She blew-and a third wave of sound shuddered through the chwidenchas, pulverizing them. They collapsed, twitched once or twice, and died.
Halisstra, meanwhile, was still battling the chwidencha that had attacked her. She knocked it away with a sweep of one powerfully muscled arm, but as soon as it stopped rolling it sprang at her again. It landed on her back, knocking her to the ground. Its legs sawed against her body, scrabbling for a hold.
Halisstra was not so easily beaten. She rose, wrenching the creature over her head to the front of her body-a move that tore deep gouges in her shoulders. She sank her fangs into one of the chwidencha's legs. The chwidencha tried to push itself free, but Halisstra's own spider legs held it fast, crushing it against her chest. She bit it again and again, working her way in toward its center, where the legs joined-and at last a deep shudder ran through the chwidencha and its legs fell limp.
Cavatina drifted to the ground beside Halisstra. 'Bravely done.'
Halisstra, eyes gleaming, hurled the lifeless chwidencha aside.
Cavatina moved closer, her hand raised. 'Those wounds. Shall I try to heal-'
'No.' Halisstra's voice was harsh as she flinched away. 'Lolth's pact will heal me.'
Cavatina lowered her hand. She walked to the chwidencha that was bound by the web and levered it onto its back with her sword, exposing the throbbing ball of flesh that was the thing's head. She skewered it with the point of her sword. The weapon sang in a joyful tone as the chwidencha died.
'Hard to believe these were once drow,' Cavatina said as she pulled her sword free.
Halisstra's head came up.
'Created by Lolth, just as you were.' Cavatina moved to the second chwidencha, levered it over, and thrust again, ensuring that it was dead. 'Each leg was a person who angered Lolth in some way. They were transformed by fell magic and bound together to create a creature that knows only pain and hatred.' She moved to the third, flipped it, and drove her sword home. 'We do them a favor by killing them. Among the legs might be some whose 'crime' against the Spider Queen was to contemplate the worship of some other deity, perhaps even Eilistraee. Some of the souls we free may go on to dance with the goddess in her domain.' She turned to face Halisstra. 'Which proves that there's always hope, no matter how grim things seem.'
Halisstra either missed the point or deliberately ignored it. 'You've hunted chwidencha before.'
Cavatina nodded. 'Among other things.' She nodded at Halisstra's wounds. Already they were closing over. 'Are you able to continue?'
'Yes.'
They continued toward the spires of rock and soon were among them. Cavatina could see that they were, indeed, petrified legs, most of them snapped clean and flat at the second joint, their clawed tips fused with the stone of the ground below. Each was as big around as a house. She tried to imagine the spiders whose legs they once had been, and shuddered. Such creatures could only have been spawned in the Abyss.
Most of the spires of rock were thick with spiderwebs that fluttered like torn flags from the bristles protruding from their sides. One spire, however, was clear of webs. Nearly two hundred paces tall, it was twisted in a way that reminded Cavatina of the tree that had served as the portal. Halisstra stopped in front of it and patted the black stone.
'This one,' she said, craning her neck up. 'The temple's on top.'
'Show me.'
Halisstra climbed, her bare hands and feet sticking to the rock like those of a spider. Cavatina sprang into the air, levitating beside her. As she neared the top, she saw a structure perched on top of the flat expanse of stone. It was a simple box of a building little bigger than a shed: four square walls, a roof, and a single arched doorway in which fluttered a tattered blanket that served as an improvised door. The walls were deeply pitted, as if from acid, but one section of stone above the arch was untouched. On it was a crude carving of a sword atop a circle that represented the full moon-Eilistraee's symbol. Seeing it, Cavatina felt a comforting warmth. That much of Halisstra's story, at least, had been true. Together with Feliane and Uluyara she had raised a temple to Eilistraee, shaping it by magic out of stone-in the heart of the Demonweb Pits.
Cavatina landed in front of the building and sang a song of praise. As she finished the divination spell, the symbol on the building began to glow. The temple was still consecrated-though dark streaks of evil were worming their way into its stone walls.
Halisstra had not yet clambered onto the top of the spire. She hung at its edge, wincing and turning her head away from the building, as if it pained her to look at it.
Cavatina gestured at the temple. 'The Crescent Blade is inside?'
Halisstra nodded. Her matted hair, stuck to her shoulders, did not move. 'On the floor.'
Cavatina moved to the entrance and used her sword to move the fluttering blanket aside. She could see something that glinted inside the temple against the back wall-a sword with a curved blade. The blanket fell, and the wind caught it, blowing it to the back of the room. It landed on the curved sword, covering it.
Cavatina glanced up, making sure nothing was lurking on the inside ceiling, then back at where Halisstra clung to the top of the spire, only her head and shoulders visible above the edge. The fangs that protruded from Halisstra's cheeks were twitching. Her eyes were wide with anticipation and her drow mouth hung open slightly, panting. Her whispered hiss came to Cavatina on the wind: 'Yes.'
One eye still on Halisstra, Cavatina eased into the room. The temple was small, barely four paces across. Its interior had an odd feeling about it, sacred and calm, yet balanced on the edge of turmoil. Cavatina felt as though she were walking across a pane of clearstone waiting for it to crack.
She flicked away the blanket with the tip of her sword and stared down at the weapon that lay on the floor. Words had been inlaid in silver along its curved blade. They were in the language of the drow and thus easily read. A portion of one word was missing, at a spot where the upper and lower halves of the blade had been fused back together. The silver in that spot had melted away. The script read:
Be your heart filled with light and your cause be true, I shall n- fail you.
A divination spell showed that the sword still held its magic. Cavatina stared down at it in awe.
'The Crescent Blade,' she whispered.
Forged centuries ago from 'moon metal,' it had a blade so keen it could cut through stone or even metal. It was a weapon said to be capable of severing the neck of any creature-even a god.
Cavatina sheathed her singing sword and reached down for the Crescent Blade. As her hand closed around the leather-wrapped hilt, she felt a rush of power surge up her arm. Holding the weapon in both hands, she spun like a sword dancer, savoring the perfect balance of the blade. With it, she would be the penultimate hunter. Her foes would fall like wheat before a scythe. 'Eilistraee!' she cried. Still spinning, she threw back her head and laughed.
A loud hissing sound brought her to her senses. Halting abruptly, she peered outside the temple and saw splatters of rain hitting the stone. Where they landed, the stone began to bubble. Foul-smelling steam rose and pock marks formed.
Acidic rain.
Halisstra stared up at the sky, rain streaming down her face and soaking her matted hair. If the acid stung her bare skin, she showed no sign. 'A storm is coming,' she said. She glanced down. 'We need shelter.'
Cavatina gestured at the temple. 'Eilistraee will shield us.'
Halisstra shook her head. 'Not me.' She glanced down again then sprang away from the edge of the cliff, out into space.
Cavatina rushed to the exit, but the acidic rain blowing in through the open doorway drove her back. She sang a prayer of protection and forced her way against the wind to the edge of the spire of rock. She stared down but saw no sign of her guide.
'Halisstra!' she called, but her voice was snatched away by the rising wind.
Acidic rain bounced away from her skin, hair and clothes without touching them, repelled by her spell. Its magic would protect her-but only for a time. She needed to get back under shelter herself, but as she turned back toward the temple, she heard a sharp crack. A large split appeared in its front wall, beside the arch. Rain streamed off the roof in rivulets, eroding the crack further. Even as Cavatina watched, it widened. Then, with a terrific groaning sound, the structure gave way. The roof fell in, and the walls crumbled. Soon all that remained was a
