Qilue smiled. She gestured, and the whirling curtain of blades that had surrounded him was gone. 'I've come to ask a favor of you,' she said. 'One favor. You can say yes or no to it of your own accord, but if the answer is yes, I will place a geas on you that compels you to fulfill it. Do you understand?'
Q'arlynd nodded. He did indeed. He'd seen the effects of a geas firsthand long ago. One of Lolth's priestesses had cast it upon a House boy, compelling him to clean her boots each night by licking them with his tongue. Then she'd walked through the filth of the lizard pens. The boy had refused to clean the boots-and had quickly sickened and died, the magic of the geas hollowing him out from within.
His lips parted-he'd been about to flippantly ask what would happen if he said no to her request-then he realized there was really only one answer to her question. 'What task must I perform, Lady?'
'You were once a Nightshadow.'
'A petitioner, nothing more,' he said carefully. 'I never wore the mask.'
'You attended their meetings.' She switched to silent speech. You know their passwords.
Ah, so that was what she wanted. A spy. 'I know the ones they used in Ched Nasad, decades ago.'
Show me one.
He demonstrated one for her: fists drawing apart-as if stretching an assassin's cord-then suddenly flipping upside down, fingers curled, in the sign for a dead spider.
'Do you know what soultheft is?' Qilue asked.
Q'arlynd nodded. He had indeed heard of it. His brother had been stupid enough to boast that he'd one day kill a matron mother and steal her soul-preferably, their own mother. 'It's a powerful spell. Done using Vhaeraun's mask, I understand, once the victim is dead.'
Qilue moved closer. 'Do you think you could pass as a Nightshadow? Could you fool them into thinking you're one of their own?'
He smiled, his eyes still respectfully on the ground. 'I believe so, Lady.'
Qilue and lifted his chin with a finger. She stared into his eyes. 'Will you?'
Q'arlynd was forced to meet her eyes. He saw enormous strength of will there but also something more, something that tempered this strength. He knew, suddenly and with certainty, that she'd meant it when she said she'd let him choose whether to perform this 'favor' of hers. She wasn't commanding him. She was asking him. A female, asking a male.
He didn't even have to think about his reply. It was his chance to prove himself, to serve not just a powerful priestess but a powerful mage-one who was a Chosen of the goddess of magic. A rush of excitement filled him. If he'd been of a religious mind, he might have whispered a prayer of thanks. To… somebody.
'I am yours to command, Lady Qilue.'
'A favor,' she reminded him, her hand falling away from his face.
Q'arlynd smiled and cocked his head, a playful gesture. He was at ease, on familiar ground. 'Of course. A favor. What is it?'
Qilue's expression tightened. 'Five nights ago, a Nightshadow attacked our shrine in the Forest of Lethyr. He was attempting to steal the soul of one of our priestesses.'
'He did not succeed?'
'No.'
The answer had been abrupt. There was more to the story than this, but whatever it was, Qilue wasn't going to tell him.
'There have been other attacks on our priestesses,' she continued. 'Other soulthefts.'
Q'arlynd listened in silence, thinking of Rowaan. He felt a twinge of something. Guilt, he supposed.
'The males committing them are led by a Nightshadow named Malvag. They plan to use the soul-charged masks to open a gate between Vhaeraun's domain and Eilistraee's, so that Vhaeraun can slay our goddess.'
Q'arlynd whistled softly. 'Is that possible? The gate, I mean. I'm sure Eilistraee can take care of herself.'
'To open such a gate, the Nightshadows would need to work high magic-something that requires complete cooperation between spellcasters and complete faith in one another.' Qilue gave a tight smile. 'Can you honestly imagine Nightshadows trusting each other?'
Q'arlynd chuckled. 'Hardly likely.'
'Even if they fail to conjure a gate, the attempt will consume the souls of the priestesses who were killed. I don't want that to happen. I want the magic that's binding their souls to the masks dispelled, and the priestesses freed-and that means stopping Malvag.'
'You want him killed?'
'If he can be.'
The 'if' gave Q'arlynd pause, but only for a moment. He could guess what was coming. 'You want me to impersonate the Nightshadow who was killed in the Forest of Lethyr.'
Qilue nodded. 'We know his name: Szorak, of House Auzkovyn. He was one of three Nightshadows who joined Malvag's scheme. He's the only one from House Auzkovyn. The other two were from House Jaelre, and it's doubtful they knew him well. Neither they nor Malvag himself have seen Szorak without his mask. You're about Szorak's height and build, and your eyes are the same color. We won't need to use a glamor on you, and we know much about Szorak, since his sister was one who converted to our faith.'
As Qilue said this, a pained expression came to her eyes. There was a story there, but this was not the time to ask about it.
'So far so good,' Q'arlynd said, 'but if I show up without a soul-charged mask-'
'We will provide a mask,' Qilue said. 'Not Szorak's, but one that looks just like it. A square of cloth, created by polymorphing a gem-one that contains the body and soul of a priestess who has volunteered to risk herself in this venture.'
Q'arlynd stroked his chin nervously. He was being asked to risk just as much. 'Won't the Nightshadows be able to tell I'm not one of them?' he asked. 'I've sworn myself to Eilistraee-I've taken the sword-oath.'
'You spoke the words.' She touched fingers to his chest. 'But your heart…' The fingers lifted. 'One day, perhaps, a song will dance there.'
Q'arlynd gave a dutiful nod. He'd worry about that later. He had a job to do, and a potential matron to impress.
'Where is Malvag now?'
'We don't know. He's cloaked himself with powerful magic that prevents me from scrying him, but we do know where he and the other Nightshadows will meet on the night of the winter solstice: in a cavern lined with dark-stone crystals. The cavern has no entrance or exit; it's unconnected to anything else in the Underdark. The only way to reach it is to teleport.' She smiled. 'Fortunately that's something, Leliana tells me, that you claim to be quite adept at.'
Q'arlynd allowed himself a modest smile. Qilue had obviously believed Leliana, or she wouldn't have sought him out. 'Where is this cavern located?'
'Again, we don't know. We assume that it doesn't lie very deep in the Underdark, and that there's no faerzress near it, since teleportation to it is possible. All we have is a description of it, a brief description provided by the corpse.'
Q'arlynd's eyebrows raised. 'You expect me to teleport there on the strength of a description?'
'I realized that this would be impossible, without you having viewed the cavern. That is why I took the additional precaution of having the necromancer animate the body of the dead assassin. He then asked Szorak to 'describe' the cavern a second time-by drawing it.'
'Ah,' Q'arlynd said. 'I see. You want me to study the drawing then try to teleport there.'
Qilue gave him a measuring stare. 'Can you do it?'
Q'arlynd carefully kept his thoughts from showing on his face. If the sketch had been done by the equivalent of a zombie, with only the shakiest of muscle control and no spirit to guide his hand, it wouldn't be very accurate. The resulting 'drawing' would probably be no more than a few crude scratch marks.
He stroked his chin nervously. His stomach felt hollow at the very notion of what Qilue was asking-and he hadn't even jumped yet, but the thought of attempting an 'impossible' teleport was tempting simply for the sheer challenge of it. Qilue was hanging upon his answer, every muscle in her body taut. If he pulled this one off, it would really impress her. If he managed to stop Malvag and save the souls of a couple of priestesses in the bargain, the
