about the deaths of the two priestesses who had accompanied her to the Demonweb Pits, a guilt as painful as any penance Lolth had imposed.
Qilue suddenly wondered if she'd pushed Halisstra too far. She switched to a soothing tone. 'A death like Feliane's is disturbing,' she said. 'It would make anyone question her faith. It's easy enough to think that Eilistraee had abandoned you, but she didn't. It was her magic that revived you, after Danifae's mace shattered your face.'
Halisstra cocked her head. 'Eilistraee was… with me?' she whispered in a dry, strangled voice. 'Even when…'
Qilue nodded. 'She was.'
Halisstra's eyes hardened. 'If Eilistraee was with me, why did she let Lolth claim me?'
'Strong as Eilistraee is, Lolth is more powerful within her own domain, especially within her fortress,' Qilue spread her hands, 'but Eilistraee-and I-did not just abandon you. My scrying ended when Danifae struck you down. I assumed you were dead, until Eilistraee hinted otherwise. Whatever happened in the Demonweb Pits after that, Eilistraee will forgive you.'
Halisstra stared flatly back at Qilue. There was no conviction in her eyes.
'One last question,' Qilue said. 'It's been three years since Lolth broke her Silence. What have you been doing all this time?'
Halisstra shifted uncomfortably. 'I only escaped the Demonweb Pits a year ago. Since then, I've been… busy.'
'Doing Lolth's bidding,' Qilue suggested.
Halisstra's eyes blazed. 'I never attacked your priestesses.'
Qilue noted the choice of words. 'Your' priestesses. A bitter twist to the word.
'It was House Jaelre and House Auzkovyn that I hunted,' Halisstra continued. 'Vhaeraun's clerics. They're your enemies, as well.'
'Those who worship Vhaeraun, yes,' Qilue said softly, 'but some from those Houses have sought redemption.'
'Not all of them,' Cavatina interrupted. She nodded at Halisstra. 'The last one she killed died unrepentant. I gave him every opportunity to redeem himself before he died, but he refused.'
Qilue frowned, not understanding. 'You raised one of her victims from the dead?'
The Darksong Knight laughed. 'Quite the contrary. He was very much alive, inside her cocoon, when I found him.'
'You killed him?'
Cavatina stared back at Qilue, unrepentant. 'He deserved to die.'
Cavatina seemed disinclined to say more. Rather than pursue the discussion in front of Halisstra, who was listening a little too attentively, Qilue let the matter drop. There were more important matters at hand. The Crescent Blade. If it still existed, the quest that had begun three years ago might continue.
She glanced past Halisstra at Cavatina. The Darksong Knight stood ready, her eyes bright in the moonlight. Cavatina was skilled with a sword and experienced at fighting demons. Aside from Qilue herself, she was the most logical choice to recover the Crescent Blade. If it still existed.
'Priestess?' Qilue asked aloud. 'Are you up to the challenge?' At the same time, she used her magic to send Cavatina a silent message. It will be a trap. In all likelihood the temple no longer exists, and the blade is still lost.
Cavatina's posture was tense. Eager. But if it is true? If the sword can be recovered?
'Then you will bring it to me,' Qilue said, answering aloud. She kept an eye on Halisstra as she spoke, watching for a reaction. Halisstra gave no sign of disappointment. It didn't seem to matter to her that Qilue herself would not be lured into the Demonweb Pits.
Cavatina's lips parted then closed. Qilue could sense that she had been about to protest, to insist that it should be a Darksong Knight who made the attempt on Lolth, but instead she inclined her head.
'By the song and the sword, we will succeed,' she said.
'The drow will be free of the Spider Queen at last.'
'By the song and the sword,' Qilue murmured. Then she took a deep breath. Halisstra, she thought, was a coin balanced on its edge. Which way would she fall-toward betrayal or aid? The prophecy of three years ago had said it could go either way.
No. The prophecy had said it would go both ways. In the goddess's own words, House Melarn would both aid-and betray. A single coin could only fall on one side or the other.
Was there a second 'coin' out there somewhere, waiting to declare itself?
If so, where?
Q'arlynd approached the tree that housed the priestesses. It was still covered in leaves, despite the recent snowfall. Sustained by ancient magic, its branches sparkled against the night sky with a shimmer of green that reminded Q'arlynd of the faerie fire that had decorated the buildings and roads back home.
The trunk was massive, thick as any of the streets of Ched Nasad had been. Its bark bulged in several places, enormous knots of wood that were called burls. Hollowed into each of these was a room, its entrance a round wooden door. Leading up to the doors were ladders made of individual sticks that floated in mid air. These sticks appeared benign, but glyphs carved into them would activate if anyone of evil intent touched them, instantly making them as sharp as steel. Enemies of Eilistraee who were foolish enough to use a magical ladder would lose their fingers at the very least.
Q'arlynd, however, had an easier means of access at his disposal, his House insignia. With a thought, he activated it and rose into the air to the room that was Rowaan's.
Yellow light shone through the cracks between door and frame. Rowaan might be a dark elf, but she seemed to have forsaken the use of her darkvision. Q'arlynd, still levitating, dispelled the glyph on the door, a simple warding that gave a mental suggestion that dissuaded males from touching the door or its handle. Then he lifted his hand to knock.
He paused, however, without knocking. He'd gone to seduce Rowaan into accompanying him to the Promenade and introducing him to Qilue. He had the perfect story, carefully rehearsed to earn Rowaan's sympathy, the tale of how Halisstra had saved his life after his riding accident. He'd tell her that that had stirred feelings in him he'd never known he possessed, that he'd discovered that he cared for Halisstra. How he even-what was the word for it? — yes, that was it, how he loved his sister. He'd follow that up with a plea that if he could just talk to Qilue- briefly, and without interrupting the high priestess's doubtlessly important duties-that maybe he could learn more about the one person who truly mattered to him in the world. Floating on Rowaan's threshold, however, it all seemed too easy-about as exciting as jumping from a table to the floor. He wanted more of a challenge than that.
Above him, he could see Leliana's doorway.
He smiled. Now that would be a leap. And being introduced to Qilue by a more powerful priestess certainly wouldn't hurt.
He levitated to her door and dispelled the warding on it as well. Then he knocked, a light, seemingly hesitant tap. As he waited for the door to open, he ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it.
The door opened, revealing a small room that was comfortably dark. Q'arlynd bowed his head. 'May I come in?'
Leliana glanced between the wizard and the door. 'How did-?'
Q'arlynd waggled his fingers. 'Magic.'
Leliana's eyes blazed. 'You're not permitted here. Only priestesses-'
'I know, but I need to speak to you.' He lowered his voice, as if afraid someone might be listening. 'It's about the Nightshadows. I have information I think you should hear.'
Leliana glanced away, muttering something under her breath. 'All right,' she said. 'Come in.'
Q'arlynd pulled himself inside and allowed his levitation to end. The room was furnished with two cushioned stools and an intricately carved table whose legs were joined to the floor. It must have been carved when the burl was hollowed out. Pegs on the wall held Leliana's armor, weapons, and cloak. Wide notches, carved into the walls,
