Resurrection (23 page)

"It is ready," she said.

Halisstra could not help but smile. Between the raising of the temple and the consecration of a holy water font, the three priestesses had carved off a little piece of Lolth's plane in Eilistraee's name. It felt good; it felt
defiant.
She wondered how long the temple and font would last before the evil of the Pits reclaimed them.

It will stand forever once Lolth is dead, she thought.

With renewed determination, she knelt before the font and saw her dim reflection in its clear waters. Lolth's eight stars, though they hung directly above her, did not show in the reflection. Halisstra was pleased. Even on her own plane, the Spider Queen could not befoul Eilistraee's font.

Touching her holy symbol, Halisstra sang the song of scrying.

As the magic took shape, she conjured an image of Quenthel Baenre in her mind-her tall stature, her angry eyes and harsh mouth, the long white hair, the whip of serpents, the wand she had stolen from Halisstra…

The clear water darkened. Halisstra felt her consciousness expand. She continued the musical prayer, her voice growing more confident. Though she was not an especially skilled diviner, the words of the scrying spell poured easily from her lips. She knew that Quenthel's wards could protect the Baenre priestess, but she knew with a certainty born of her faith that they would not. Eilistraee's will would be done; Halisstra would be the Dark Maiden's instrument.

An image formed in the font, wavering at first but clearer with each note that Halisstra sang. There was no sound, but when the image came fully into view it was as clear as a portrait. Uluyara and Feliane crowded close to see.

The image showed Quenthel Baenre in the air, clutched to the chest of an enormous creature covered in muscle and short, coarse fur. The rest of the monster's body was not visible. Halisstra's spell conveyed an image of only Quenthel and her immediate surroundings. Anything beyond that appeared as an indistinguishable gray blur.

Quenthel looked forward, a tight smile on her face, her intense eyes burning. Her long hair streamed behind her in the wind. Her mouth moved as if she was shouting something to the creature that held her.

Uluyara said, "She rides in the grasp of a demon. Look at the size of it, the six fingered hands and claws… it is a nalfeshnee."

Halisstra nodded. Quenthel must have summoned and bound the nalfeshnee to her will.

The demon suddenly wheeled higher-Halisstra caused the scrying sensor to follow-into the midst of a swarm of drow souls. The spirits wheeled all around the image, flitting in and out of the spell's "eye."

"The river of souls!" Feliane exclaimed and looked skyward to the shades flowing through the sky. "She is here in the Demonweb Pits, at least."

Halisstra nodded but maintained her concentration, keeping the image focused on Quenthel. The high priestess of Lolth barked something at the demon and freed a hand to brandish her serpent-headed whip. The demon decreased its altitude, and the souls disappeared from the image.

"Where are her companions?" Uluyara said.

Halisstra shook her head. "Possibly just out of view," she said, though she felt a stab of fear for Danifae.

Halisstra had no doubt that Quenthel would kill anyone or anything if it served her purposes. She bit her lip in frustration. Her spell was not revealing enough. They knew Quenthel was flying with a demon somewhere in the Demonweb Pits but nothing more.

"Uluyara," she said through her concentration. "You must help me. We need more information."

Uluyara nodded. "Now that I have seen Quenthel Baenre, there is a spell I can use to aid us. It will take some time to cast. Hold the image another moment. Let me fix the Baenre's appearance in my mind."

The high priestess studied the image for a time then rose.

"Enough," she said. "Release it, Halisstra, before she senses the scrying. There is nothing more to see. Other divinations will serve us now."

With a gasp, Halisstra let the spell dissipate. The image vanished, and the water once more grew clear. She stood, but her knees trembled.

Uluyara touched Halisstra's shoulder with affection and said, "Well done, priestess. You have started us on the path. My own spell can learn how far the Baenre priestess is from here but little else. We will need that and more. While I discern her location, you two shall commune with the Lady and ask her for guidance."

Words failed Halisstra. Her heart raced. Commune with the Lady! When she had been a priestess of Lolth, she sometimes had communed with the Spider Queen as part of her temple's bloody rites, but the experience had never been pleasant. A mortal mind was easily overwhelmed by the divine. She found the thought of communing with Eilistraee both terrifying and exhilarating.

She shared a look with Feliane and saw acceptance in the elf's fair-skinned face. Both nodded at Uluyara.

"Good," said the high priestess. "Let us hurry. As you said, Halisstra, time is short."

"Not here. In the temple," Halisstra offered.

Uluyara nodded and smiled. "Yes. In the temple. Very good."

Under Lolth's sky, the three priestesses hurried back to the hallowed ground of their makeshift temple. There, they cast their spells.

Uluyara sat cross-legged on the floor, her holy symbol cradled in her lap. She closed her eyes, steadied herself, and slipped quickly into a meditative trance. Whispered prayers slipped from her lips, snippets of songs in a language both beautiful and alien to Halisstra.

Halisstra and Feliane sat away from Uluyara, facing each other and holding hands to form a circle. Halisstra's larger hands engulfed those of the elf priestess. Both of their palms were clammy. Feliane placed her holy symbol medallion on the floor between them.

"Ready?" Feliane asked and retook Halisstra's hands.

"Ready," Halisstra acknowledged. She knew the spell they were to cast would create a short-lived connection to Eilistraee. The answers to the questions they would ask would be short and possibly cryptic. Such was the nature of direct communication between gods and mortals.

"I will offer the questions," Halisstra said, and Feliane nodded without hesitation.

With that, they closed their eyes and began the spell. The spell required a prayer offered in song. Halisstra opened, Feliane joined, and soon they sang in time with one another, their voices as one. Power gathered, and windows opened between realities.

Propelled by the spell, their minds reached up and out, through the planes, to the otherworldly home of their goddess.

In the no-place created by the spell, Halisstra could not see, but she could feel-and feel with a vibrancy unlike anything she had previously experienced. Despite herself, she mentally cringed as she awaited contact with the mind of her goddess. She felt Feliane with her, also waiting.

A presence suffused the no-place, and Halisstra braced herself. When the contact came, when Halisstra's mind met that of her goddess in a place-between-places, it was not at all what she had expected. Rather than the overwhelming spite and judgment she had felt when communing with Lolth, she instead felt a sense of overwhelming comfort, love, and acceptance. It was as if she was immersed in a warm, soothing bath.

Ask, daughters,
said a voice in her mind.

The grace in the voice, the gentle love, brought tears to Halisstra's eyes.

Lady,
projected Halisstra.
You know our purpose. Please tell us what Quenthel Baenre seeks and to where the nalfeshnee bears her.

Halisstra sensed approval of the question.

She seeks to become the vessel of my mother's resurrection,
replied the goddess.
Without the
Yor'thae,
Lolth's rebirth will be stillborn.

As the weight of that statement settled on Halisstra's shoulders, Eilistraee continued,
The demon carries Quenthel Baenre to the Pass of the Soulreaver beneath of the Mountains of Eyes. My mother waits on the other side.

An image of high peaks formed in Halisstra's mind, dark spires that rose until they reached the roof of the sky. She had seen the mountains in the distance when first she had materialized on the Demonweb Pits. At the mountains' base stood a dark opening, the sole means of passing through the range-the Pass of the Soulreaver. The name of the pass triggered some old memory in her, as though she had once read of it during her studies in House Melarn, but the particulars escaped her.

How long before she reaches the pass, Lady?
asked Halisstra.

A pause, then,
She will reach them before the tired sun of my mother rises anew.

The connection grew tenuous. The spell was soon to expire. Halisstra felt her goddess moving away from her. She tried to grab on, but Eilistraee slipped through her fingers.

Before the spell dissipated entirely, she mentally blurted,
Does Danifae Yauntyrr still accompany Quenthel Baenre?

She sensed a hesitation and instantly regretted asking such a selfish question. Still, Eilistraee offered an answer, as though from far away, and the words gave Halisstra hope.

Yes.
A pause, then,
Doubt is her weapon, daughter.

The connection went quiet. Halisstra opened her eyes, found herself again clad in her cumbersome flesh, sitting across from Feliane. The elf's eyes too were rimed with tears.

"The Lady favored us," Feliane whispered.

"She did," Halisstra answered. "She did, indeed. If Lolth has no Chosen…"

"Then she will die," Feliane finished.

Halisstra could only nod.

Spontaneously and at the same moment, the two sisters in faith stretched out their arms and embraced, lit with the afterglow of contact with the divine.

"We will succeed," Feliane said, and to Halisstra it sounded more question than statement.

"We will," Halisstra affirmed, though Eilistraee's last words troubled her. For whom was doubt a weapon? Whose doubt? She had no answers.

In short order, Uluyara emerged from her trance, and Halisstra and Feliane related the substance of their communion.

Uluyara took it in with a nod, then said, "The Baenre is three leagues from here. Her route follows the souls. We'll track her, find her, and kill her."

"Her route leads to the mountains," Feliane said. "To the Pass of the Soulreaver."

"Then that is where we are going too," said Halisstra. "We must reach it before the sun rises."

They would once more ride the foul wind of the Demonweb Pits. Halisstra knew they would catch Quenthel and Danifae before they reached the Pass.

"We should assume that Baenre is accompanied by more than the nalfeshnee and Danifae," Uluyara said. "The wizard, the draegloth, and the mercenary you told us about may yet travel with her."

"Agreed," Halisstra said.

As they prepared to set off, Halisstra thought of Danifae, hesitated, then said to Uluyara, "Danifae Yauntyrr said to me once that she had been called by Eilistraee. I would…" She trailed off. "She saved me once, from the draegloth. I would like to give her another chance to answer the Lady."

Uluyara's face showed incredulity. "Is not accompanying Quenthel Baenre answer enough?" she asked. Her face softened at Halisstra's frown, and she reached out a hand as though to touch Halisstra, though she did not. "Halisstra Melarn, your guilt over your life before Eilistraee is affecting your judgment. I know the feeling well. But no one called by the Lady would travel with a priestess of Lolth. If Danifae is with the Baenre, then she is
with
the Baenre."

Halisstra heard sense in Uluyara's words, but she did not want to throw Danifae away so quickly.

"You may be mistaken," Halisstra said. "Let us see what events bring. If she is to be a servant of the Lady, she will show it when she sees me."

Feliane's gaze shifted anxiously between them.

Uluyara's brow furrowed. She started to speak, stopped, and finally said, "Let us not argue about this, not now. As you say, we will see what we will see. I will be pleased to be wrong."

Halisstra stared at the high priestess a moment longer and decided to let the matter rest.

"Gather near me," Halisstra said.

She sang the prayer that would again change them all to mist and let them ride the wind. When she finished the spell, their bodies metamorphosed into vapor. As it had before, Halisstra's field of vision swelled and contracted in a way that made judging distances difficult. Still, she felt in control of her body. They rose from the spire, heading skyward toward the souls high above.

As they ascended into the cloud-roofed sky, Halisstra spared a glance back at the temple, on the tor they had claimed in Eilistraee's name. She knew she would never see it again.

The three priestesses fell in amongst the souls, just three more insubstantial forms amidst the thousands. At Halisstra's mental command, they increased their speed until they were streaking through the air faster than any of the shades, as fast as a bolt fired from a crossbow.

We have you, Quenthel Baenre, she thought. And we're coming.

Deep in the bowels of Corpsehaven, Inthracis stood in an anteroom off to the side of his assembly hall, separated from the finest regiment of his army by ornate double doors. Like the rest of his keep, he had fashioned the doors from carved bone and sheets of flesh. Beyond them stood the five hundred mezzoloths and nycaloths of his elite Black Horn Regiment, all veterans of the Blood Wars. Nisviim had sounded the muster and the Regiment had answered. The nycaloth leaders had already briefed the troops on their assignment and worked them into a killing frenzy with promises of glory and payment of twenty soul-larvae each.