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He tensed, awaiting one in every of Sibyl’s fans to seem at any second. None did. The air was once cool and clammy, like chilly sweat. He chanced on himself lacking the stifling warmth he’d left at the back of. The staircase must have led to a hallway that led, in response to Villim’s textual content, to the temple. in its place, it led to a jumble of fallen stone. within the 8 centuries when you consider that Villim had penned his textual content, the ceiling should have collapsed. Arvin swore softly and kicked at a unfastened stone. It rolled—farther than it's going to have. Bending down, he found a slender hole, past which lay a much wider passage. Clearing away the rubble that blocked it, Arvin discovered it has to be the tunnel the yuan-ti had used to arrive the chamber within which they’d laid their eggs. It was once too low to move slowly via with a backpack on; he’d need to drag the pack at the back of him. He tied it via a quick size of rope to 1 ankle then lay providers and wormed his manner into the tunnel. The slim passage wound its manner throughout the collapsed masonry, up and over sharp bits of stone that scraped Arvin’s legs and arms and less than jutting blocks that he could have banged his head opposed to, had he now not been capable of see in the dead of night. Being in yuan-ti shape helped. His elevated flexibility enabled him to slither round corners a human could were not able to barter. At one aspect the tunnel constricted, forcing him to wriggle ahead on his stomach with palms prolonged in entrance of him. Claustrophobia gripped him a second later while his pack received stuck within the slender part, jerking him to a halt like an anchor. He used to be trapped! He might lie there, entombed with Varae’s sufferers, until eventually he starved to demise. He scraped on the rope round his ankle together with his different foot, attempting to unfastened himself from it—then discovered what he used to be doing. If he left the pack in the back of, he’d lose his likelihood to settle his rating with Sibyl—the abomination who had killed either his ally and the girl he enjoyed. “Control,” he whispered. He blinked away the sweat that trickled down into his eyes and licked his lips with an extended, forked tongue. The sweat tasted just a little acidic, reminding him that he was once in yuan-ti shape. The serpent people had wriggled via that slim spot to arrive their brood chamber, and Arvin could be capable of do an analogous. It was once only a subject of releasing his pack. He labored it backward and forward, prodding it with a foot, then jerked opposed to the rope tied to it. ultimately the pack got here loose. Relieved, he crawled on. The tunnel ended a quick distance forward, commencing right into a chamber illuminated with flickering pink mild that washed out Arvin’s darkvision. A hissing noise stuffed the chamber: the smooth, gradual exhalations of serpents. Dozens of them. Arvin despatched his brain deep into his muladhara, the resource of psionic strength that lay on the base of his backbone, then summoned strength up during the base of his scalp and into his brow. He despatched his understanding down the tunnel prior to him, into the chamber past. The options of the yuan-ti within it, despite the fact that, weren't what he’d anticipated. He’d been ready for guards, alert and suspicious.

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