Lisa Smedman - Ascendancy of the Last

She hummed the bae'qeshel tune that would ensure her invisibility was sustained, and eased into the cleft in the rock. Moments later, she cursed as she realized her target was no longer there. She'd been so close to catching him! Had he teleported away while she was climbing the bluff?

Thunder grumbled overhead. Rain pattered down. The drops blended with the sweat on T'lar's forehead and shaved scalp, and trickled down her body. She tasted salt on her lips. She squatted beside the innermost of the pools within the cleft. The stream that fed it was obviously magical; water didn't flow up a cliff and arc from one pool to the next of its own accord. She eyed it thirstily. Was the water's magic harmful or beneficial-or simply decorative? Would drinking from the pool kill her, or simply quench her thirst?

The innermost pool was about three paces wide and no more than a couple of handspans deep. She could easily make out the bottom of it. There didn't seem to be any fissures or gaps in the stone floor, yet the water flowed into the pool, but didn't go anywhere. It simply… disappeared.

Just a moment. Was that a flash of something, between the pattering raindrops? As she leaned closer, a palm-sized portion of the pool stilled. It was like looking through a tiny window: she caught a glimpse of a tree branch, then a mosaic made of oddly shaped pieces of green glass, then the back of a head with white hair and pointed ears. As the figure turned, T'lar recognized his face. Q'arlynd.

She smiled. So that was what this place was: a portal.

She curled her fingers into a spider and kissed them. "Lolth be praised," she said. The hunt hadn't ended; it had just changed direction.

She stepped into the pool and was teleported away.

Laeral stared into her scrying mirror, her hands on either side of the gilded frame. "Where is Cavatina?" she asked anxiously. "Show me!"

She could see the Darksong Knight, but only dimly. Cavatina's body wavered within the mirror, indistinct and ghostly. Her hair was wild, her expression anguished. She wore armor, but carried no weapon, while the tunic beneath her chain mail was stained and torn. Blood from a scalp wound had dried on her forehead. She moved, apparently aimlessly, through an utterly featureless, solid-gray landscape.

Laeral's hands tightened on the frame. Was Cavatina dead? A spirit wandering the Fugue Plain? If so, why hadn't her goddess claimed her?

The landscape behind Cavatina suddenly shifted, as if she'd just stepped out of shadow into light. She walked along a street now, her legs embedded in solid stone from the knee down. The corner of a building loomed ahead of her. She passed through it and continued on. All around her, the indistinct blurs of people hurried through the street, as none noticed her. A wall-mounted brazier, filled with glowing worms, threw shadows but cast no light on Cavatina. Its light passed, unimpeded, through the Darksong Knight.

"She's ethereal," Laeral breathed. "But… Where?"

Cavatina startled, and looked wildly around. She glanced up at something that was outside the mirror's field of view. She "walked" upward, her body now parallel with the street below, to a metal cage that hung by a chain from a stout beam that spanned the street. A minotaur was inside the cage, gripping the iron bars. His face twisted with rage, and he repeatedly butted the inside of the cage with his massive horns.

Laeral recognized the landmark at once. Cavatina was in Skullport!

A short time later, Laeral stood outside the Deepfires Inn, wearing the disguise she habitually assumed while visiting Skullport: a plain, hooded cloak interwoven with protective dweomers and keep-watch magic. She'd teleported to Waterdeep, passed through the portal linking her former home with a cavern near Skullport, and hurried as quickly as she could through the Underdark city's streets.

She worried that she wouldn't make it in time-that Cavatina would already be gone. As she approached the Deepfires Inn, she pulled a pinch of grave dust from a pocket, tossed it ahead of her, and spoke a divination. It revealed a man in shabby clothes, lurking outside the inn's door. He started as he noticed Laeral looking at him, then slunk away through the foul-smelling muck that mired the street. Laeral swept her hand up, directing her spell at the minotaur's cage-and sighed in relief as Cavatina became visible. The Darksong Knight "stood" in mid-air beside the cage, peering into it intently and shouting at the minotaur, who shouted back at her. The words they hurled at each other were inaudible, as the spell revealed things to the eyes only.

Passersby craned their heads to look up at the spectacle. One nudged another with an elbow. Laeral picked out the words "Eilistraee" and "priestess" in his whispered comment. Ignoring them, Laeral spoke an incantation and made a twisting gesture. Cavatina's body visibly solidified, and her shouts became audible as she was wrenched, fully, into the material world. As she tumbled,. Laeral snapped out a word and pointed. Cavatina jerked to a halt a pace above the ground, and slowly drifted downward.

She landed, and began writhing violently. Her fists pounded the paving stones, and her body twisted this way and that, as if she were dodging blows from an unseen opponent. "The symbol of slime!" she shouted. "Sacrifice the dance to make the eye stop! It's looking at you! We can't allow it to come or it's lost the…"

Laeral started. Cavatina was raving like a madwoman.

Behind her, she heard a chuckle and a derisive comment. "… what they deserved. We won't have to worry about the Promenade no more. It's-"

She whirled and glared at the speaker: a drow who, judging by the heavy manacles he carried in one hand, was a slaver. "What did you just say? What's happened to the Promenade?"

The drow laughed. "Ask your friend." He mocked her with a bow and strode away.

Laeral was tempted to send a bolt from her wand sizzling through him, but there were more urgent matters to deal with. She rushed to Cavatina's side and tried to help the Darksong Knight to her feet, but Cavatina screamed and jerked away. Laeral pulled a pouch from her pocket, tipped out the preserved snake's tongue it held, and clenched it in her fist. She touched her hand to her lips. "I can help you," she told the Darksong Knight in a soothing voice. "Please follow me."

Calmed by magic, Cavatina followed Laeral through Skullport's garbage-strewn streets. She mumbled as she walked. The odd word was intelligible-"slime" and "gate" and "battle"-but Laeral could make no sense of what Cavatina was muttering. It was clear, however, that some calamity had overtaken the Promenade. When Cavatina suddenly shouted the name "Ghaunadaur!" Laeral knew what had happened: another attack by the Ancient One's fanatics. Of all the times Qilue might have chosen to draw Wendonai's taint into herself, this must surely be the worst.

Yet another indication that the time hadn't been of Qilue's choosing.

Laeral's destination was just ahead: the Sisters Three Waxworks. Kaitlyn and her sisters were friends of Laeral's, devotees of Chauntea who posed as simple candle makers. They kept a stock of healing potions on hand, and were adept at restorative spells. Whatever madness afflicted Cavatina, they'd be able to cure it. Laeral opened the door of the shop and coaxed the Darksong Knight inside. "Enter," she said, touching the fist that held the snake tongue to her lips as she spoke. "You'll find peace, here."

Cavatina stumbled into the candlelit shop. Laeral closed the door on the gaggle of Skullport residents who'd tagged along after them, mocking the Darksong Knight by imitating her frenzied, uncoordinated motions. "Kaitlyn," Laeral said to the woman behind the counter as she bolted the door shut. "My friend needs your help. She-"