lay the corpses of two children, mere toddlers. Doljust tossed his cloak over the bodies. Then he started a fire at the cave's entrance, drew his sword, and waited.
The dogs paced behind their master. Soon, forced from its lair by the smoke, a were-bat came hurtling toward Doljust with an awful shriek. The creature was in its hybrid form, with the wings and head of a bat but the torso of a man. It raked at Doljust with the claws at the ends of its wings. The man raised his sword and swung.
Beshaba touched the pool again.
Goaded by the goddess's magic, one of Doljust's hounds forgot its training and leapt toward the were-bat's throat just as its master's sword came swinging downward. The blade sliced across the hound's ribs.
The dog gave a horrible howl, which echoed about the audience.
The were-bat flew clear of Doljust and landed on the mare's saddle. With a cackling laugh, it kicked the horse in the ribs. Doljust hollered, but the mare was frenzied with fear and galloped off into the darkness.
There were tears in Doljust's eyes as he examined his injured and apparently dying hound.
Beshaba touched the pool again.
The other hound whimpered behind him. Doljust whirled about, slicing his sword into a small were-bat as it flew from the cave.
The bat crashed to the ground, dealt a mortal wound.
Then, before Doljust's eyes, it transformed to a small child, a little boy with curly golden hair.
'Grandpa,' the boy gasped with his last breath.
Doljust's screams rang out through the sensorium.
Beshaba laughed a horrible, maniacal laugh.
The darkness dispersed.
Ayryn's crystal ball fell to the floor with a clunk and rolled toward the audience.
There was a stunned silence in the room.
Bors came forward quickly and put a hand on Ayryn's shoulder.
'Are you all right?' he asked.
'Yes,' Ayryn replied. 'I… I was shocked, that's all.' There were tears in her eyes.
Montgomery came forward, holding out the crystal ball.
'We don't have to continue,' she said softly.
Ayryn took her scrying tool and shook her head. 'It would be a shame to end on such a sour note. Let me try again.'
Montgomery smiled and nodded. She returned to her seat.
Bors stepped back and examined the audience. Many of them looked as shocked as Ayryn, but most hid behind impassive masks. One guest, though, was smiling.
Bors felt his body stiffen. The guest was a woman, small of stature and slender, with long black hair. She was attractive and appeared quite young, but Bors knew her youth was a lie. The woman's name was Walinda. Once she'd been a priestess of the evil, now-deceased god Bane, j While the Sensates welcomed anyone who earnestly desired to be a member, Bors found himself thinking Montgomery must have temporarily taken leave of her senses when she invited Walinda into their midst, especially for so sensitive a performance. Walinda was, in Bors's opinion, a viper in woman's form. He could still feel the bump on the back of his head where she had clubbed him with his own frying pan. Had the paladin not sworn his undivided service as Ayryn's bodyguard for the evening, he would have challenged the woman's presence.
The room darkened once more, though only slightly. Two figures appeared in the center of the room, a young man with red hair and a slightly older raven-haired woman. The pair were seated at a table, drinking ale. They were the size of ordinary mortals, but the woman sported a pair of copper wings, and her face was covered with black feathers.
While the audience was busy trying to guess which gods they were seeing, Bors realized something had gone wrong with Ayryn's scrying. These people were not gods. The man Bors recognized as a priest named Joel, a Prime from Toril, the same world whose gods they were currently spying upon. Bors had never met the winged woman, but from a description his friend Holly Harrowslough had given him, he guessed she was another Prime by the name of Jas.
'Jas, you're being ridiculous about this,' Joel said. 'Give me one good reason why you won't come with me.'
'I don't have to give you any reasons,' Jas retorted. 'This is my business. Why don't you just let me be?' The whites of her eyes flared, and her dark brown irises began glowing green.
'You don't mean that,' Joel argued.
The vision quickly faded. Ayryn looked up, shaking her head. 'Misdirected,' she whispered in Montgomery's direction. 'I'm going to try one more time,' she said.
The room dimmed somewhat. A god Bors recognized appeared in the center of the room. The deity was seated on a bench, strumming a lyre. He appeared as a handsome young man about ten feet tall with shoulder- length hair of spun gold. He wore a tunic of fine brocade with fur trim. Behind him was a great library, with shelves and shelves of books and scrolls. The god was Milil, Lord of Song.
Milil looked up from his instrument. 'At last, an audience,' he said with a sly grin.
Bors's body tensed.
'Welcome, prying eyes,' Milil greeted them. 'I expect you to pay attention now. It's the least you can do after peering into my realm without invitation.'
Milil began to sing 'The Baker's Daughter,' a love song about a silver dragon's love for a mortal woman. His voice was deep and mellifluous. Several of the women in the audience sighed.
Next Milil sang 'Pipeweed Dreams,' a halfling drinking song. Many members of the audience joined in, while others just hummed along softly.
Milil sang 'The Seven Sisters,' a long ballad. Then he sang 'Three Thayvian Roses,' a bawdy festhall tune that brought a blush even to Montgomery's face. Finally he began, 'The Purple Dragons of Cormyr,' another long ballad. A few members of the audience began to nod off. Milil woke them with a little shout. The concert continued. Milil began singing several old Torillian folk songs one about the weather, another about crops, and even one about milking cows.
Bors stole a glance at Ayryn. Surely she cannot keep scrying for much longer, he thought. She must be exhausted.
Ayryn's blue skin was pale. There was a glazed look over her eyes. Although deities could not enter Sigil, somehow Milil had managed to get some charm through the crystal.
'And now,' Milil said, 'I have a truly special treat. 'The finale from the opera The Fall of Myth Drannor.'
Bors slipped up to Ayryn and yanked the crystal ball from her hand.
Mercifully, Milil's image disappeared.
The audience shook themselves from their stupor. Montgomery laughed.
'My, but wasn't that interesting,' the Sensate leader said.
I've heard that people commit murders at the operas and no one notices because everyone on stage is bellowing at the top of his lungs.
ACT ONE SCENE 1
Joel stood at the end of his last song and bowed to the audience. His long red hair fell forward and brushed
