Sehanine's power was at its height.
'You sensed the magic in the tapestry was wrong. You knew it-certainly you knew it, for I swear that the very moonlight carries night-born secrets to you-yet you let your lord go into battle wearing a token that condemned him to failure. If I am traitor, then so also are you!'
Sehanine shook her head. 'I felt your animosity, that much is true, but I thought it was for me alone. Only when Gruumsh's attack unleashed your curse did I understand. Before the moon rose, when I was too weak to act, the orc shattered my lord's sword and gravely wounded him.'
'And you, meddling bitch that you are, simply had to pick up the pieces,' Araushnee said angrily. 'You took the sheath from him, didn't you?'
'If I had not, would he even now be safe in Arvandor?'
Araushnee hissed with rage and frustration. The goddess of moonlight was also the goddess of mysteries. It seemed she was as good at unraveling them as she was at creating them. And Sehanine was powerful-far more powerful than Araushnee. Or, more precisely, she would be, when the moon was high. Even now, with sunset still staining the skies over Arvandor, Sehanine's glassy form was swiftly taking on substance and power. Araushnee had to act now or all would be lost.
Flinging out both hands, the dark goddess let the full force of her wrath and jealousy fuel the magic that poured from her fingertips. Malevolent power spun at the moon goddess in silky threads. Instantly Sehanine was enmeshed in a web far stronger than that which had stopped the charge of mighty Gruumsh One-Eye.
But this was not enough for Araushnee. Her rage stirred a miniature tempest, a wind that howled and raced along the walls of the hall until it formed a whirling cloud. The whirlwind caught the struggling moon goddess and tossed her into the very heart of the tiny maelstrom.
This was precisely what Araushnee needed. Again she lifted her hands, and again threads of magic darted toward her rival. The wind seized them, spun them, wrapped them tightly around Sehanine until the goddess was as tightly and thoroughly cocooned as an unawakened butterfly.
When she was satisfied, Araushnee dismissed the tempest. A smile curved her lips as she regarded the captive goddess. Sehanine was clearly visible through the layers of gossamer magic, but she could not move or speak. As a precaution, Araushnee sent a silent, gloating insult to the goddess's mind. It was like speaking to stone-not even the mind-to-mind community shared by members of the elven pantheon could penetrate that web of magic. Sehanine's capture was complete. It was also, unfortunately, temporary. Moonrise would grant Sehanine power far beyond anything Araushnee could command.
The dark goddess sent forth another silent summons-one that spoke to Vhaeraun's mind alone and that told him, in terms that left no room for argument, he was to cease whatever he was doing and hasten home.
In remarkably short order (for Araushnee had intimated what might occur if he should dally), the young god burst into the hall. His eyes went wide as he regarded the moon goddess-and contemplated the price they might pay for an attack upon one of the most powerful elven deities.
'Mother, what have you done?' he said in great consternation.
'It could not be helped. She knows-or at least suspects-that the sheath I wove for Corellon stole his sword's magic. But being an honorable sister,' Araushnee sneered, 'she came to confront me with her suspicions before going to the Seldarine Council. The only way she'll get there now is to drop to the ground and slither like a snake. I would almost welcome the council's intrusion into my affairs for the pleasure of witnessing such a thing!'
Vhaeraun peered closely at the magical web that bound Sehanine. 'Will it hold, at least until the battle is done?'
'No,' Araushnee admitted. 'It would not hold at all if she had not been such a fool as to come to me-me, her bitterest rival-when her power was next to nothing. But the moon will soon rise. You must take her to a place where there is no moonlight and see that she stays there until the battle is past.'
'And then what?' he countered in a tone that approximated his mother's sneer. 'How can you hope to rule, with a goddess of Sehanine's power to oppose you? You should kill her now, when she is still helpless.'
Araushnee's hand flashed forward and dealt a ringing slap to her son's face. 'Do not presume to question me,' she said in a voice that bubbled with rage. 'If you are so ignorant that you believe one god can easily kill another, perhaps I was wrong to make you my confidante and partner!'
'But what of Herne?' pressed Vhaeraun, eager to salvage something of his dignity even it that only meant winning some small point of argument. 'You told me that Malar killed him. And for that matter, why would you set Gruumsh and Malar against Corellon, if neither had hope of success?'
'Don't be more of a fool than you must,' snapped the goddess. 'It is one thing to destroy a god from another place and another pantheon-even among the gods, there are hunters and hunted, predators and prey. But to kill a member of one's own pantheon is another matter. If it were so easy, would I not already rule Arvandor?'
The young god regarded his mother for several moments, his eyes thoughtful and his fingertips gingerly stroking his stinging cheek. 'If it is as you say,' he said slowly, 'then perhaps you should leave the Seldarine.'
'Have you not heard a word I have said this day? I wish to rule the Seldarine!'
'Then do so by conquest, rather than intrigue,' Vhaeraun suggested. 'You have been amassing an army to do your will. Leave the Seldarine, and lead that army yourself! Imagine Araushnee at the head of a mighty force, the leader of the anti-Seldarine!' he concluded, his voice ringing with the drama of it and the pride of one who admires his own visions.
Araushnee stared at him for a moment, then she shook her head in despair. 'How did I give birth to two such idiots? Think, boy! List in your mind the great and glorious generals I have enlisted!'
She was silent for a moment, letting the names of the Seldarine's enemies hang silent in the air between them. There was Maglubiyet, leader of the goblinkin's gods. Hruggek, who led bugbears into the hunt and into battle. Kurtulmak, the head of the kobold pantheon-it still amazed Araushnee that kobolds had a pantheon. By any measure of elvenkind, these gods were unimpressive foes. Some of the other gods who'd enlisted in the coming battle were considerably more powerful than these, and the list went on at length-but the army that resulted was far less than the sum of its parts. Many of them were enemies, or, at best, held each other in contempt. It was a volatile alliance, and far too much of the gods' ire and energy would be spent on each other. If Vhaeraun was too stupid to see that, Araushnee would do well to rid herself of him at once.
To her relief, a look of uncertainty crept across the young god's face as he contemplated their collective allies. 'This army-it can win?'
'Of course not,' the goddess stated baldly. 'But these gods are strong enough and numerous enough to do considerable damage. And most important, it is an army that none in Arvandor will see as anything other than a coalition of elven enemies. The Seldarine will prevail, but the battle will be long and there will be losses on both sides. We will see to it, you and I, that one of those is Corellon Larethian.'
'Our grief, of course, will be heartbreaking,' added Vhaeraun with a sly grin.
'Naturally. And all the gods of the Seldarine, stunned by the loss of their beloved Corellon, will rally behind his consort and her heroic son. Once we have this ultimate power, doing away with Sehanine will be a small matter.' She shot a sidelong, measuring look at the young god. 'You are still willing to do these things?'
When Vhaeraun regarded her blankly, she pointed out, 'After all, he is your father.'
'And he is your lord husband. If there is a difference, please explain it to me. Otherwise, we will say that I am your son and leave the matter as settled,' Vhaeraun said. His words were blunt and the implications harsh; instinctively he braced himself for another display of his mother's ready temper.
To his surprise, she laughed delightedly. 'You are my son indeed. Your role in this will be carried out well, of that I have little doubt. Nor do I doubt your desire to rule with me when this is done. Go now-be rid of Sehanine and then return as quickly as you can. Time is short. I need you to take this sheath to the Moor, so that Eilistraee can 'find' it this night. The battle begins with the coming of new light.'
She held her smile as Vhaeraun kissed her cheek, kept it firmly in place as he cast the minor magic that reduced the trapped moon goddess to manageable size and then bore her off through a newly conjured portal, a magical gate that glistened like black opal.
Perhaps, Araushnee mused, the portal led to some mortal world where the sun-bright days lasted nearly as long as a day on Olympus, perhaps to some deeply buried crypt where Sehanine might lie, helpless and deprived of moonlight until long after the battle for Arvandor was won. Araushnee did not know, but she trusted in Vhaeraun to come up with a suitable exile for her rival. After all, he was her son.
And because Vhaeraun was so truly her own, Araushnee's smile faded to a frown of worry the moment he
