Thaleste nodded nervously.
Cavatina smiled. 'It's been a long time since anything oozed through these halls,' she reassured the novice. 'About six hundred years.'
Another nervous nod.
Cavatina sighed to herself. Novices were not, as a rule, allowed to venture into truly dangerous areas, even with a seasoned Darksong Knight accompanying them. There was little there for Thaleste to fret about. The purpose of the patrol was simply to check the defensive glyphs and symbols that had recently been set there and report any that needed to be restored.
They continued on through the cavern, a novice in simple leather armor, and a warrior-priestess in a mithral chain mail shirt, her steel breastplate embossed with her goddess's symbols. Each female had a sword sheathed at her hip, next to a dagger. The Darksong Knight carried a hunting horn as well, slung from a strap that crossed one shoulder. Both priestesses were drow, their ebon skin blending with the darkness, their white hair and eyebrows standing out in stark contrast.
Cavatina, despite her vastly higher station, was still in her first century of life. Barely adult, by drow standards. The daughter of a Sword Dancer, she had her mother's lean, wiry build. She was tall, even for a drow female. Most of the other priestesses came only to her shoulder. Only Qilue herself was taller. During Cavatina's youth, there had been innumerable teasing about her being long and narrow as a sword blade but blunt as a maul when it came to speaking her mind.
Thaleste, on the other hand, was well into middle age, her body soft after decades of sloth. She had come to Eilistraee's faith only recently after a life of pampered luxury in one of the noble Houses of Menzoberranzan. Her motive for leaving that city had been far from holy. She'd angered her matron and barely survived the poison that had been slipped into her wine. She had been headed for Skullport for some poison of her own when she'd taken a wrong turn and blundered into the Promenade-a fork in life's path she later understood to be the unseen hand of Eilistraee.
Thaleste had gone from being a lazy, self-indulgent viper to a fervent worshiper who had embraced the goddess wholeheartedly, once she understood what the worship of Eilistraee truly meant. When that enlightenment had come, she'd wept openly, something a drow of the Underdark never did. She later confided in Cavatina that it had been the first time in two and a half centuries that she'd allowed herself to feel.
Cavatina had heard it many times before. She'd been born into Eilistraee's worship, seen many conversions. She envied each and every one. She herself would never know the moment of rapture redemption could bring. Though she had-and she smiled-experienced the intense exhilaration of skewering one of Lolth's demonic minions on her sword. More than one, in fact.
She sighed. Compared to a demon hunt, patrolling was dull work. She almost hoped that a cloaker would swoop down from the ceiling. She patted the bastard sword at her hip. Demonbane would make short work of it. The sword might not hum as prettily as the temple's singing swords, but it had seen Cavatina through more battles than she could count.
They continued through the cavern, checking to make sure that none of the magical symbols had been dispelled. Each symbol was as large as a breastplate, painted prominently on a wall, floor, or column where those passing through the cavern couldn't help but glance at it. The symbols had been painted using a paste made from a blend of liquid mercury and red phosphorus, sprinkled with powdered diamond and opal. Attuned to Eilistraee's faithful, the symbols could be safely stared at by her priestesses and lay worshipers, but anyone with evil intentions who so much as glanced at a symbol would trigger it, as would any cleric who served Eilistraee's enemies. Cavatina pointed out for Thaleste the difference between those symbols that caused wracking pain, and those that sapped strength.
'None that kill?' the novice asked. 'Why not slay our enemies outright?'
'Because for all drow, there is a chance of redemption,' Cavatina answered. Then she smiled grimly. 'Though for some, the chance is much slimmer than for others. That's what our swords are for. Once an intruder is debilitated, we give her one chance. She can live by the song-or die by the sword.'
Thaleste nodded, her eyes bright with tears. She'd made that very choice, just two years ago.
They moved on, softly singing the hymn that disabled the cavern's other magical protections. Tiny bells, hanging from silver threads, had been secreted here and there among the columns. Capable of detecting anything that moved in the cavern without singing the proper wards, the bells were ensorcelled to sound a clamorous alarm that could be heard dozens of paces away. A silence spell could muffle the sound, but the spell would have to be cast several times over-once per bell-and each bell's hiding place would have to be found first.
All of the bells Cavatina randomly selected to inspect were in place; none had been disturbed. Each rang with a clear ping when Cavatina flicked it with a fingernail.
Just like the Promenade itself, the caverns were protected not only by visible defenses but also by less tangible magic. Forbiddance spells had been put in place with sprinkles of holy water and wafts of incense, invisible to any who did not have the magic to detect them. They were a potent barrier, one that prevented enemies from teleporting or shifting there-even in astral or ethereal form. The forbiddance spells were permanent, and only the most powerful of spellcasters could remove them. The only way to bypass them was with one of Eilistraee's holy songs, and even that held no guarantee of safety. Those who used the song to slip past the magical barrier would, if of evil intent, arrive with grievous wounds-possibly even fatal ones.
The cavern narrowed, and the floor rose and fell. The priestesses clambered over half-formed stalagmites that looked like sagging lumps of dough. Several times, Thaleste's scabbard scraped against the soft limestone, tracing a faint line. The novice had a lot to learn about moving silently.
'The cloakers are going to have ample time to spring an ambush, with all that noise you're making,' Cavatina warned her.
Thaleste was breathing hard from her exertions. Her face darkened in a blush. 'My apologies, Mistress.'
'Dark Lady,' Cavatina corrected. 'There are no matron mothers here.'
'Dark Lady. My apologies.'
Cavatina accepted the apology with a nod.
Eventually, they reached the spot where the cavern ended. The ceiling was low enough that Cavatina could have touched it. A faint breeze issued from a crack above her head. A narrow chimney, barely as wide as her shoulders, twisted up to the surface. She watched as Thaleste peered up into the opening.
There was movement inside the chimney-a flutter of wings. Thaleste shrieked as something small and black burst out of it. Cavatina, who had started to draw her sword even as Thaleste flinched, slid it back into its sheath. She stared at the creature as it flew away, squeaking.
'A bat.' She sighed. 'The next time something comes hurtling at you, Thaleste, try drawing your sword or casting a spell.' She nodded at the chimney. 'Now check the glyph'
Thaleste, blushing, murmured a prayer, casting a detection spell. Just inside the chimney, a glyph sprang into luminescence, sparkling like the light scattered by a diamond. Frowning in concentration, Thaleste studied its outlines, her finger tracing through the air in front of it.
'A songblast glyph,' she announced at last, letting the glow fade. 'Untriggered. Nothing evil has passed this way.' Her shoulders relaxed a little as she said this.
'Unless it was ethereal,' Cavatina reminded her.
The shoulders tensed again.
'Fortunately, the ability to assume ethereal form is something that few creatures-and only the most powerful spellcasters-are capable of,' Cavatina continued. 'And those that are capable of ethereal travel have no need for entrances like this one. They can pass through solid stone.'
Thaleste swallowed nervously and glanced at the wall next to her out of the corner of her eye.
'The walls here are thick,' Cavatina assured her. 'Any spellcaster out on an ethereal jaunt would materialize inside solid stone long before reaching this spot.'
Thaleste nodded.
'We're done here,' Cavatina said. 'Let's go back.'
As they made their way back along the winding corridor they'd just traveled, Cavatina once again saw Thaleste startle. 'Have you spotted something, Novice?'
Thaleste pointed at the ceiling. 'A movement. Behind that broken window.' She gave her mentor an apologetic smile. 'Probably just another bat.'
