“This?” Arvin touched the lapis lazuli on his forehead. The fingernail-sized chip of stone was a spot of warmth against his chilled skin, joined by magic with his flesh—and joined with his thoughts, when its command word was spoken. He’d put it on as soon once the ship was safely away from Hlondeth and had left it in place since. There didn’t seem to be any reason to hide it anymore. Zelia—the stone’s original owner—was far behind him now, gods be praised.
“It’s just a decoration,” he answered at last.
“I see.” She glanced away, seemingly losing interest.
“You’re from the south?” Arvin asked, hoping to continue the conversation.
She nodded.
“I’m from Hlondeth, myself.”
That got her attention. She studied him a moment. “You are not a yuan-ti.”
“No. My name’s Vin,” he said, using an abbreviation that was as common as cobblestones in Hlondeth. “And yours is… ?”
She paused, as if deciding whether to answer. “Karrell.”
“You’re going to Ormpetarr?” It was an unnecessary question, since the only reason anyone would be taking this wagon would be to reach the riverboats that plied the Lower Nagaflow.
She nodded.
“Me too,” Arvin continued. He plunged into the carefully rehearsed story that would explain his presence in Sespech. “I’m an agent for Mariners’ Mercantile. I hope to encourage Baron Foesmasher to buy from our rope factories. Those new ships he’s building are going to require good strong hemp for their rigging.” He patted the backpack on the seat beside him. “I’ve brought samples of our finest lines to show him.”
Karrell raised an eyebrow. “You are meeting with the baron?” She glanced at his cloak—woven from coarse brown wool—and the worn boots that protruded from the blanket draped over his legs.
Behind her, the driver chuckled into his beard and flicked his reins.
“These are my traveling clothes,” Arvin explained. She obviously thought he was a braggart, trying to impress her. He drew himself up straighter. “I’ll change into something more suitable once I arrive in Ormpetarr, before going to the palace. Ambassador Extaminos has graciously agreed to introduce me to—”
“Dmetrio Extaminos?”
Arvin blinked. “You know him?”
“I know his work. He has a great love of architecture. He restored the Serpent Arch, the first Hall of Extaminos, and the Coiled Tower.” She paused to stare at Arvin, as if expecting a reaction.
He shrugged. “Old buildings don’t interest me.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Karrell tossed her head. “They interest
Arvin realized there might be more to the woman than just a pretty face. “Are you an architect?” He glanced at the bag at her feet. Like him, she was traveling light.
“Architecture interests me,” she said. “I make sketches of buildings.” She tilted her head. “Old buildings.”
Arvin scrambled to salvage the conversation. He dredged up what little he knew about the subject, casting his mind back to the “lessons” the priests had given at the orphanage—lessons that were delivered to the backs of the children’s heads while they worked. The lessons helped the priests convince themselves they were educating and instructing the children, not just profiting from their labors.
“The Coiled Tower was built in….” Damn, the date had eluded him. Was it 641 or 614? He could never remember. “In the year of the city’s independence,” he continued, reciting what he remembered of his lessons. “The Extaminos Family erected it to honor the snakes that saved Hlondeth from the kobolds. The ones Lord Shevron summoned with his prayers. The snakes, that is—not the kobolds.”
Karrell’s lips twitched. A smile?
“The year was 614,” she said. “Eighty-five years after your people and mine first made contact.”
“Your people?” Arvin prompted.
“My father’s tribe.” Karrell made a dismissive gesture. “You will not know their name.”
“I might,” Arvin said. “Where did you say you were from?”
“The south.”
She was right. He knew little of the people to the south and probably wouldn’t have recognized the name of her tribe. But he wasn’t completely ignorant of geography. “By your accent, I’d say you were from the Chultan Peninsula,” he commented. “That’s where the flying snakes come from, isn’t it?”
She gave him a sharp look.
She obviously didn’t like snakes—they had that much in common, at least. Arvin quickly changed the subject. “You must have been traveling a long time,” he continued. “What places have you visited?”
“I was most recently in Hlondeth, sketching the buildings that Dmetrio Extaminos was restoring. I had hoped to meet him and talk to him about his project but learned he had returned to Sespech to take up the ambassador’s post.”
“Is that why you came to Sespech?” Arvin asked.
Karrell shook her head. “No. I came to sketch the palace at Ormpetarr. But I am glad to have met you.” She leaned forward and rested a hand on Arvin’s knee. “Will you introduce me to Dmetrio Extaminos?”
