by Lisa Smedman
"The Acropolis of Thanatos lies here, in this cavern." Her sword point shifted to a larger circle on the opposite side of the map. "We'll be portalling in here, at the Moondeep Sea. From there, we'll enter a played-out duergar mine, several tunnels of which eventually lead to the cavern that houses the Acropolis. Those passages will be well guarded, but this one-" the sword traced a line that snaked away from the sea, but stopped before reaching the first cavern she'd pointed out- "won't be. It's on one of the lowest levels of the mine and partially flooded. At its end is an entrance the Crones don't yet know about. It only just opened up, due to a recent collapse. They haven't found it because it's below water." Her sword tapped the drift disc again with a faint clank. "That's our way in."
Karas glanced at the map. "With respect, Lady Cavatina, there's something you're overlooking. We're a large group. Too large to hide easily, with members who aren't as skilled in stealth as Nightshadows. For this 'attack' to work, we need to hold the main force back and send in spies-and from more than one direction." His finger traced its own line across the map to the cavern of the Acropolis. "Enter the Crones' cavern not only by the route you just named, but also here, and here, and-"
"No." Cavatina's voice was firm. She tapped the map. "This will be the only unguarded route."
"My Nightshadows can slip past any guards."
"Once past them, they'll need the battle experience and singing swords of the Protectors. And the spells of the wizards. No, we stick together." She paused. "Qilue's orders."
Karas bowed, but not before Q'arlynd spotted a flash of anger in his eyes.
Cavatina went on to describe the Acropolis itself. The temple, she told them, was situated on an island in the middle of a lake-filled cavern. A cavern immediately recognizable by the thousands of skulls spiked into its stone ceiling. The island had once been home to V'elddrinnsshar, a drow city that fell a century ago to plague-a remark that raised nervous murmurs in the assembled crowd. Cavatina assured them the plague was long gone. She reminded them that the ruined city was home to much more potent dangers: Kiaransalee's priestesses and their undead minions.
She touched what looked like a square wooden bead tied about her upper left arm. All of the priestesses and Nightshadows wore a similar bead. "These phylacteries will help my clerics and priestesses fight the undead." She turned to the wizards. "I assume you've made similar preparations?"
"Indeed we have, Lady," Gilkriz said, nodding down at one of the rings on his ever-drumming fingers. Beside him, Mazeer lifted one arm, drawing attention to the wands sheathed in her bracer. Jyzrill simply snorted, as if his scowl would be enough to wither undead where they stood.
"My staff will warn me," Daffir said.
"As will my trinkets," said Khorl.
"We're protected," said Eldrinn, indicating both Q'arlynd and himself.
Q'arlynd nodded in agreement. Master Seldszar had given the boy half a dozen potions; each would provide complete concealment from undead creatures-for a time. Three of these rested in Q'arlynd's pocket for "safekeeping."
"I hope so," Cavatina said. "If it comes to a battle, we won't just face mindless animated corpses. Many Crones embrace undeath themselves, or rise as revenants when slain, as Karas can personally attest."
Karas looked uncomfortable-a fact Q'arlynd noted with more than a little alarm. Cavatina had spilled something the Nightshadow hadn't wanted her to. She didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. At the first opportunity, Q'arlynd would have to speak to the Darksong Knight. He didn't want her mentioning his role in Vhaeraun's death. Not with six Nightshadows at his back.
Karas cleared his throat. "I have indeed seen Crones rise as revenants. And as something more than revenants. I was in Maerimydra when it fell to the army of Kurgoth Hellspawn. In the aftermath of that battle, the traitors of House T'sarran seized control of the city in Kiaransalee's name. Among their ranks were spirits whose wailing scythed down dozens of mortals where they stood." He paused, then added grimly, "A small taste of what will await us at the Acropolis of Thanatos."
Once again, the hall filled with uneasy murmurs.
"We're prepared," Cavatina said confidently. She nodded at the halfling priestess.
The halfling-an odd-looking individual with copper-colored hair and skin stained black as a drow's-reached into her pouch and pulled out what resembled a ball of fired clay tufted with feathers. "Silence stones," she said in a voice that was surprisingly husky for such a small person. She patted a sling tucked into her belt in the place where a scabbard would normally hang, but her sword was strapped to her back.
Cavatina turned back to the group. "If others among you also have the ability to create magical silence, I suggest you review those spells before we leave. Next to the singing swords, they're our best defense."
Q'arlynd felt Eldrinn nudging his arm. He glanced at the boy and saw Eldrinn's quick question. You?
Q'arlynd shook his head slightly. You?
No.
Cavatina continued her briefing, warning them of the various forms of undead sure to populate the Acropolis. Q'arlynd listened attentively, eyes focused on the drift-disc map as he memorized all possible routes between the Moondeep and the Acropolis. Just in case.
"It's not just undead we have to watch out for," Karas added. "I grew up in the Deep Wastes and know its dangers." He held up a hand and counted off fingers. "Purple worms, delvers, umber hulks…" He glanced around. "If any of you feels the tiniest vibration, I want to hear about it."
"Thank you, Karas, for the warning," Cavatina said. She turned to the others. "Knowing what to avoid for in the Deep Wastes will be valuable."
"What to watch for, you mean," Karas interjected. "If a fresh tunnel's been bored we might be able to make use of it. Shorten the distance."
"No," Cavatina said firmly. "We stick to the route we've chosen. We don't want to wander into any dead ends and get trapped."
"How do we know the route you've chosen won't be a trap?" Karas protested. "If the Crones have found out about it-"
Cavatina's eyes smoldered. "They haven't."
Karas frowned. "How did you learn of this route?"
"Through our allies in the Deep Wastes."
Khorl cleared his throat. "What allies would those be, Lady?"
Cavatina seemed relieved to answer someone else's question. "The svirfneblin."
Q'arlynd's eyes widened in surprise. For a fleeting instant, he wondered if his former slave might have wound up in the Deep Wastes. It had been a long time since Q'arlynd had last seen Flinderspeld, and over the past year and a half, he'd often wondered how the deep gnome was faring. But Silverymoon was a long way from the Moondeep. More than five hundred leagues.
Karas's eyebrows rose. "Deep gnomes, helping drow?" He looked as if he wanted to laugh. "The svirfneblin hate us. They'll lead us into an ambush or hand us over to the Crones."
"No, they won't," Cavatina said. "The svirfneblin hate the Crones. And they don't hate all drow; they trust in Eilistraee's grace. They'll act as our guides on this expedition. They have already braved much to scout the way to the Acropolis. One of them drowned while tracing the route through the flooded cavern." Her eyes locked on Karas. "Please remember that sacrifice, and treat the svirfneblin with respect when we meet them."
Karas inclined his head. Slightly. "To each who contributes to our mission, I will give his fair due."
Judging by the expressions of the priestesses, Q'arlynd wasn't the only one to note the choice of gender.
Cavatina finished her briefing and asked for questions. There were several. Q'arlynd waited until most had been answered, lest he seem anxious. Then he cleared his throat and asked his question in an offhanded tone. "Lady, a question. Will our passage through the portal be a oneway trip?"
"No. Once we accomplish our mission, we'll use the portal to return. But bear in mind that it only functions between moonrise and moonset when the moon is magically 'reflected' on its surface."
Q'arlynd raised his ha
nd again. "If we're unable to scry the surface, how will we know when the moon has risen?"
"The Moondeep is a magical sea," Cavatina answered. "When Selune shines on the Moonsea above, its reflection also illuminates the waters of the Moondeep. Hence the name. But you don't have to worry. The priestesses will open the portal." She looked around. "Any other questions?"
There were a handful.
The overall plan was in place. Once inside the cavern that housed the Acropolis, they would make their way across the lake to infiltrate the temple, some under cover of invisibility, others by rendering themselves ethereal. Still others would use illusion to disguise themselves as undead. . "Once we're on the island, we will slay as many of Kiaransalee's priestesses as possible," Cavatina reminded them. "But our goal is to find out what's augmenting the Faerzress. The moment any of you discovers anything you even think might be significant, report your findings to Qilue. Just speak her name, and she will hear you. She'll relay your findings to the rest of us and guide us from there."
She shifted her attention to the wizards. "You will, of course, be tempted to report to the masters of your respective colleges first. That's only natural. But remember this. Your masters do not control the Moonspring Portal. We do. With teleportation blocked, it's the only way drow can access an area close to the Acropolis. If our expedition runs into trouble, it will be the Promenade coming to our aid." She paused. "I realize that vows mean little in the cities where many of you were born, but I give you my solemn word on this. Anything that is reported to Qilue will be passed on to your masters immediately. We all have a stake in this. Cooperation is the key."
The priestesses around her nodded. Q'arlynd dutifully bobbed his head while noting Gilkriz's faintly skeptical look. He also noted the way the other Nightshadows drew closer to Karas, whose fingers made a quick gesture Q'arlynd couldn't read.
The priestesses broke into song again. Q'arlynd wished they'd just get going. Two days had passed since he met Miverra in Sshamath. In eight days more, perhaps less, divination magic would become impossible in Sshamath and the College of Divination would fall. And with it would go Q'arlynd's dreams of becoming one of Sshamath's masters.
For the time being, there was still a chance to stave off the looming crisis.
Assuming, he thought as he glanced around at the clearly visible factions, this group held together long enough.
CHAPTER 7
Halisstra hummed softly, using her bae'qeshel magic to conceal herself from sight. Slowly she descended on a thread of web toward the pair who walked below. The tree she lurked in was thick with leaves. Though they rustled slightly during her descent, the male and female below didn't seem to notice. The couple was in the throes of a heated argument, their raised voices obscuring the slight sounds from above.
"-why we need to keep up this pretense," the male said. " 'She' is no longer 'Lady' anything-just listen to her voice!"
"Eilistraee is still female," his companion insisted. "She assumed the mask-and the voice-as an encouragement for you to join her faith. You chose to acknowledge her as your patron deity. Now you must pay her the proper respect."
"I chose nothing," the male answered. "My hand was forced."
"You could have gone off with the others-the ones who think a portion of Vhaeraun is still alive, somewhere on the Astral Plane."
"He is alive. He lives inside Eilistraee."
"She killed him."
"Vhaeraun allowed his body to be stripped away so he might join with her. The resulting union is the Masked Lord and Lady of the Dance in one. Either title is equally appropriate. Your faith is a matriarchy no more."
"Our faith, for better or worse. We-"
The pair moved on. Halisstra landed gently on the trail they'd just passed along. Her glimpse of them through the moon-dappled branches had confirmed that both were drow. The male wore black leather armor and a soft black mask, and was armed with a wristbow on each forearm. The female wore mithral chainmail over her clothes and carried a sword and shield. An astonishing sight: a priestess of Eilistraee and a cleric of Vhaeraun, patrolling a stretch of the Forest of Shadows together. And doing a poor job of it.
Halisstra pointed at a branch ahead of the pair and off to one side in the forest. She sang a brief melody. The branch bent then sprang back. The pair gave a start, then leaped into action. The male signaled flank left and fell back along the trail, toward the spot where the invisible Halisstra crouched. As the female cautiously moved ahead, Halisstra whispered her song a second time, causing a rustling deeper in the woods. The female moved through the trees in pursuit of whatever she imagined was lurking at the side of the trail.
In another moment the pair would realize they'd been tricked-but a moment was all Halisstra needed.
The male had shrouded himself in darkness, but Halisstra's eyes penetrated his flimsy concealment. She sprang at him. He whirled and raised both fists, his wristbows thrumming. One of the bolts glanced harmlessly off Halisstra's hardened skin. The second punched into her torso just beneath her left breast. It stung-but the puncture immediately began to heal, pushing the bolt outward. The poison that coated it did nothing to slow her. Grabbing the cleric by his outstretched arms, she yanked him close and sank her fangs into his neck. Pain stiffened his body. His eyes rolled back in his head. Then he gave a soft grunt and sagged in her arms.
Halisstra, visible for the time being, examined his body. Her single bite had only rendered the cleric unconscious. She spun him, laying on a thin coating of web. Then, clutching the sticky body to her chest with her spider legs, she sprang into a nearby tree. Swift as a spider, she swarmed up its trunk and deposited the cleric in the crook of a branch.
A moment later, Eilistraee's priestess reappeared below. "Glorst?" she whispered. She glanced around, then squatted and touched something on the ground. Web glinted on her fingers as she rose. She touched the holy symbol that hung against her chest and glanced up.
Halisstra waved down at her, releasing a spray of hair-thin web.
The priestess sang a shrill note and grabbed a beam of moonlight that appeared over her head. She hurled it like a lance at Halisstra. The moonbeam plunged into Halisstra's stomach, droning through her vitals and leaving them feeling loose and watery. Bloody bile rose in her throat. Even as she choked it down she felt her damaged organs mending.
"Why do you attack me, priestess?" she gasped. "I've done nothing to you."
The priestess yanked a hunting horn from her belt and blew a strident plea for help. Halisstra knew no one would arrive in time. She'd deliberately chosen an ambush point on the outskirts of the shrine's territory.
The crossbow bolt had nearly worked its way free of Halisstra's ribs. She yanked it out and tossed it down. "Your companion tried to kill me," she told the priestess. "And yet…" She lifted the cleric's body and tossed it down. "I showed mercy."
The unconscious cleric tumbled through the branches, the sticky webbing that coated him slowing his descent. He landed with barely a thud on the forest floor.
The priestess frantically sang a protective hymn.
"Don't you know who I am?" Halisstra cried. "Why do you fear me?"
"Your tricks won't work on me, demon," the priestess shouted back. Though her sword was steady enough in her hand, her voice quavered. She bent to touch fingers lightly to her companion's throat.
The gesture told Halisstra everything she needed to know: the pair were more than fellow clerics. No one but a lust-addled fool would pause to check if her consort was alive. Halisstra had made the right decision in not killing the male outright.
"I came to beg your help," she told the priestess. "And instead of showing Eilistraee's mercy, you and your male try to kill me." She leaped to the ground, clutched herself as she landed, and pretended to stagger. She forced herself to vomit, filling the air with the tang of bilious blood.
To her credit, the priestess didn't flinch. Even though Halisstra loomed over her, she stepped between Halisstra and the paral
yzed male.
"I mean you no harm," Halisstra continued. "I'm looking for Lady Cavatina. She promised to help me." She looked down at her misshapen hands. "I wasn't always a monster. I was a priestess, like yourself, until I was transformed by Lolth's foul magic."
Doubt showed for the first time in the priestess's eyes. "Who are you?"
"Halisstra Melarn."
"No," the priestess whispered-but the word held no conviction. She lowered her sword slightly. "By Eilistraee's silver tresses, is it true?"
Halisstra lifted a hand, hesitated, then held out fingers that were dark with blood from her wounds. "It's true," she sang.
Into those two brief words, she spun powerful magic. The priestess's expression softened. She sheathed her sword. "I'm so sorry," she said. "Had I known-"
Halisstra waved the apology away, spiderwebs drifting from her hand. "How could you have known? I was captured by yochlols and subjected to…" She lowered her voice to a hoarse whisper, "… unthinkable torments. For nearly two years, I languished in the Demonweb Pits before at last escaping."
The priestess frowned. "Two years? Lady Halisstra, it has been nearly five years since you set out for the Demonweb Pits with the Crescent Blade."
"And nearly two years ago that I escaped-and returned to the Demonweb Pits with Lady Cavatina, to slay Selvetarm."
"But…" The priestess's frown deepened. "It was Lady Cavatina who killed Selvetarm… wasn't it?"
"With my help."
"Then why do the odes say nothing of-"
"Aside from Lady Qilue, only Cavatina knew that I still lived. And Cavatina has a Darksong Knight's pride. She would hardly have admitted to letting Lolth's minions capture me a second time, would she? Better not to mention my involvement at all. To pretend that I had died years before, during Lolth's Silence."
At the word "died," the priestess glanced down at the male. The cleric didn't look good; his eyes had fully rolled back in his head and his skin was turning gray. Halisstra reached out and lifted the priestess's chin, forcing her to look away. "It's only a weak venom," she lied. "You have plenty of time to heal him. Plenty of time, still."
