"The Protector sends his greetings," Felarathael said in a slow, measured voice. The spirit half-turned, and gestured for her to follow. "Come."
"But…" Cavatina looked around. There should have been a beam of moonlight, piercing the mist. A song for her to follow. Or perhaps a pool of silent shadow for her to slip into. She pulled out of Lashrael's embrace. "But I am Eilistraee's."
"Alas!" Lashrael cried, his cheeks awash with tears. "Eilistraee is no more. She was slain-cut down, together with the high priestess, by the treacherous Lady Penitent."
Cavatina's soul trembled. "No!" she gasped.
"All part of the plan," Felarathael said calmly. "There is no further need for Eilistraee. The willing were saved, the unwilling cast down. It is time for the dark elves to return to Arvandor."
"So many!" Lashrael cried, arms thrown open wide. "So many souls to gather! Where will we ever begin?"
"With this one, Lashrael," Felarathael said in a patient voice. "And then, on to the realm where the remainder of Eilistraee's faithful dance."
Cavatina's mind spun. Dark elves? As if in answer, a mirror of silver moonlight framed in a circle of shadow materialized between Felarathael's hands. He held it up for her to see. She beheld herself as she might have been, had she survived. Brown skin, black hair, dark brown eyes. The mirror disappeared.
"Hundreds of you, across the length and breadth of Faerun, were transformed," Felarathael explained. "Hundreds more, below ground. Even now, the mortals who serve our master are braving the Underdark, to guide their dark elf brethren back into the light."
"But what of Qilue?" she breathed.
"Gone!" Lashrael cried. The spirit sank to a kneel, his hands thrust high. "Dead! Forever dead!"
"Her soul was destroyed," Felarathael said solemnly. "But before she died, she saved many. She cleansed the taint from hundreds of drow who might otherwise have been condemned."
"But the rest!" Lashrael wailed. "Thousands! Hundreds of thousands! No hope of redemption for them, with Eilistraee gone. Condemned to darkness and despair, forevermore!"
"Another necessary sacrifice," Felarathael said without a trace of emotion. "Else the game would have been lost."
Lashrael rose and wiped away his tears. A smile replaced them-a smile as wide as the moon. "Now come, daughter. Felarathael and I have dallied here long enough. We've much work ahead, once we get you safely home."
"Home?" Cavatina asked.
Felarathael waved a hand. The mist parted, revealing a lush forest. A crescent moon hung above the oak trees, next to a golden sun. In the foreground, butterflies danced in a glade festooned with wildflowers. A warm breeze carried the scent of grass, blossoms, and clear-flowing streams.
"Arvandor," Felarathael announced.
"Arvandor," Cavatina breathed.
Each of the spirits held out a hand. She took them. Together they led her soul into the realm of the Seldarine.
CODA
Eilistraee startled. Lolth hadn't chosen the piece she'd expected. The Spider Queen instead was pointing to a slightly less powerful Priestess piece that stood next to the one with the curved sword.
Why?
Lolth pointed a web-sticky finger. "The sacrifice," she demanded. "Take that piece out, or forfeit the game."
"A moment, Mother," Eilistraee said. She tipped her head. "Do you hear that?"
The event she'd been waiting for had at last arrived. Her side of the sava board was a mess, her House riddled with holes Ghaunadaur had melted in the board. But the Priest pieces that had materialized with the Ancient One's arrival no longer had an air of menace and purpose about them. Instead they were babbling, uncontrolled, wandering across the board of their own accord.
A moment later, the ooze that had been melting Eilistraee's side of the board dribbled away down a hole one of Eilistraee's Priest pieces had just leaped into, abandoning its minions. The holes remained, but the rot's spread had at last been halted.
Lolth arched an eyebrow. "Well played, Daughter. You seem to have neutralized the threat. And without me even seeing your move. Your brother has taught you much in the art of sleight of hand-but it won't save your Priestess." She flicked a hand. "Do it. Sacrifice her."
Still puzzling over Lolth's choice, Eilistraee grasped the Priestess piece. As she removed it from the board, it spit into two parts with a crack like snapping bone. Sorrowfully, she let the head and body fall from her hand. They tumbled, then turned to mist.
Lolth immediately moved a demonic-looking Priestess piece into the vacant spot. She snapped her fingers, and her throne appeared. She lounged on it, staring across the sava board at Eilistraee. "Your move, daughter."
Eilistraee was thankful for her mask; it hid her smile. Lolth had just made an impetuous move, one that left the piece she'd shifted open to attack. Eilistraee reached for the Priestess piece that held the curved sword, then noted the slight tightening of her opponent's hands on the arms of her throne. The Spider Queen looked relaxed, but her fingers betrayed her tension. Why?
Eilistraee hesitated, her hand still on the piece, not yet moving it. She could see nothing amiss. The move looked secure. Yet something was bothering her…
There. That tickle at her wrist. Without being obvious, she shifted her focus slightly, looking at her hand, rather than the piece it held. Just above her palm, on the inside of her wrist, was a tiny red welt: the burn mark that had been left by the brief touch of Lolth's demonic Warrior piece, just before it had vanished. Eilistraee's Priestess piece-the one that held the curved blade-bore a corresponding mark: a tiny chip in its wrist.
A hole, bored deep-to its very soul.
Treachery! Yet that was only to be expected of the Spider Queen.
Eilistraee, however, also knew much of subterfuge, thanks to the mask she now wore. Another piece on the board bore a similar flaw: this one, in its knee. Eilistraee made the move Lolth was expecting, then feigned surprise and horror as the piece she'd just moved transformed into the Warrior piece and became Lolth's. The Spider Queen seized it and moved it triumphantly to the heart of Eilistraee's House, next to Eilistraee's Mother piece.
"Victory!" she cried. "Move whatever piece you like, Daughter. The game will be lost! Your Mother piece has no moves open. With my next move, I'll destroy it-and the drow will be mine!"
Eilistraee leaned forward, feigning a great sigh. She kept her eyes downcast, so Lolth wouldn't see the glint of gold in their depths. She lifted her Mother piece and squeezed hard, destroying it. The cut on her wrist opened, and her blood flowed. A drop of it fell on the Warrior piece, sizzled briefly in the hot flames that wreathed it, then vanished.
Eilistraee disappeared.
Lolth looked wildly around. Eilistraee was gone! She laughed a shrill, giddy peal of delight. "You concede?" she cried. "At last, the drow are…?"
Just a moment. Something was wrong. Eilistraee's realm should have disappeared with her. Yet it remained, just on the other side of the board. Forest, moonstone fruits, stars… Everything was there, except for the moon. It had vanished from the sky, as if…
Yes, that was it. The moon wasn't gone; it was just eclipsed. Still up in that sky, somewhere. Just as Eilistraee herself was still here… somewhere.
Lolth's eye fell on the Warrior piece. A pass of her hand over it, palm down, confirmed her suspicions. She could feel the loathsome moonlight hidden within. The Warrior still looked as it had, but that was just a disguise. The piece was no longer hers.