Omitting any mention of his transaction with Naulg, Arvin reiterated the events that had taken place a short time ago: his fight with the doxy and her accomplice, finding himself in the sewage chamber, being force-fed the poison, the terrible anguish it had produced, and escaping in the rowboat. He watched Zelia closely as he told his tale, but her expression didn’t change. She listened most attentively as he described the chamber where the force-feeding had taken place, stopping him more than once to ask for more detail, including full descriptions of the people who had abducted him. She made him describe each person’s appearance and exactly what had been said. Arvin concluded with a description of the statue. “The wood was rotted, but it was definitely a statue of a woman. The hands were raised, as if reaching-”

“Talona.”

“Is that a name?” Arvin asked. He’d never heard it before.

“Lady of Poison, Mistress of Disease, Mother of Death,” Zelia intoned.

Arvin shuddered. “Yes. That’s what they called her.”

“Goddess of sickness and disease,” Zelia continued, “a lesser-known goddess, not commonly worshiped in the Vilhon Reach. Her followers only recently surfaced in Hlondeth.”

“Last night was a sacrifice, then,” Arvin said.

“Yes. It is how they appease their goddess. They appeal to Talona to take another life, so she will continue to spare their own.”

“That’s why they fed us the poison.”

“Yes,” Zelia said. “Sometimes they use poison and sometimes plague. Usually, a mix of both.”

Arvin felt his face grow pale. “Plague,” he said in a hoarse voice. Had there been plague mixed with the poison they’d forced him to drink? He gripped the edge of the table and stared at his hands, wondering if his skin would suddenly erupt into terrible, weeping blisters.

Just at that moment, his ale arrived.