Taslin ignored the spittle running down her face. 'Come to think of it, they probably can't see color.'
'Ithilnin! Ithilnin karanok! Ithilnin!' The chant only redoubled in volume.
'That's it, then,' Twilight said. 'Can't go wrong with pretty lasses on the altar.'
'You are so young.' Taslin shook her head. 'Do you take nothing seriously?'
'Not if I can help it.' The tremor in her voice didn't display calm, though. 'In the face of inescapable death, if you haven't got your sense of humor, what have you got?'
Taslin closed her eyes in silent acquiescence, and she forced an ironic smile, even though she felt like crying. She'd just learned something about her companion-not from her words, but form how she had spoken.
Fear. Twilight was afraid.
During the silence that followed, Twilight took the opportunity to explore their surroundings, moving only her eyes.
The grimlocks carried them through a plain, if large, cavern. With closer scrutiny, however, Twilight realized it was some sort of settlement. The city-if such it could be called-was completely unlit. If not for her darksight, she would have observed none of it.
Three dozen or so houses carved out of the rock adorned the sides of the cavern, stacked two, three, even four high. A series of ladders led to each house, and grimlocks stood-dead silent-outside each door, their arms held aloft in recognition. Male and female they stood, Twilight guessed, along with children. She might have found it charming if the situation hadn't been so dire, and if they weren't so eyeless. The unnerving, empty gazes felt like death itself.
In front of the window or door of each house hung several rods on a rope that Twilight took for a crude wind chime, though there was no wind underground. She was proven wrong, however, when one of the creatures reached up and tapped the contraption. Its three reeds spun, producing a series of whistles that rippled through the air, perking up ears and turning heads.
A means of producing sound-thus making them able to find their way-without opening their mouths, Twilight thought. How practical.
The grimlock leading the ritual procession held his arms aloft and stopped. Silence fell and all eyes in the city-all four of them-went to his crude robes, horned headpiece, and gnarled staff. Twilight noted that the leader wore both of the elves' swords, though none of their other equipment had been taken.
She also couldn't help but note that he wore a particularly shiny ring on his finger, a plain gold band that looked rather familiar. Twilight's eyes narrowed. A coincidence?
Twilight felt the reassuring pressure of her hidden amulet against her collarbone. Its power would prevent anyone from noticing it who wasn't specifically looking. Ordinarily, Twilight would be comforted, but part of her wanted the amulet off so any searchers would see her peril and come to her aid. And of course, her hands were tied.
Ironic, she thought. How like her lord and master to trick her to her death.
Indicating the prisoners, the grimlock priest uttered a series of grunts and hoots, casting his staff back and forth as though fighting invisible attackers. When he was done, the grimlocks of the city hooted and growled in agreement.
'What did he say?' Twilight asked quietly.
'Calling upon their god, Ithilnin,' whispered Taslin, 'and a blessing over those the Great Slitherer shall consume.'
'Radiant,' said Twilight. 'That sounds like something I'd look forward to.'
The chorus of applause and hooting ended, and the column moved forward again.
Twilight saw Taslin's lips moving gently. She spoke silently. Not magic-the shadowdancer would have sensed that. Rather…
'Aillesel seldarie,' Taslin prayed quietly. 'May the Seldarine preserve us.'
'You say that as if they would,' said Twilight. Taslin's eyes flew open and a pained look came over her face, colorless in darksight. 'The gods hear what they choose to hear, and they don't need us telling them what prayers to answer.'
They reached an even greater cavern than the one that held the city. The rock walls were plain, and other than the massive size, the space was unremarkable. A perfectly rounded tunnel, much like the ones Twilight had seen earlier, opened from the floor in the center of the chamber. The sacrificial chasm, she imagined, out of which their god would emerge.
'But-'
'If your lord wanted to save us, he'd have done so,' said Twilight. 'Or maybe he yet will. Either way, he doesn't need you reminding him that we're about to die. Or-more accurately-be eaten by this Ithlin-ithnin thing.'
One of the grimlocks snarled at her, recognizing the word as its god, and Twilight flinched despite herself. 'Ith-il-nin,' she spat. 'My mistake.'
Silence reigned.
'You made it clear you will not talk about your past,' Taslin whispered.
'Good,' Twilight said in the Common tongue.
The blind creatures lifted both their pallets and set them up high-likely on an altar, Taslin thought. The priest's voice lessened, as though backing away. She imagined that she and Twilight were alone. Abruptly, some sort of light appeared in the darkness-bonfires lit by the grimlocks. Their heat fell upon Taslin's face, and she could see flickers and dancing shapes. The moon elf was lying straight and dead as a rod, looking around.
'If you're wanting a heart to heart now that we're about to die,' she said, looking at Taslin sidelong, 'can't say I'm interested.'
'I have only one question I wish to ask,' said Taslin.
Her companion sighed. 'I suppose it hardly matters now, since we're about to be eaten and all. Query, Taslin, and I'll answer.'
'You serve Erevan Ilesere-the trickster god-do you not?'
Twilight looked at her curiously for a heartbeat, then looked away. That told Taslin all she needed to know. 'I see,' the priestess said softly.
The moon elf smiled with bemusement. 'You got that idea from the mark?' she asked in Common, gesturing with her head toward her hips. 'Or from the sword hilt? Or perhaps my charming personality?'
The world shuddered and the chanting increased in speed and intensity. The fires were blazing and the chamber was lit up as bright as day. The grimlocks' gray flesh glistened with sweat, drool, and other juices Taslin didn't care to identify.
'All of them,' Taslin replied in kind. 'My real question, though, is that if you are a fellow servant of the Seldarine, why do you not pray for aid, as I do? Why not supplicate your lord?'
'Because I would rather die,' she said, 'than talk to that scheming, lecherous, backstabbing old bastard ever again. He used me, and as you can see, he hates me.'
Taslin realized that was a lie-or perhaps not the whole truth. She wasn't about to be deceived. 'Why not beseech Lord Corellon, then? Surely the elf gods-'
'I want nothing to do with the elf gods,' Twilight said. 'I turned my back on the People long ago, for reasons that are my own, and I've no desire to turn again.'
Why was Twilight lying to her?
The grimlocks' chanting rose in volume.
'No offense meant, of course.'
Taslin nodded. The two fell into silence.
Perhaps her bravado was a lie, and she truly was a child.
