deeply lined face framed by short gray hair, the eyes with a curious fold to the eyelid that marked Tanju as coming from the East.
Tanju blinked in surprise as the sending connected them then turned to listen to what Arvin had to say.
“Glisena is pregnant with Dmetrio’s child,” Arvin told him. “A midwife named Naneth helped Glisena hide. Naneth serves Sibyl. Sibyl hopes to use the child.”
Tanju nodded thoughtfully. He ran a hand through his hair as he composed his reply. “Learn what Sibyl intends. I will warn Lady Dediana.”
The connection faded. “Atmiya,” Arvin said, letting the lapis lazuli fall into his palm. He tucked it carefully back into his pocket and turned toward the stairs. Just as he was about to descend, he heard a creaking noise from below: the front door opening. Then a male voice called out. “Naneth?” The voice sounded hesitant, uncertain. Something moved in the hallway downstairs. It sounded like the clomping of a horse, though softer, like the footsteps of a foal.
