by Lisa Smedman
"Agreed," Karas said. "Before whatever killed the svirfneblin realizes we're here."
"No," Cavatina countered. "We stay here. Conceal ourselves and watch the lake." She did, however, call back the Protector and the Nightshadow who were down at the lake's edge. No sense taking chances.
Another sending came: One thousand paces in. With a chuckle in her voice, Halav added. Still nothing-except for a pair of boots, this time.
Cavatina frowned. Boots? She glanced down at where the svirfneblin's body lay. How large are they?
Small. Child-sized.
The Nightshadow whom Karas had sent down the tunnel reappeared and signaled that the way was clear.
"That's it," Karas said. "We're going." His forefinger flicked a signal to the other Nightshadows. Move out.
"Hold it right there," Cavatina barked.
The Nightshadows hesitated. They glanced between Karas and Cavatina.
She rounded on Karas. "We're having this out, here and now," she said in a low voice. "Qilue put me in charge of this expedition, not you. Eilistraee deemed it should be so. Do you dare risk displeasing her by disobeying me?"
Without waiting for his answer, she turned to the others. "My priestess just found a pair of boots in the tunnel." She pointed down at the dead svirfneblin. "Gnome-sized boots. If they're his, maybe he was forced to run before he could put them on. Whatever killed him might still be lurking in the tunnel."
"You heard Daffir's prophecy," Karas countered. "Whatever's going to attack us is out there. Submerged in the Moondeep."
"'Attack us?'" Cavatina echoed. She shook her head at Karas. She was fed up with this. "Tell you what. I'll call my priestess back. You, personally, can take her place. That way, if something does rise out of the Moondeep, you'll be in a nice, safe place where nothing's going to-"
A faint wail came from deep in the tunnel: the sound of a singing sword in combat. The Protector's sending came a heartbeat later: Undead! Huge! Its head alone blocks the-
The sending cut off abruptly.
Fall back, Cavatina sent back at Halav. We're coming. She pointed briskly at the Protectors. "You, you, and you, follow me. The rest of you wait here. Whatever Daffir sensed isn't in the lake-it's in the tunnel. We'll draw it back here. Attack when it emerges."
To her surprise, Karas nodded briskly. Gilkriz did the same. As Cavatina sprinted away down the tunnel, the three Protectors close on her heels, she glanced over her shoulder and saw some of the wizards levitating away from the opening of the tunnel and others vanishing. Daffir, however, remained in plain sight, leaning on his staff and nodding.
She kept running. The floor of the tunnel was flat. Cavatina and the priestesses made good speed. The sound of Halav's singing sword-and the howls of whatever she fought-grew louder. Then Halav was in sight.
The Protector battled furiously, her sword a melodic blur as she hacked at the thing that blocked the tunnel: an enormous head, large as a giant's. It crept along the tunnel on a tentacle-like nest of writhing veins, its enormous mouth opening and closing as it came. Other, smaller heads bulged out of its forehead and cheeks as it slithered along. These screamed or moaned piteously as they broke the skin, then fell silent as they sank back into it again.
Even from a distance, Cavatina felt the waves of fear pulsing off the thing. She raised her singing sword in front of her as she ran and felt it slice through the magical fear, sending it sloughing off to each side. Only a hundred paces remained; they were almost there.
Rearing up, the monstrosity pointed a tentacle at Halav. "Die," it croaked.
Halav stiffened. Her sword drooped in her hand, its singing fading to a moan. But Halav was strong and shielded by Eilistraee's blessings. Shaking off the creature's spell, she staggered back.
"Halav!" Cavatina cried. "We're right behind you. Fall back!"
Cavatina was close enough to get a good look at the smaller faces that bulged out of the monstrous head. One of them was gray-skinned and bald: a svirfneblin. She grabbed her holy symbol as she ran, intending to sing a prayer. "Fall back, Halav!" she shouted. "You're in the way."
Halav tried to back away, but a tentacle whipped out and coiled around her chest. It snapped taut, yanking her off her feet. It pulled the failing priestess head-first toward the gaping mouth. Teeth snapped shut, severing her neck.
"No!" Cavatina cried.
The tentacle flung the headless body aside. A heartbeat later, Halav's face bulged out of the monstrous head's cheek, screaming.
Cavatina shouted a prayer. A bolt of moonlight streaked from her hand like a thrown lance. It slammed into the enormous forehead in the same instant that two other magical attacks flew past her: a streak of holy fire and a sparkling sheen of positive energy that rippled down the tunnel like diamond dust carried by ripples on a pond. The enormous head rocked back on its tentacles as they struck.
That was it. Cavatina's chance. She leaped forward, sword raised-
A tentacle lashed out, slapping against her breastplate. A weak blow, not enough to halt her charge, but Cavatina felt a rush of pain. Her chest was warm and wet. Bloody. The thing had used magic to wound her, magic that had bypassed her armor.
She staggered back and gasped out a healing prayer. She expected the creature to follow her, to try to snatch her with a tentacle, yet it remained where it was. One of the smaller heads disappeared with a wet pop, like a boil bursting. The enormous mouth creaked open wide, as if taking a deep breath.
"Tash'kla!" Cavatina shouted. "Ward us!"
In the same instant the Protector behind Cavatina sang out her prayer, the undead head gave a ghastly wail. A chill swept through Cavatina, weakening her. Then the ward muted the sound. Cavatina and the three priestesses behind her remained standing, saved by Eilistraee's blessing.
She flung out an arm, pointing. "Get Halav's body out of here!" At the same time, she pressed home her attack.
A tentacle lashed out at her, and she sliced it off. The undead thing drew back, its smaller heads bulging then disappearing again, all of them howling and screaming. Cavatina thrust at the spot where Halav's face bulged-a mercy blow-but her sword point struck an invisible shield and skewed to the side. Momentarily unbalanced, she staggered and nearly fell. She quickly recovered, dancing out of range of yet another tentacle. Risking a glance behind her, she saw two of the Protectors lifting Halav's headless body and hurrying away. The halfling Brindell scooped up Halav's singing sword in one hand while whirling her sling. Before Cavatina could order her not to, she let fly one of her magical pellets.
Suddenly, Cavatina was fighting in utter silence. She could see the smaller heads screaming as they rose like boils, then sank away again into the morbid flesh. Her sword vibrated in her hands yet she couldn't hear the sharp smack of it hitting flesh or the sound of its singing.
Brindell had silenced the head, but she'd snared Cavatina, as well. Cavatina had been about to sing a prayer, but couldn't.
She danced backward, fighting with one hand. By my side! she signed with her free hand. A fighting retreat.
Together with the halfling she fell back, always just a few paces from the monstrous head, which came on in eerie silence. Halav had been right: it completely filled the tunnel. There was no way to squeeze past it, and there seemed precious little they could do to defeat it. Prayers that would have reduced a lesser undead creature to an inert mass of flesh had no effect, and the head could throw a magical shield in front of itself at will. It slithered relentlessly along on its tentacles, bearing down on the two retreating priestesses.
The magical silence that enveloped the head abruptly fell away. Its smaller heads shrieking in agony, the monster head slithered up the wall as though weightless. It seemed to be avoiding the floor of the tunnel. Why?
Cavatina glanced down. The floor was slippery from the water that had dribbled from their wet clothing when they ran into the tunnel. A tentacle brushed against it, then recoiled.
Cavatina smiled. Now she knew how to defeat the t
hing.
She twisted around and snapped out a sending to the female wizard. Mazeer! Fill the tunnel with water. Now!
A moment later, a sloshing rumble filled the corridor behind them. "Hold your breath!" Cavatina shouted at Brindell.
A wall of water slammed into them, sweeping both priestesses off their feet. Cavatina crashed into the monstrous head, barely managing to keep hold of her sword. Tentacles flailed at her arms, legs, torso. One wrapped around her and squeezed, driving the air from her lungs. Then it slipped away. The wall of flesh buckled and the cacophony of the smaller heads turned to a weak gurgling. Then the head broke apart. The water shoved Cavatina and Brindell forward, carrying them along in a wave of disintegrating flesh and sodden bone.
Cavatina clambered to her feet as the slimy water receded in a reeking wave. Brindell lay gasping on the floor, and Cavatina helped her to her feet. "Are you injured?"
Brindell shook her head. "I'm fine," she gasped. She bent to pick up the singing sword and her sling.
A moment later, feet splashed up the tunnel toward them. Karas skidded to a halt in front of Cavatina and stared at the remains of the head. "What in the Abyss were you fighting?"
"A giant's head," Cavatina answered, still panting from the fight. "Raised from the dead and animated to move about on its own. The lakewater disintegrated it."
Two more Nightshadows hurried up the tunnel toward them. With a flick of his hand, Karas sent them a few paces beyond the spot where they stood to keep watch. His eyes were thoughtful as he glanced down at the smear of putrid flesh on the floor.
"Looks like you guessed right about the boots," he conceded. "The thing Daffir warned us about was in the tunnel, after all. But how did you know water would-"
"Daffir's prophecy," Cavatina said. "He said he knew where it was 'going.' " She pointed back toward the main cavern. "To the Moondeep. In pieces." She shook her head. "No wonder he was so nonchalant when the rest of the group scattered. He foresaw victory."
Karas nodded. He peered down the tunnel. "Was there just the one head?"
Cavatina was suddenly angry." 'Just the one' was enough to kill Halav," she snapped.
Karas looked contrite. "My apologies, Lady. I meant no disrespect."
Cavatina sighed. "Where is her body now?"
"I ordered Gilkriz to ready his magical boat and place her body in it, so she could be rowed back to the portal. I realized she would need to be returned to the Promenade. She'll need resurrection, since she's not… whole."
Cavatina nodded wearily. So soon into their mission, and already one of those under her command was dead. Halav would be resurrected and made whole again, Eilistraee willing, but that was a process that took time. Karas was correct in his guess that the prayer couldn't be attempted there. Surprisingly, he'd anticipated the very order Cavatina had been about to give. He'd even done her the courtesy of waiting, so she might give the order herself. "Thank you, Karas."
She considered her options, speaking aloud. "We're going to need the Protectors if we encounter more of these heads. We'll send one of your Nightshadows back with the body to the Promenade."
"That won't be possible."
"Why not?"
Karas gave an elaborate shrug. "None of them knows the hymn that opens the portal."
Cavatina was startled. "They weren't taught it?"
"No. It's as if our voices weren't wanted."
"That's not true."
Karas shrugged. "You could teach one of us the hymn of opening, of course, but by then the moon will have set-and the body's return will be delayed until tomorrow. If another of those heads shows up in the meantime…" Karas glanced over his shoulder-probably hiding the smirk in his eyes.
Cavatina clenched her teeth and stared past him. Karas was right, Abyss take him. It would have to be a Protector who took Halav's body back.
The goodwill she'd been feeling earlier evaporated. Karas was using Halav's death to tip the scales in his favor. With one of her Protectors slain and a second returned to the temple, only four Protectors would be left under Cavatina's command. As compared to six Nightshadows-including the openly rebellious Karas. That imbalance would persist until tomorrow's moonrise, when whichever priestess accompanied Halav's body back to the Promenade was at last able to return. The group would probably be long gone from the Moondeep by then.
Without another word, she strode back to the main cavern and instructed the most junior of the Protectors to return to the temple with the body. That priestess looked angry at being ordered back, but immediately bowed. "Eilistraee's will be done, Lady."
The Protector climbed into Gilkriz's boat and sat down next to Halav's body. Gilkriz settled in beside her and spoke its command word. The paddles rose and fell of their own accord, swiftly carrying the boat out toward the shimmering crescent of moonlight at the middle of the lake.
Cavatina, meanwhile, signaled for the others to gather around her. "I've reached a decision," she told them. "That… thing… was obviously the Crones' work. They must be patrolling this far, so we have to expect more of the same. As soon as Gilkriz rows back, we're going to move away from here, without our guide. We'll see if Khorl can show us the way. But one of us will remain here, in case the guide shows up." She glanced around the group. "Who else of you, besides the Protectors, can sing a sending?"
The Nightshadows glanced at Karas. He made no noticeable gesture, but a heartbeat later they all shook their heads. So did the wizards.
"None of you?" Cavatina asked. She found that hard to believe. It was more likely a matter of nobody wanting to be left behind on their own. Such cowardly behavior was to be expected of Nightshadows. In the wizards it was inexcusable.
"Q'arlynd," she said.
The wizard tensed.
"You're on good terms with the svirfneblin. You're the logical choice. You will stay."
He looked imploringly at her. "But I can't cast a sending. How will I-"
"Simply follow us. Catch up. You studied the map carefully; I'm sure you know the way." Anticipating his next protest, she added, "You need only wait here until the next moonrise. When Chizra returns, you'll have a sword at your side." As she spoke, she surreptitiously touched her holy symbol, weaving Eilistraee's magic into her words.
Q'arlynd cocked his head at the young wizard next to him. "With your permission, Lady Cavatina, I'd like Eldrinn to remain here as well. To watch with me, until Chizra's return."
The younger mage glanced sidelong at the other two diviners. "I can't, Q'arlynd. Father ordered me to-"
"Eldrinn comes with us, and you stay," Cavatina told Q'arlynd. "That's final."
She saw Q'arlynd's jaw tense, but he was quick to hide his anger. His face was expressionless as he bowed. "As you command, Lady Cavatina."
CHAPTER 8
Halisstra picked at the callus on her palm as she squatted on a ridge above the opening in the forest. At the center of the clearing, the dark waters of a pool reflected the stars above. Soon these pinpricks of light would be joined by the reflection of the rising moon. Then Halisstra would strike.
Two priestesses stood watch over the Shilmista Forest pool. Each wore chainmail and a mithral breastplate embossed with Eilistraee's moon and sword and had a hunting horn slung at her hip. One walked back and forth at the far side of the pool, her sword blade lightly resting on her shoulder. The other stood in a more formal guard position a few steps deeper into the forest, her two-handed sword held point-up in front of her as if ready for inspection. Both were drow, capable of seeing equally well in moonlight and shadow.
Though both watched the surrounding forest carefully, Halisstra observed something interesting. Neither paid much attention to the ridge where she hid. A quick bae'qeshel song revealed why: a third guard stood directly below Halisstra on the near side of the pool, cloaked in invisibility. He was clad all in black and wore Vhaeraun's mask. A brace of throwing daggers was strapped to his chest, and a hand crossbow was on one wrist.
Halisstra was twi
ce the size of any one of the drow below and more powerful than the three of them combined. She could easily rend them with her claws or dispatch them with venomous bites. But she could not take down three at once, even with magic. One would certainly sound the alarm before they all died. To use the portal pool, Halisstra needed time to puzzle out its mysteries. She needed to kill all three guards swiftly and silently. But how?
She picked at her hand. The callus constantly burned, the pain secondary only to the throb of the punctures that Lolth's handmaidens had inflicted-punctures that would never heal. These were constant reminders of Halisstra's servitude to the goddess Lolth-and to Lolth's demonic minion.
"Wendonai," Halisstra breathed. Her lips twisted with the word. She hated the demon almost as much as she hated herself. She needed to deliver Cavatina to him. To free herself, and even more importantly, to prove herself to Lolth. The priestesses and cleric, below, were boulders that blocked that tunnel.
A warm breeze shivered through the leaves next to her, carrying with it a strange scent. None of the three below reacted to it, yet Halisstra's heightened senses detected it at once. A strange combination of sweetness and putridity, it smelled like perfume sprinkled on rotten meat. She'd smelled it once before, while roaming the Demonweb Pits.
She sniffed again to be sure.
Dread blossoms? Here, on Toril?
The breeze stilled.
"Wendonai," Halisstra whispered again-with a smile.
She crept away from the ridge and sprang into the tree-tops. Scuttling through them like a spider, leaving a trail of webs in her wake, she headed in the direction the scent had come from. It took her a while to locate its source, but eventually she spotted a dead moose. The massive creature lay on its side, legs thrust out stiffly. Lodged in its flesh were half a dozen dread blossoms. Their stalks pulsed as they extracted the last of the animal's blood. Gold and black pollen drifted out of the cup-shaped crimson flowers, dusting both the dead animal and the forest floor on which it lay.
