Lisa Smedman - Sacrifice of the Widow

The priestess glanced around. "What happened here?"

Q'arlynd shrugged. "I know as little as you do. I only just teleported here."

Coal-red eyes bored into his. "Only a priestess can do that."

Q'arlynd waved a hand, trying to appear nonchalant. "I know, I know-the wards and all that. Qilue herself taught me the song that would bypass them."

She lifted her sword slightly, a subtle threat. "Sing it now."

Q'arlynd did.

The Crescent Blade lowered. "It seems you are what you say. My apologies. I didn't ask your name. What is it?"

He bowed a second time. "Q'arlynd Melarn."

The priestess's eyes widened. No doubt she too had known his sister.

"I have to go," Q'arlynd said in an apologetic voice. "Urgent tidings to report. I must find Qilue." He lifted the mask. "I have to return this to her."

"Wait." Cavatina's voice cracked like a whip. Her hand gripped his shoulder tightly, and it fairly stank of spider. She stared off into the distance for a moment, then back at him, a hint of surprise in her expression. "It seems Qilue is expecting you. She's on her way here now."

Her brief touch had left strands of web on his piwafwi. Q'arlynd brushed them from his shoulder.

Cavatina smiled, and wiped away some of the web that clung to her own narrow face. She still kept an eye on him, but she'd relaxed slightly after talking to Qilue. "The offal of the Demonweb Pits," she said, pride in her voice. She grinned. "But I'd gladly wade through the stuff a second time, if the reward were the same."

She expected him to ask the question. He obliged her. "What reward?"

Her eyes glittered as she hefted the Crescent Blade. "I killed a deity today."

She waited, obviously expecting awe. She was proud. As vain as any matron mother. Q'arlynd couldn't resist.

"So did I," he said with a smile.

Cavatina listened as Halisstra's brother made his report. It was an incredible tale, if it could be believed. Three drow males, working high magic? Opening a gate that bridged the realms of Vhaeraun and Eilistraee?

She waited impatiently, anxious to make her own report. The wizard's tale was incredible and almost certainly untrue. It was woven, through and through, with boastfulness masquerading as modesty. He was acting as if he expected some sort of reward from Qilue. The high priestess, however, either missed his cues-or ignored them.

Which was just fine with Cavatina. She didn't like Q'arlynd. He was too deliberately self-depreciating in that smarmy way that males fresh out of the Underdark had.

She stood slightly behind Q'arlynd, where he wouldn't see her silent communication to Qilue: Remember the prophecy. His sister proved herself loyal. This must be the Melarn who will betray us.

Qilue gave her a brief glance. Q'arlynd's betrayal is already past, she sent back, communicating mind to mind. I expected as much from him. He will be redeemed yet.

The wizard was still talking. "It would appear, Lady Qilue, that Eilistraee has triumphed over the Masked Lord. Moments after the gate closed again, the magic of his clerics became corrupted. The spells they tried to cast were laced through and through with Eilistraee's moonfire. Upon seeing that and realizing it must be significant, I came back immediately to make my report." He held up the mask. "And to return this to you."

Q'arlynd looked at the high priestess expectantly, but Qilue merely nodded and took the mask from the wizard's hand. Her expression remained noncommittal.

The wizard's shoulders slumped slightly. Then they straightened again. "Lady," he said, bowing once more. "I must say that it gives me great joy that, despite my blunders-despite being killed and later enslaved-I was still able to serve Eilistraee." He bowed again and added, "and to serve you."

The silence stretched.

A short distance away, lay worshipers cleared away the dead. The bodies of the faithful were gently laid onto blankets and carried away, but the corpse of the Selvetargtlin was left where it lay. Later, it would be burned.

Qilue touched the wizard's shoulder, bidding him to rise. Aloud, she said, "Go to the Hall of Healing, Q'arlynd. Someone is waiting there for you."

The wizard hid his disappointment well. He gave Qilue a puzzled look. "Who, Lady?"

"Rowaan."

The wizard's eyes widened. "But… her soul…"

"Flew straight to Eilistraee's domain, with those of the other two priestesses, as the gate opened. By the grace of our goddess, it was not consumed."

Halisstra's brother gave a relieved sigh. Perhaps he wasn't as unfeeling as he seemed, or perhaps he was just a good liar.

"Lady," he exclaimed. "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that." He bowed again then hurried away.

Cavatina watched Q'arlynd make his way out of the cavern then turned to Qilue. "What a tale that one told!"

The high priestess nodded. "It's true. If not every word, at least in its essence."

That made Cavatina blink. "It is? Vhaeraun's really dead?"

Another nod. "I expected that Q'arlynd might fail in the task I assigned him, despite the geas I placed on him. Shortly after I sent him on his way, I entered communion with Eilistraee and warned her that Vhaeraun was poised to enter Svartalfheim. The goddess was prepared. Vhaeraun might be a master of stealth, but when the advantage of surprise was taken away from him, Eilistraee's prowess with the sword prevailed."

Cavatina let out a long, slow breath. "So it is true. Two deities, dead. In one day." She gave a fierce grin, unable to contain her pride. "And one of them by my hand."

Qilue glanced at the Crescent Blade. "Your sword served you well."

A voice whispered into Cavatina's mind from the sword. Dead, it chuckled. By my blade.

Cavatina bristled. It had been her victory. The sword was just… a sword. Not only was she irritated at it, but also at Qilue's almost blase response to the news. Chosen of Mystra Qilue might be, but surely she would acknowledge that Cavatina had just slain a demigod. Instead the high priestess just seemed… weary.

"You already knew that Selvetarm was dead?" Cavatina asked.

Qilue gestured at the dead cleric who lay a few steps away. "The Selvetargtlin nearly prevailed. They came within a blade's edge of taking the Promenade then all at once, their prayers failed them."

Cavatina noted Qilue's bloodstained armor and her freshly healed scars, one of which completely encircled her right arm. It had been a close thing. That realization sent a chill through Cavatina, one that tempered the thrill of her triumph.

"Make your report," Qilue said. "Tell me everything that happened." She clapped a hand on Cavatina's web-shrouded shoulder. "And… well done. I owe you my life."

That was better. Taking a deep breath, Cavatina related her tale, ending with her escape from the Demonweb Pits.

"I'm worried about Halisstra," she concluded. "There was no sign of her on the other side of the portal. I would have returned to the Demonweb Pits to search for her, but I didn't want to run the risk of the Crescent Blade falling into Lolth's hands. I came here instead, as quickly as I could."

"You did the right thing," Qilue answered. "I'll scry for Halisstra. We'll find her."

The conviction in the high priestess's voice reassured Cavatina, who felt terrible about leaving Halisstra behind. Not only had the former priestess redeemed herself, she'd tipped the balance between victory and defeat. Halisstra deserved better than to fall into Lolth's hands.

"If Halisstra is still within the Demonweb Pits, I'd like to lead the mission to rescue her," Cavatina said.

"Of course." Qilue pointed at the Crescent Blade. "But that will remain here, in the Promenade, where I can keep an eye on it. Until the time comes to challenge Lolth herself, it will be safer in my keeping."