When Arvin began to protest, she held up a hand. “As would you be, if you hadn’t proved stronger than the rest. But there is a way for you to avenge your friend’s death. Would you like to hear what it is?”

Arvin’s eyes narrowed. He could tell when he was being manipulated. How did this woman know for certain that Naulg was dead? Like Arvin, he might have fought off the draught of plague. He might still be alive-and a captive. Arvin nodded.

“I want to know more about the Pox-things that only a human can uncover,” she continued. “I’d be willing to pay for that information, providing the human was smart and knew how not to tip his hand.”

Arvin feigned only a passing interest by crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “How much?”

Zelia took a sip of her ale-not quite quickly enough to hide her smile. Her teeth were human-square and flat, rather than the slender, curved fangs some yuan-ti had. “Enough.”

It was Arvin’s turn to stare. “Why do you need a human?” he asked at last.

“The cultists won’t accept any other race into their ranks.”

Arvin wrinkled his nose in disgust as he realized what she was asking him to do. “You want me to join their cult? To worship that foul abomination of a goddess? Never!”

Zelia’s expression tightened. Too late, Arvin realized what he’d just said. “Abomination” was the word that humans elsewhere in the Vilhon Reach used to describe the yuan-ti who had the most snakelike characteristics. It was an insult that no human of Hlondeth ever dared use. It commonly provoked a sharp, swift-and fatal-bite in return, or a slow constriction.

Arvin swallowed nervously and half-closed his gloved hand, ready to call the dagger to it, but Zelia let the insult pass.

“To pretend to join their cult,” she said.

Arvin shook his head. “The answer is still no.”