The priestess laughed. "Only for a moment, demon. And think on this: if T'lar uses that pretty little dagger of hers properly, being parted from your skin will only temporarily kill you. As long as you die here, you'll re-manifest in the Abyss." She gestured at his body. "Free of that annoying wizard, I might add."
The quasit met the high priestess's eyes briefly, then let out a heavy, sulfurous sigh. "Fine," it said petulantly. "I'll let him do it." Its eyes slid sideways to T'lar. "But she has to swear by the Spider Queen, that she'll send me back clean. No skin."
T'lar smiled. "I swear it, by Lolth's dark webs."
The demon nodded. It tightened its ring hand into a fist, closed its eyes, and puckered its forehead into a frown of concentration.
The two drow waited. The silence stretched-long enough for the spider on the high priestess's shoulders to scuttle to the ground and spin a trap-web in one corner of the room. At last the quasit's eyes fluttered open. A high-pitched, tittering laugh burst from its lips.
"He saw him, he saw him, he saw him!" the quasit squeaked. "He was talking to a svirfneblin."
T'lar leaned closer. "Where was he?"
The quasit giggled. "Don't know."
Anger hissed from T'lar's lips.
"But he heard where he's going! The 'Fountains of Memory' he said."
T'lar glanced at the high priestess. Streea'Valsharess Zolond shrugged. It seemed she hadn't heard of the place either.
The quasit's head twisted so it could see T'lar. "You have what you wanted. Skin the wizard off me. Send me back to the Abyss."
"Not yet."
"But you swore-"
"Not until Q'arlynd Melarn is dead. Until then, you're staying right where you are."
"Noooo!" the quasit howled.
The hoop had almost slowed to a stop. T'lar reached out and gave it a nudge that sent it spinning again. "Yes."
Halisstra strode through the jungle, following the priestess. She'd slain the first priestess who had disturbed the penance ritual-the one who'd come bleating about the strange song the night twist tree was singing. The second priestess had been smarter. She'd taken the time to decipher the song, and reported it to her superior, rather than interrupting Halisstra. The superior, in turn, had waited until the ritual was over. Her eyes had widened in startled alarm when Halisstra sprang off the throne and caught her by the throat.
"Wendonai?" Halisstra shouted. "Here?"
Unfortunately, the priestess couldn't answer. Halisstra had crushed her throat. The other faithful had balked at that, but a soothing song had drawn them back into Halisstra's web, once more eager and grateful to serve her.
The priestess who had deciphered the song pointed ahead through the jungle at a black, leafless tree growing out of the remains of a tumbled building. A mournful sound poured out of it, the sound of weeping and pleading. The sound of weakness.
"Closer," Halisstra ordered.
The priestess didn't hesitate. Despite the danger the tree's song posed, she strode forward. After three steps, she crumpled to her knees, screaming. A moment later, the night twist's magical attack washed over Halisstra. A phantasm loomed in her mind: the image of Lolth in hybrid form, a spider with Danifae's face. You will never escape me, Lolth leered. You are not a demigod, but a mortal-and you are mine. The illusionary Lolth loomed over Halisstra, her bloated abdomen pulsing. Web oozed from her spinnerets. I will bind and break you, just as I did before. Your weakness will betray y-
Halisstra sang out a loud, clear note that shattered the illusion like glass. A second song stilled the priestess's screams. The smaller female scurried to Halisstra's side, trembling, as Halisstra listened to the night twist's song.
The priestess had been correct. The tree was singing Wendonai's name.
Halisstra looked around. Moonlight, as bright as a hundred torches, illuminated the jungle. Just beyond the night twist was a clearing littered with tumbled masonry. A glint caught Halisstra's eye-a faint light, like moonlight gleaming on metal. She walked toward it. Vines, animated by the night twist's mournful song, twined around her legs, but Halisstra was too strong for them. She continued to the clearing, tearing them like fragile spider webs.
The clearing looked empty. Yet the glint beckoned. Halisstra sang a melody that would reveal the invisible: nothing happened. She edged closer to the glint, alert for any sign of the demon. Wendonai could kill with the flick of a finger. Her memories of him crushing the life from her were still vivid. That time, Lolth's magic had restored her. But Halisstra was no longer the Spider Queen's pet plaything. If Wendonai broke her body a second time, Halisstra might die. Her soul would flutter back to Lolth, and the torment would begin anew.
No, she told herself sternly. That wouldn't happen. She was a demigod now. A mortal who had been raised to godhood by the worship of her faithful. Just like Sheverash, she'd been tempered by pain and suffering, and her soul had been hammered to the hardness of steel. She'd been reborn. She was free of Lolth, and the Spider Queen could no longer claim her.
Even so, she moved cautiously.
The glint hovered above a block of weathered stone. A faint odor wafted from it: the smell of diseased flesh. As Halisstra leaned closer, one of the spider legs protruding from her chest brushed against something. There was an invisible creature here!
She sprang back from the block of stone, her spider legs drumming nervously against her chest. Then she remembered her priestess was watching. She moved forward again, and patted the invisible creature with her hands. It was more or less drow-shaped, and unmoving-frozen in a crouch and covered in a gritty dust that transferred onto Halisstra's hands and sparkled in the moonlight. She patted the air above the invisible creature, where the gleam was, and hissed as something sharp sliced her hand. A more careful probing revealed a cool, flat surface: a curved sword blade, grooved with an inscription. Halfway down the blade, she felt a seam where the blade had been repaired.
Halisstra's lips parted in silent surprise. No! It couldn't be!
"Show me," she hissed. "I command it!"
She felt something twist, deep within her mind. By force of will, she clawed away the magical blinders that covered her eyes. The illusion of emptiness fell away, and the invisible creature was revealed. That was the Crescent Blade she'd felt-in the hands of a demon, no less!
Or… was it a demon?
The female had black skin and white hair long enough to reach the block of stone she squatted on. Her face, like Halisstra's, looked vaguely drow. Her body was as loathsome as Halisstra's own: hunchbacked, spotted with fungus-sized boils, and with grossly elongated limbs. The fingers gripping the Crescent Blade ended in clawlike nails, and her eyes were solid white. She was unmoving, utterly unresponsive to Halisstra's touch; When Halisstra tried scoring her flesh with a claw, nothing happened. She didn't flinch, didn't blink. Just kept staring at something silver that lay on the stone in front of her.
When she realized what it was, Halisstra gasped aloud. One of Eilistraee's holy symbols! The other half of the holy symbol lay on the ground, a pace or two away. The blade had snapped in two-in exactly the same spot as the Crescent Blade had broken, all those years ago, when Halisstra had repudiated Eilistraee.
A shiver coursed through her. She stared at the demonlike female. Was this another priestess who had renounced her faith? Another of those who had tried to return to Lolth's sticky embrace, only to be forced into an agonizing penance?
If so, what was she doing here, so close to Halisstra's temple? What did it mean? Had Lolth placed this fallen priestess here? Had Wendonai?