A hand, a steadying hand, closed gently on her bicep, stopped her descent, and pulled her around. She opened her eyes and found herself staring into the intense red eyes of Uluyara. The drow High Priestess of Eilistraee looked comfortable in her mail and forest green tunic. A sword hung from her hip, a war horn from her neck. A host of magical tokens-feathers, buttons, and pins-hung from her tabard. Her full mouth wore a look of genuine concern for Halisstra, but behind the concern, deep in her eyes, lurked something else-something Halisstra could not quite identify.
'Are you all right?' Uluyara asked. She gave Halisstra a gentle shake. 'Halisstra, are you all right?'
Beside them, the parade of souls continued to stream past, so quickly they looked blurry.
Black lightning split the aether neatly in two. Maelstroms churned. The voice whispered.
Uluyara's white hair waved in the Astral wind. Her armor, weapons, and clothing appeared dull compared to the color of the souls. They all looked dull compared to Lolth's dead.
Halisstra blinked, managed a nod, and said, 'Yes. I'm just. . troubled, from seeing Ryld.'
Uluyara's eyes showed understanding, though her hard expression held little sympathy.
Halisstra knew that the death and afterlife of Ryld Argith little concerned Uluyara. The High
Priestess was focused on their goal of finding and killing Lolth; nothing else mattered to her.
Yor'thae, whispered the Astral.
Hearing the word again, Halisstra felt her cheeks burn. She looked for a reaction from
Uluyara, but the High Priestess showed no sign of having heard anything.
'Did you not hear that?' Halisstra asked, fearful of the answer.
Uluyara stiffened, cocked her head, and looked around warily. Her eyes came back to
Halisstra.
'Hear what?' she asked. 'The souls? The lightning? There is nothing else.'
Before Halisstra could answer, Feliane floated beside Uluyara and put a gentle hand on
Halisstra's mailed shoulder. The slight elf priestess wore a suit of fine mail and a small round helmet out of which her long brown hair streamed. A thinblade hung from her narrow hips. She looked like an armed child sent off to do battle. Was Eilistraee so desperate?
'It is the murmur of the souls as they journey to their fate,' Feliane said. She looked upon the dead and her round eyes were sorrowful. 'Nothing more.'
Uluyara nodded agreement. The souls did mutter as they streamed past, a low, barely audible hum, but Halisstra knew the whisper of Yor'thae was something else, something audible only to her.
'The damned of Lolth do not go quietly to their fate,' Uluyara said, and unlike Feliane,
Halisstra saw no sorrow in the High Priestess's red eyes. In her own way, Uluyara was as merciless a priestess as any servant of Lolth. 'Perhaps they sense at the last the mistake they have made.'
Halisstra jerked her arm free of Uluyara and glared into the priestess's eyes.
'I loved one of those damned,' she said and could not keep the bitterness out of her voice.
Uluyara stiffened; her eyes flashed, but she said only, 'I had forgotten. Forgive my insensitivity, sister.'
Halisstra heard no sincerity in Uluyara's voice.
Feliane, her voice gentle, said, 'Peace, sisters. We're all tired. You especially, Halisstra, since you carry so heavy a burden. Uluyara and I will help you bear it, but you must let us. Eilistraee too will help you bear it, but you must also let her.' She paused before adding, 'Do you believe that?'
Her grip on Halisstra's shoulder tightened.
Halisstra looked from Uluyara and Feliane and was suddenly aware of the looks-behind-the-
looks on the faces of the Eilistraeeans. She floated between them, speared by their gazes, their expectant expressions. She realized then what she had seen moments before in Uluyara's eyes:
doubt.
They doubted her or were beginning to doubt her.
She felt a flash of anger, but it dissipated almost immediately; she also saw genuine concern in their eyes. They loved her and accepted her as a sister despite their doubt. Halisstra's mind turned to Quenthel and Danifae, her former «sisters» in faith, both so different from Uluyara and
Feliane. Quenthel would not have abided doubt; and Danifae. .
Danifae Yauntyrr stood on the same precipice on which Halisstra recently had stood, teetering between Lolth and Eilistraee, torn between the habits of an old life and the hope of a new one,
afraid to take the next step. Halisstra believed that Danifae too could come over to the Dancing
Goddess, if only she would.
In a visceral way, Halisstra needed Danifae to submit to the faith of Eilistraee. Through the
Binding, she had come to know Danifae well. They were very much alike, Halisstra and her former battle- captive. She knew that Danifae too could be redeemed, that she could be turned from Lolth, and she knew too that Danifae's redemption would validate Halisstra's own.
'Halisstra?' Feliane said.
Halisstra looked from one to the other of her sisters and forgave them for their doubt. How could she be angry at them for doubting her when she was beginning to doubt herself?
'Halisstra?' asked Feliane again, her hazel eyes soft but her grip hard. 'Do you believe what I
have just said? That we and the Dancing Goddess will help you bear your burden?'
Halisstra looked into Feliane's eyes and managed a nod. 'I believe it,' she said, but was not sure that their help would be enough.
Uluyara blew out a breath and said, 'Perhaps we should make an offering to the Lady before venturing farther?'
'A good idea,' Feliane said, still eyeing Halisstra.
Uluyara took from around her neck a pendant of silver, upon which was engraved a sword encircled by a swirling ribbon-Eilistraee's holy symbol. She cradled it in her palms.
Yor'thae, hissed the aether, and Halisstra detected a note of anger in the wind's voice.
'This is an ill place for a dance,' Feliane said, looking around at the souls and gray swirls.
'True,' answered Uluyara, 'but let us at least take a moment to pray.'
All agreed, and together the three worshipers of the Dancing Goddess, two drow elves and a moon elf, gathered into a circle and asked Eilistraee for strength and wisdom while the souls of
Lolth's damned streamed by, while the storms of Lolth's power raged around them. Halisstra felt like a hypocrite throughout.
Afterward, with doubt still stabbing at her, she asked her sisters, 'Are we certain that we can we do this?' She had asked them the question before, but she needed to hear the answer again.
She put her hand to the hilt of the Crescent Blade, scabbarded at her waist. It felt warm against her flesh. 'This is only a blade. And we are only three.'
Uluyara and Feliane shared a look of concern before Feliane said, 'That is the Crescent
Blade, Halisstra, consecrated by Eilistraee. It will serve. And you must not think that our strength is measured in numbers. Our strength is measured in faith.'
Halisstra was not sure that her own faith would provide much strength. Still, she looked into her sisters' eyes and saw firm resolve there. She took what strength she could from them.
Uluyara nodded at the line of shades moving past and said, 'Let us continue. Our path remains clear. The gates to Lolth's domain are now open. The souls will lead us to her.'
Halisstra tried to imagine what it would be like to stand before Lolth, to do battle with the goddess she had worshiped for almost her entire life. She could not conceptualize it. It seemed absurd. And yet…
Perhaps it was possible.
'She is awake but I am not certain that she is fully returned,' Halisstra said. 'She is calling across the cosmos for her Yor'thae, her Chosen.'
Feliane and Uluyara stared at her for a long moment.
'Yor'thae,' Uluyara said, tasting the word on her tongue and crinkling her forehead at its flavor. 'How do you know this?'
'I heard the term once, long ago,' Halisstra lied.
Uluyara bored into her. 'That's not what I mean, Halisstra Melarn. I mean: How do you know that she is calling for her Chosen now?'
