Storm of the Dead

CHAPTER 7

Halisstra hummed softly, using her bae'qeshel magic to conceal herself from sight. Slowly she descended on a thread of web toward the pair who walked below. The tree she lurked in was thick with leaves. Though they rustled slightly during her descent, the male and female below didn't seem to notice. The couple was in the throes of a heated argument, their raised voices obscuring the slight sounds from above.

"-why we need to keep up this pretense," the male said. " 'She' is no longer 'Lady' anything-just listen to her voice!"

"Eilistraee is still female," his companion insisted. "She assumed the mask-and the voice-as an encouragement for you to join her faith. You chose to acknowledge her as your patron deity. Now you must pay her the proper respect."

"I chose nothing," the male answered. "My hand was forced."

"You could have gone off with the others-the ones who think a portion of Vhaeraun is still alive, somewhere on the Astral Plane."

"He is alive. He lives inside Eilistraee."

"She killed him."

"Vhaeraun allowed his body to be stripped away so he might join with her. The resulting union is the Masked Lord and Lady of the Dance in one. Either title is equally appropriate. Your faith is a matriarchy no more."

"Our faith, for better or worse. We-"

The pair moved on. Halisstra landed gently on the trail they'd just passed along. Her glimpse of them through the moon-dappled branches had confirmed that both were drow. The male wore black leather armor and a soft black mask, and was armed with a wristbow on each forearm. The female wore mithral chainmail over her clothes and carried a sword and shield. An astonishing sight: a priestess of Eilistraee and a cleric of Vhaeraun, patrolling a stretch of the Forest of Shadows together. And doing a poor job of it.

Halisstra pointed at a branch ahead of the pair and off to one side in the forest. She sang a brief melody. The branch bent then sprang back. The pair gave a start, then leaped into action. The male signaled flank left and fell back along the trail, toward the spot where the invisible Halisstra crouched. As the female cautiously moved ahead, Halisstra whispered her song a second time, causing a rustling deeper in the woods. The female moved through the trees in pursuit of whatever she imagined was lurking at the side of the trail.

In another moment the pair would realize they'd been tricked-but a moment was all Halisstra needed.

The male had shrouded himself in darkness, but Halisstra's eyes penetrated his flimsy concealment. She sprang at him. He whirled and raised both fists, his wristbows thrumming. One of the bolts glanced harmlessly off Halisstra's hardened skin. The second punched into her torso just beneath her left breast. It stung-but the puncture immediately began to heal, pushing the bolt outward. The poison that coated it did nothing to slow her. Grabbing the cleric by his outstretched arms, she yanked him close and sank her fangs into his neck. Pain stiffened his body. His eyes rolled back in his head. Then he gave a soft grunt and sagged in her arms.

Halisstra, visible for the time being, examined his body. Her single bite had only rendered the cleric unconscious. She spun him, laying on a thin coating of web. Then, clutching the sticky body to her chest with her spider legs, she sprang into a nearby tree. Swift as a spider, she swarmed up its trunk and deposited the cleric in the crook of a branch.

A moment later, Eilistraee's priestess reappeared below. "Glorst?" she whispered. She glanced around, then squatted and touched something on the ground. Web glinted on her fingers as she rose. She touched the holy symbol that hung against her chest and glanced up.

Halisstra waved down at her, releasing a spray of hair-thin web.

The priestess sang a shrill note and grabbed a beam of moonlight that appeared over her head. She hurled it like a lance at Halisstra. The moonbeam plunged into Halisstra's stomach, droning through her vitals and leaving them feeling loose and watery. Bloody bile rose in her throat. Even as she choked it down she felt her damaged organs mending.

"Why do you attack me, priestess?" she gasped. "I've done nothing to you."

The priestess yanked a hunting horn from her belt and blew a strident plea for help. Halisstra knew no one would arrive in time. She'd deliberately chosen an ambush point on the outskirts of the shrine's territory.

The crossbow bolt had nearly worked its way free of Halisstra's ribs. She yanked it out and tossed it down. "Your companion tried to kill me," she told the priestess. "And yet…" She lifted the cleric's body and tossed it down. "I showed mercy."

The unconscious cleric tumbled through the branches, the sticky webbing that coated him slowing his descent. He landed with barely a thud on the forest floor.

The priestess frantically sang a protective hymn.

"Don't you know who I am?" Halisstra cried. "Why do you fear me?"

"Your tricks won't work on me, demon," the priestess shouted back. Though her sword was steady enough in her hand, her voice quavered. She bent to touch fingers lightly to her companion's throat.

The gesture told Halisstra everything she needed to know: the pair were more than fellow clerics. No one but a lust-addled fool would pause to check if her consort was alive. Halisstra had made the right decision in not killing the male outright.

"I came to beg your help," she told the priestess. "And instead of showing Eilistraee's mercy, you and your male try to kill me." She leaped to the ground, clutched herself as she landed, and pretended to stagger. She forced herself to vomit, filling the air with the tang of bilious blood.

To her credit, the priestess didn't flinch. Even though Halisstra loomed over her, she stepped between Halisstra and the paralyzed male.

"I mean you no harm," Halisstra continued. "I'm looking for Lady Cavatina. She promised to help me." She looked down at her misshapen hands. "I wasn't always a monster. I was a priestess, like yourself, until I was transformed by Lolth's foul magic."

Doubt showed for the first time in the priestess's eyes. "Who are you?"

"Halisstra Melarn."

"No," the priestess whispered-but the word held no conviction. She lowered her sword slightly. "By Eilistraee's silver tresses, is it true?"

Halisstra lifted a hand, hesitated, then held out fingers that were dark with blood from her wounds. "It's true," she sang.

Into those two brief words, she spun powerful magic. The priestess's expression softened. She sheathed her sword. "I'm so sorry," she said. "Had I known-"

Halisstra waved the apology away, spiderwebs drifting from her hand. "How could you have known? I was captured by yochlols and subjected to…" She lowered her voice to a hoarse whisper, "… unthinkable torments. For nearly two years, I languished in the Demonweb Pits before at last escaping."

The priestess frowned. "Two years? Lady Halisstra, it has been nearly five years since you set out for the Demonweb Pits with the Crescent Blade."

"And nearly two years ago that I escaped-and returned to the Demonweb Pits with Lady Cavatina, to slay Selvetarm."

"But…" The priestess's frown deepened. "It was Lady Cavatina who killed Selvetarm… wasn't it?"

"With my help."

"Then why do the odes say nothing of-"

"Aside from Lady Qilue, only Cavatina knew that I still lived. And Cavatina has a Darksong Knight's pride. She would hardly have admitted to letting Lolth's minions capture me a second time, would she? Better not to mention my involvement at all. To pretend that I had died years before, during Lolth's Silence."

At the word "died," the priestess glanced down at the male. The cleric didn't look good; his eyes had fully rolled back in his head and his skin was turning gray. Halisstra reached out and lifted the priestess's chin, forcing her to look away. "It's only a weak venom," she lied. "You have plenty of time to heal him. Plenty of time, still."

"Yes," the priestess repeated softly. "Plenty of time."

Her eyes reminded Halisstra of another priestess who'd succumbed to Halisstra's bae'qeshel magic, years ago. Seyll had stared just as trustingly into Halisstra's eyes a heartbeat before Halisstra plunged a sword into her. And yet Seyll had told Halisstra, as she lay dying, that no one was beyond redemption-not even Halisstra.

She'd been wrong.

This priestess had a wide mouth and creases at the sides of her eyes that could only have come from frequent laughter. The frown of confusion looked out of place on her forehead. The slight bulge of her stomach hinted she might be carrying a child.

Halisstra hated her.

"What's your name, priestess?"

"Shoshara."

"I need to find Cavatina, Shoshara. She's the only one who can lift the Spider Queen's curse. The priestesses at the Lake Sember shrine told me she came here for the High Hunt. Is she still in the Shilmista Forest?"

The priestess shook her head. "Lady Cavatina left a few days ago. Lady Qilue summoned her to the Promenade."

Halisstra's jaw clenched. "Which road is she traveling?"

"She isn't going by road. She used the portal. She'll be at the Promenade already."

Halisstra hissed angrily. This was an obstacle she hadn't counted on. Portal or no, she'd never get inside the Promenade-not with a demon's mark on her palm. Her fingers inadvertently tightened on the priestess's chin, and her claws pricked flesh. When Shoshara gasped, Halisstra released her and feigned contrition, curling her body into a submissive ball. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to. Please don't hurt me again, Mistress."

The priestess rubbed her chin, then glanced at the faint smudge of blood on her fingers. "No real harm done," she said with a vague laugh. "Eilistraee's mercy is infinite." Her eyes strayed to the cleric. His mask lay flat against his mouth and nose; he no longer breathed.

Halisstra rose and caught the priestess's hands in hers. She turned Shoshara slightly, preventing her from looking at the corpse. "Shoshara, please. I can't enter the Promenade. Not looking like… this. You have to call Cavatina back to the Shilmista Forest."

"I'll send word to her. Tell her you're coming and-what's happened to you."

"No!" Halisstra cried. "Cavatina will feel immense guilt at having abandoned me. She'll refuse to come."

"Not Lady Cavatina. She has more honor than that."

"You don't know her. Not the way I do. You haven't seen what she's capable of. I…" Halisstra paused, trying to call tears to her eyes. It didn't work. "I have. Nearly two years ago, in the Demonweb Pits." She lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. "Abandoned."

That emotion, at least, was easy enough for Halisstra. All she had to do was think of Eilistraee's betrayal. The Lady of the Dance had indeed turned away from Halisstra, leaving her to face Lolth alone on that first journey to the Demonweb Pits during Lolth's Silence. No matter what excuses Qilue might give, that fact remained.

And just look what had come of it.

"But Lady Cavatina returned to the Demonweb Pits after slaying Selvetarm," the priestess exclaimed. "She must have gone there to search for you, before sealing the portal."

Halisstra widened her eyes in feigned shock. "Cavatina sealed the portal? I thought that was Lolth's doing!" She shook her head in mock disbelief. "So that's why my first escape attempt failed. Cavatina betrayed my faith in her." She glared. "Cavatina should apologize to me. She owes me at least that much."

The enchantment she'd placed on Shoshara was strong; Halisstra could see the pity in the other female's eyes-and the rising anger at Cavatina's "betrayal" of Halisstra. Shoshara believed Halisstra's story. Every word of it.

"You said you have the magic to contact Cavatina?" Halisstra asked.

Shoshara nodded, much to Halisstra's relief.

"With a sending song?"

Another nod.

"Will you call her back to the Shilmista? I want to hear from Cavatina's own lips that she didn't just abandon me. But please, make up some other reason for calling her back. Don't tell Cavatina I'm here. I want to see how she reacts when she sees me, and give her the chance to explain herself. If I'm wrong about her, I wouldn't want to embarrass her or… anger her." Shoshara took a deep breath, then made her decision. "I'll do it."

The priestess sang a brief melody and stared off into the darkened woods, as if looking across a great distance. For several moments, she was silent. She frowned slightly, then nodded. "Lady Cavatina cannot come to the Shilmista. Not now. Lady Qilue is sending her away on an urgent mission. One that must preclude all else."

"Where?" Halisstra hissed. "Where is she being sent?"

Her outburst startled Shoshara. The priestess blinked. "I asked, but she wouldn't…" Her eyes strayed to the prone cleric. Then they widened. "Glorst!" she gasped. She gaped at Halisstra, eyes wide. "You-"

The charm had broken.

Halisstra lashed out, slapping the priestess's face so hard her fingers left a mark. "Die!" she shouted.

Without so much as a cry, Shoshara crumpled atop the body of her consort.

Halisstra stared down at them, her mouth twisted in a grimace of disgust. "Weak!" she spat at the priestess. "You're weak!" Her voice rose to a shriek. "Just look at what you've done!"

She yanked the priestess's body into her arms and bit it savagely on the face, throat, and arms. Again. And again. It was a bloody ruin when she at last threw the priestess down. Panting, she shook her head, clearing it. When her breathing slowed again, she bent and-very deliberately, this time-inflicted several bites on the already cooling body of the male.

She drew the priestess's sword and placed it where it might have fallen, had it tumbled from Shoshara's dead hand, and shrouded both bodies with web. Halisstra couldn't mimic a spider's digestive juices, but she could strew web about the bushes, as if it had been shot from above by spinnerets.

Halisstra was angry at herself-angry for not having first asked where the portal to the Promenade was. But she could hazard a guess. During her time at the Velarswood shrine, she'd observed priestesses, recently arrived from the Promenade, who were dripping wet. There had been a pool near that shrine, innocent looking, yet always heavily guarded from moonrise to moonset. She'd seen a similar pool in the Shilmista Forest.

She squinted through the branches at the night sky and smiled.

Eilistraee's moon would light the way to her prey.

Cavatina squinted as she swam upward through the ice-cold water. The surface of the lake, bright with the light of the full moon, rippled above. They'd portaled in deep; the surface was farther above her than she'd expected. Already her lungs strained from the lack of air. When she broke the surface, she gasped in a long, grateful breath.

Treading water, she twisted around. The Moondeep Sea glowed with moonlight-bright enough to illuminate the ceiling, nearly two hundred paces above.

A head broke the surface next to her: Karas. His mask was plastered against his mouth; a shake of his head freed it. "You should have… warned us… the portal was… so deep," he gasped.

Cavatina thought the same thing-of Qilue.

"Watch for the others," she told Karas. "If any don't make it, we'll have to revive them."

That said, she levitated. A quick glance around revealed no imminent threats. Aside from the disturbance caused by the portal, the Moondeep Sea was quiet and still. She'd been wrong about it being moonlight illuminating the ceiling. Everywhere she looked, the stone that made up the cavern was infused with a faint glow. It shimmered with a pale blue light that was almost white: the largest Faerzress she a ever seen.

She counted heads as the Protectors and Nightshadows broke the surface, one by one. Some used prayers to stand upon the moonlit ripples, and others hovered just below the surface, breathing water, then rose and sprayed water from their nostrils in fine sheets.

Two of the wizards sputtered up without any visible magical aid: Q'arlynd and the young mage from the College of Divination. A short distance from them, the female conjurer rose to the surface in a swell of water, the cupped hands of an elemental she must have summoned. As it was subsumed into the lake, a whirlpool dimpled the surface directly below. The human wizard with the staff rose out of it, bone dry, and levitated beside her.

The other wizards used equally creative methods to exit the depths. One climbed out of the lake as if scaling an invisible ladder, while another rose to the surface sucking on a blue, blown-glass bottle that didn't look as if it could possibly contain enough air to sustain her. The wizard in the gold skullcap tossed a tiny wooden box away from himself as he broke the surface, and it unfolded into a small wooden boat. He climbed, dripping, into it, and with a flick of his hand magically set its oars to sculling.

Everyone was accounted for. Those who hadn't risen from the water by magical means were treading water. Cavatina glanced around to get her bearings, then pointed at the spot where they were to meet the svirfneblin: a tunnel, bored into the cavern, with a beachlike mound of rubble in the lake below. Fortunately, it wasn't too far away.

That tunnel, she signed to the others. Make for it.

With a mental command, she lowered herself until she hung horizontally above the lake. Then she "swam" forward, immersing only her hands. When she reached the base of the rockfall, she drew her singing sword and climbed the slope. Her boots let her spring lightly from one foothold to the next. Pausing at the top, she peered into the mine tunnel. It should have been gloomy, but instead, its walls were illuminated with the faint, flickering light of the Faerzress.

Nothing stirred inside the tunnel.

That didn't surprise her. The Acropolis was several leagues away, and the Moondeep Sea was remote and rarely visited. The Crones would position any guards closer to their own cavern. Nevertheless, as the first of the Protectors reached the spot where she stood, Cavatina pointed down the narrow tunnel. Scout ahead, she ordered in silent speech, one thousand paces. Report each quarter count. The priestess nodded and disappeared into the tunnel.

Cavatina ordered another Protector to remain at the bottom of the rockfall and keep watch over the lake. That priestess took up her position, singing sword in hand, as the others climbed or levitated to the spot where Cavatina stood.

Much to her irritation, Karas set up his own guard at the bottom of the rockfall and ordered a Nightshadow into the tunnel. Cavatina caught the male's arm as he tried to pass her. "Wait," she whispered. "We'll have our first report in a moment."

The Nightshadow glanced back at Karas.

"I give the commands," she hissed at the Nightshadow. "Not him."

"Yes, Lady," he murmured.

Karas climbed up next to them. "Are we not following Qilue's orders? 'Stick together,' you quoted her as saying. Nar'bith is a master at stealth, silent as shadow. And two pairs of eyes are better than one."

Two more Nightshadows had just climbed up the rockfall behind Karas, eyes watchful above their masks.

"Four eyes are better than two," Cavatina agreed. "But if you give orders that overlap mine, there will be unfortunate consequences." She nodded at the Nightshadow whose arm she still held. "This male, skewered on the Protector's sword. I must warn my priestess he's coming."

Karas inclined his head. "Fair enough." His eyes remained unrepentant. "Warn her."

Cavatina's eyes narrowed. She knew he was trying, once again, to one-up her, to appear as if he was giving the orders, but she wasn't about to waste time sparring with him. She warned Halav with a sending then she released the Nightshadow.

He drifted away into the tunnel, his footsteps utterly silent. Karas turned away and clambered back down to the water. He disappeared from Cavatina's view.

The rest of the Nightshadows, Protectors and wizards gathered around her at the mouth of the tunnel, their sodden clothing dribbling water. Some stared at the Faerzress but most had their attention on Cavatina.

"So far, so good," she told them, voice low. "We appear to have arrived undetected." As she spoke, she wondered where the deep gnomes were. They'd been told to return that night, as soon as the full moon appeared on the underground sea's surface. But the Promenade's battlemistress hadn't been clear on how the svirfneblin would arrive. Over the Moondeep, by boat? Or from the tunnels?

Several moments passed. The Protectors stood patiently, waiting for Cavatina's orders, but the mages and Nightshadows were getting restless.

Where were those svirfneblin?

A sending came from the priestess Cavatina had ordered into the tunnel. I'm two hundred and fifty paces in, Halav reported. All clear so far.

A moment later, Karas climbed back to where Cavatina stood. "I've just found a svirfneblin in the water," he said in a low voice. "Dead."

"Show me."

She followed him down the rockfall, a handful of the others trailing behind her. As they approached, she spotted a ripple in the water, a few paces out on the Moondeep: a small animal, swimming. It looked like a rat. As if sensing her presence, the rat dived beneath the surface and vanished.

Karas squatted beside the water. There, he signed, pointing to a water-filled crevice between the rocks.

Cavatina kneeled beside him. It was a deep gnome, all right, little bigger than a child, but with a stocky body that bulged with muscle. Cavatina reached into the water, gently pulled the body out, and set it on the rocks at her feet. The head was missing, and by the ragged look of the neck it had been yanked or chewed off. Whether that had happened before or after the deep gnome died was impossible to tell. There weren't any other visible wounds. The svirfneblin's clothing-plain leather trousers and a sleeveless shirt-was also undamaged. His feet were bare; perhaps he'd been swimming when he died.

"Eilistraee's mercy," she whispered.

The others crowded close, staring down at the corpse. Q'arlynd squatted next to it. He lifted a limp hand and studied it a moment, then let it fall.

Daffir passed a hand over the body, not quite touching it. His other hand tightened on his staff. "A bad omen."

Cavatina didn't need magic to tell her that.

"Is this our guide?" the female wizard asked.

Karas stared grimly down at it. "Not anymore."

Another sending from Halav: I'm five hundred paces in. No sign of the svirfneblin, aside from a prospector's pick. Looks like it was dropped here. No telling when.

The svirfneblin's gray flesh had a waxy, bloated look. Despite its immersion in cold water, the body was starting to smell.

"If this is our guide, he arrived several days early." Cavatina stood and glanced at the reflection of Selune and the scattering of Tears that trailed the moon's reflection as it slid slowly across the Moondeep. "We'll continue to wait. We'll give it until moonset."

"Waiting is a waste of time." Karas said. "No guide's going to show. Not after what happened to this fellow."

"We don't know that," Cavatina said. "If we leave now, we'll have to guess which way to go once we've reached the limits of our map, which will mean an even greater waste of time." She nodded to the wizards. "That won't sit well with the masters of your colleges."

Several of the mages nodded.

The sun elf, however, shook his head. "I see no point in waiting," Khorl said. "When we reach the end of the mapped region, my magic will show us the way. Unlike the rest of you, I can still cast divinations, despite the Faerzress that surrounds us."

Cavatina shook her head firmly. "Kiaransalee's priestesses may be crazed, but they aren't fools. They'll have warded their cavern with protections similar to those of the Promenade. Your divinations may find the path-or they may not. In case they can't, we stick to the original plan. We wait."

She pointed at the corpse. "In the meantime, do any of you know what should be done? What the svirfneblin customs are when dealing with the dead? When our guide shows up, we don't want to offend him."

"I do," Q'arlynd said. "I had a… an ally, years ago, who was svirfneblin. He told me about the god the deep gnomes venerate-Callarduran Smoothhands, master of stone. When a deep gnome dies, it's appropriate for him to be 'returned to Smoothhands's embrace.'" Q'arlynd paused and stroked his chin. "With your permission, Lady Cavatina, 1 have a spell that can do just that."

Cavatina nodded. "Use it."

Another sending came from Halav. Seven hundred and fifty paces in. Still clear.

Q'arlynd motioned the others back. He reached into a pocket of his piwafwi, pulled out a pinch of something, and tossed it onto the stones beside the body. As he chanted, the rocks beneath the corpse slumped and became as soft as mud. Q'arlynd gently pushed the body into them, submerging it. That done, he washed the mud from his hands and spoke a second arcane word. The mud solidified, stone once more.

As they climbed back to the tunnel mouth, Cavatina leaned close to Q'arlynd. "Well done. Your friend would have been proud."

"My ally," Q'arlynd corrected.

"As you wish."

Those who had followed Cavatina down to the water returned to the tunnel's mouth. Once again they stood about. Waiting. Cavatina wondered if the svirfneblin would show. Perhaps the corpse Q'arlynd had just buried had been their guide.

The human diviner was leaning against his staff, watching. Suddenly he tensed. "Something's coming."

"What is it?" Cavatina asked, instantly alert.

"Something… big." Daffir turned and stared out across the underground sea.

"A boat?" one of the Protectors guessed.

"As big as a boat, but… not a boat. A… creature. Whatever it is, it means us ill."

Cavatina scanned the Moondeep, but the surface of the water was unbroken. Nothing moved on it-not even a rat. She glanced at Daffir but couldn't see his eyes behind those dark lenses.

The others drew weapons or readied spell components. The Nightshadows faded back into the tunnel.

"Where is it now, Daffir?" Cavatina demanded.

Daffir shook his head. "That, Lady, I cannot tell. Only where it… will be."

"We should move away from the water," the wizard in the gold skullcap said. "Up the tunnel."

"Agreed," Karas said. "Before whatever killed the svirfneblin realizes we're here."

"No," Cavatina countered. "We stay here. Conceal ourselves and watch the lake." She did, however, call back the Protector and the Nightshadow who were down at the lake's edge. No sense taking chances.

Another sending came: One thousand paces in. With a chuckle in her voice, Halav added. Still nothing-except for a pair of boots, this time.

Cavatina frowned. Boots? She glanced down at where the svirfneblin's body lay. How large are they?

Small. Child-sized.

The Nightshadow whom Karas had sent down the tunnel reappeared and signaled that the way was clear.

"That's it," Karas said. "We're going." His forefinger flicked a signal to the other Nightshadows. Move out.

"Hold it right there," Cavatina barked.

The Nightshadows hesitated. They glanced between Karas and Cavatina.

She rounded on Karas. "We're having this out, here and now," she said in a low voice. "Qilue put me in charge of this expedition, not you. Eilistraee deemed it should be so. Do you dare risk displeasing her by disobeying me?"

Without waiting for his answer, she turned to the others. "My priestess just found a pair of boots in the tunnel." She pointed down at the dead svirfneblin. "Gnome-sized boots. If they're his, maybe he was forced to run before he could put them on. Whatever killed him might still be lurking in the tunnel."

"You heard Daffir's prophecy," Karas countered. "Whatever's going to attack us is out there. Submerged in the Moondeep."

"'Attack us?'" Cavatina echoed. She shook her head at Karas. She was fed up with this. "Tell you what. I'll call my priestess back. You, personally, can take her place. That way, if something does rise out of the Moondeep, you'll be in a nice, safe place where nothing's going to-"

A faint wail came from deep in the tunnel: the sound of a singing sword in combat. The Protector's sending came a heartbeat later: Undead! Huge! Its head alone blocks the-

The sending cut off abruptly.

Fall back, Cavatina sent back at Halav. We're coming. She pointed briskly at the Protectors. "You, you, and you, follow me. The rest of you wait here. Whatever Daffir sensed isn't in the lake-it's in the tunnel. We'll draw it back here. Attack when it emerges."

To her surprise, Karas nodded briskly. Gilkriz did the same. As Cavatina sprinted away down the tunnel, the three Protectors close on her heels, she glanced over her shoulder and saw some of the wizards levitating away from the opening of the tunnel and others vanishing. Daffir, however, remained in plain sight, leaning on his staff and nodding.

She kept running. The floor of the tunnel was flat. Cavatina and the priestesses made good speed. The sound of Halav's singing sword-and the howls of whatever she fought-grew louder. Then Halav was in sight.

The Protector battled furiously, her sword a melodic blur as she hacked at the thing that blocked the tunnel: an enormous head, large as a giant's. It crept along the tunnel on a tentacle-like nest of writhing veins, its enormous mouth opening and closing as it came. Other, smaller heads bulged out of its forehead and cheeks as it slithered along. These screamed or moaned piteously as they broke the skin, then fell silent as they sank back into it again.

Even from a distance, Cavatina felt the waves of fear pulsing off the thing. She raised her singing sword in front of her as she ran and felt it slice through the magical fear, sending it sloughing off to each side. Only a hundred paces remained; they were almost there.

Rearing up, the monstrosity pointed a tentacle at Halav. "Die," it croaked.

Halav stiffened. Her sword drooped in her hand, its singing fading to a moan. But Halav was strong and shielded by Eilistraee's blessings. Shaking off the creature's spell, she staggered back.

"Halav!" Cavatina cried. "We're right behind you. Fall back!"

Cavatina was close enough to get a good look at the smaller faces that bulged out of the monstrous head. One of them was gray-skinned and bald: a svirfneblin. She grabbed her holy symbol as she ran, intending to sing a prayer. "Fall back, Halav!" she shouted. "You're in the way."

Halav tried to back away, but a tentacle whipped out and coiled around her chest. It snapped taut, yanking her off her feet. It pulled the failing priestess head-first toward the gaping mouth. Teeth snapped shut, severing her neck.

"No!" Cavatina cried.

The tentacle flung the headless body aside. A heartbeat later, Halav's face bulged out of the monstrous head's cheek, screaming.

Cavatina shouted a prayer. A bolt of moonlight streaked from her hand like a thrown lance. It slammed into the enormous forehead in the same instant that two other magical attacks flew past her: a streak of holy fire and a sparkling sheen of positive energy that rippled down the tunnel like diamond dust carried by ripples on a pond. The enormous head rocked back on its tentacles as they struck.

That was it. Cavatina's chance. She leaped forward, sword raised-

A tentacle lashed out, slapping against her breastplate. A weak blow, not enough to halt her charge, but Cavatina felt a rush of pain. Her chest was warm and wet. Bloody. The thing had used magic to wound her, magic that had bypassed her armor.

She staggered back and gasped out a healing prayer. She expected the creature to follow her, to try to snatch her with a tentacle, yet it remained where it was. One of the smaller heads disappeared with a wet pop, like a boil bursting. The enormous mouth creaked open wide, as if taking a deep breath.

"Tash'kla!" Cavatina shouted. "Ward us!"

In the same instant the Protector behind Cavatina sang out her prayer, the undead head gave a ghastly wail. A chill swept through Cavatina, weakening her. Then the ward muted the sound. Cavatina and the three priestesses behind her remained standing, saved by Eilistraee's blessing.

She flung out an arm, pointing. "Get Halav's body out of here!" At the same time, she pressed home her attack.

A tentacle lashed out at her, and she sliced it off. The undead thing drew back, its smaller heads bulging then disappearing again, all of them howling and screaming. Cavatina thrust at the spot where Halav's face bulged-a mercy blow-but her sword point struck an invisible shield and skewed to the side. Momentarily unbalanced, she staggered and nearly fell. She quickly recovered, dancing out of range of yet another tentacle. Risking a glance behind her, she saw two of the Protectors lifting Halav's headless body and hurrying away. The halfling Brindell scooped up Halav's singing sword in one hand while whirling her sling. Before Cavatina could order her not to, she let fly one of her magical pellets.

Suddenly, Cavatina was fighting in utter silence. She could see the smaller heads screaming as they rose like boils, then sank away again into the morbid flesh. Her sword vibrated in her hands yet she couldn't hear the sharp smack of it hitting flesh or the sound of its singing.

Brindell had silenced the head, but she'd snared Cavatina, as well. Cavatina had been about to sing a prayer, but couldn't.

She danced backward, fighting with one hand. By my side! she signed with her free hand. A fighting retreat.

Together with the halfling she fell back, always just a few paces from the monstrous head, which came on in eerie silence. Halav had been right: it completely filled the tunnel. There was no way to squeeze past it, and there seemed precious little they could do to defeat it. Prayers that would have reduced a lesser undead creature to an inert mass of flesh had no effect, and the head could throw a magical shield in front of itself at will. It slithered relentlessly along on its tentacles, bearing down on the two retreating priestesses.

The magical silence that enveloped the head abruptly fell away. Its smaller heads shrieking in agony, the monster head slithered up the wall as though weightless. It seemed to be avoiding the floor of the tunnel. Why?

Cavatina glanced down. The floor was slippery from the water that had dribbled from their wet clothing when they ran into the tunnel. A tentacle brushed against it, then recoiled.

Cavatina smiled. Now she knew how to defeat the thing.

She twisted around and snapped out a sending to the female wizard. Mazeer! Fill the tunnel with water. Now!

A moment later, a sloshing rumble filled the corridor behind them. "Hold your breath!" Cavatina shouted at Brindell.

A wall of water slammed into them, sweeping both priestesses off their feet. Cavatina crashed into the monstrous head, barely managing to keep hold of her sword. Tentacles flailed at her arms, legs, torso. One wrapped around her and squeezed, driving the air from her lungs. Then it slipped away. The wall of flesh buckled and the cacophony of the smaller heads turned to a weak gurgling. Then the head broke apart. The water shoved Cavatina and Brindell forward, carrying them along in a wave of disintegrating flesh and sodden bone.

Cavatina clambered to her feet as the slimy water receded in a reeking wave. Brindell lay gasping on the floor, and Cavatina helped her to her feet. "Are you injured?"

Brindell shook her head. "I'm fine," she gasped. She bent to pick up the singing sword and her sling.

A moment later, feet splashed up the tunnel toward them. Karas skidded to a halt in front of Cavatina and stared at the remains of the head. "What in the Abyss were you fighting?"

"A giant's head," Cavatina answered, still panting from the fight. "Raised from the dead and animated to move about on its own. The lakewater disintegrated it."

Two more Nightshadows hurried up the tunnel toward them. With a flick of his hand, Karas sent them a few paces beyond the spot where they stood to keep watch. His eyes were thoughtful as he glanced down at the smear of putrid flesh on the floor.

"Looks like you guessed right about the boots," he conceded. "The thing Daffir warned us about was in the tunnel, after all. But how did you know water would-"

"Daffir's prophecy," Cavatina said. "He said he knew where it was 'going.' " She pointed back toward the main cavern. "To the Moondeep. In pieces." She shook her head. "No wonder he was so nonchalant when the rest of the group scattered. He foresaw victory."

Karas nodded. He peered down the tunnel. "Was there just the one head?"

Cavatina was suddenly angry." 'Just the one' was enough to kill Halav," she snapped.

Karas looked contrite. "My apologies, Lady. I meant no disrespect."

Cavatina sighed. "Where is her body now?"

"I ordered Gilkriz to ready his magical boat and place her body in it, so she could be rowed back to the portal. I realized she would need to be returned to the Promenade. She'll need resurrection, since she's not… whole."

Cavatina nodded wearily. So soon into their mission, and already one of those under her command was dead. Halav would be resurrected and made whole again, Eilistraee willing, but that was a process that took time. Karas was correct in his guess that the prayer couldn't be attempted there. Surprisingly, he'd anticipated the very order Cavatina had been about to give. He'd even done her the courtesy of waiting, so she might give the order herself. "Thank you, Karas."

She considered her options, speaking aloud. "We're going to need the Protectors if we encounter more of these heads. We'll send one of your Nightshadows back with the body to the Promenade."

"That won't be possible."

"Why not?"

Karas gave an elaborate shrug. "None of them knows the hymn that opens the portal."

Cavatina was startled. "They weren't taught it?"

"No. It's as if our voices weren't wanted."

"That's not true."

Karas shrugged. "You could teach one of us the hymn of opening, of course, but by then the moon will have set-and the body's return will be delayed until tomorrow. If another of those heads shows up in the meantime…" Karas glanced over his shoulder-probably hiding the smirk in his eyes.

Cavatina clenched her teeth and stared past him. Karas was right, Abyss take him. It would have to be a Protector who took Halav's body back.

The goodwill she'd been feeling earlier evaporated. Karas was using Halav's death to tip the scales in his favor. With one of her Protectors slain and a second returned to the temple, only four Protectors would be left under Cavatina's command. As compared to six Nightshadows-including the openly rebellious Karas. That imbalance would persist until tomorrow's moonrise, when whichever priestess accompanied Halav's body back to the Promenade was at last able to return. The group would probably be long gone from the Moondeep by then.

Without another word, she strode back to the main cavern and instructed the most junior of the Protectors to return to the temple with the body. That priestess looked angry at being ordered back, but immediately bowed. "Eilistraee's will be done, Lady."

The Protector climbed into Gilkriz's boat and sat down next to Halav's body. Gilkriz settled in beside her and spoke its command word. The paddles rose and fell of their own accord, swiftly carrying the boat out toward the shimmering crescent of moonlight at the middle of the lake.

Cavatina, meanwhile, signaled for the others to gather around her. "I've reached a decision," she told them. "That… thing… was obviously the Crones' work. They must be patrolling this far, so we have to expect more of the same. As soon as Gilkriz rows back, we're going to move away from here, without our guide. We'll see if Khorl can show us the way. But one of us will remain here, in case the guide shows up." She glanced around the group. "Who else of you, besides the Protectors, can sing a sending?"

The Nightshadows glanced at Karas. He made no noticeable gesture, but a heartbeat later they all shook their heads. So did the wizards.

"None of you?" Cavatina asked. She found that hard to believe. It was more likely a matter of nobody wanting to be left behind on their own. Such cowardly behavior was to be expected of Nightshadows. In the wizards it was inexcusable.

"Q'arlynd," she said.

The wizard tensed.

"You're on good terms with the svirfneblin. You're the logical choice. You will stay."

He looked imploringly at her. "But I can't cast a sending. How will I-"

"Simply follow us. Catch up. You studied the map carefully; I'm sure you know the way." Anticipating his next protest, she added, "You need only wait here until the next moonrise. When Chizra returns, you'll have a sword at your side." As she spoke, she surreptitiously touched her holy symbol, weaving Eilistraee's magic into her words.

Q'arlynd cocked his head at the young wizard next to him. "With your permission, Lady Cavatina, I'd like Eldrinn to remain here as well. To watch with me, until Chizra's return."

The younger mage glanced sidelong at the other two diviners. "I can't, Q'arlynd. Father ordered me to-"

"Eldrinn comes with us, and you stay," Cavatina told Q'arlynd. "That's final."

She saw Q'arlynd's jaw tense, but he was quick to hide his anger. His face was expressionless as he bowed. "As you command, Lady Cavatina."