Yes, there were definite possibilities in Eilistraee, concluded Araushnee slyly. She doubted the girl could be induced to strike openly against Corellon, for Eilistraee adored her father. But she was young, and her very naivete could be turned into a potent weapon against the elf lord. And although Araushnee needed allies, she also needed scapegoats. One way or another, Eilistraee would serve.
The goddess slipped an arm around her daughter's waist. "You are right, my little raven," she said with rare warmth. "It is far past time that we hunted together. I have a plan. Listen, and tell me if it pleases you…"
Days are long in Olympus, longer than the turning of years upon some worlds, but to Araushnee this one seemed far too short. The morning passed in a blur of activity. First came the drudgery of traipsing through the forest with Eilistraee, learning her daughter's skills and habits-and plotting ways to turn this knowledge against the girl.
Her other child, her son Vhaeraun, also had a part to play, and Araushnee spent no little time schooling him in his role. This proved to be a difficult task, considering that the entire Seldarine was celebrating the dual victories of Corellon Larethian. Avoiding several score of celebrating elven deities, even in a place as vast as Arvandor, proved to be no easy matter. Nor was it easy to hold Vhaeraun's attention: Many a young goddess-and one or two of the elder powers as well-urged the handsome young god to join in the merriment.
At highsun, Araushnee finally left Vhaeraun to his revels. She sought out Corellon, for he might wonder if she did not, and spent the brightest hours of the day in conversation and dalliance. But the time she passed in the elf lord's presence sorely taxed her. Playing the loving consort had never before been a burden to Araushnee, but there was much yet undone, and it was difficult for her to speak sweet blandishments and tell witty stories while her mind whirled with the details of her plot. Finally she was able to slip away, laughingly claiming that she had been greedy in taking so much of his time as her own-subtly reminding him that others waited to celebrate with him. It was a powerful ploy, for all the elves save perhaps Araushnee herself valued the community of their sister and brother gods above all other things. She had places to go, and deeds best done when there were no eyes to witness them.
Seldom did the gods of the Seldarine travel from Arvandor, except to tend the needs and nurture the arts of their elven children. But on this long afternoon Araushnee traveled to many strange and dire places, seeking out warriors for the battle that would come all too soon. The elves were an ancient people, nearly as old as the gods from whom they had sprung, and many creatures envied and hated them. To the gods of all these folk-the orcs and ogres, the goblinkin, hobgoblins, bugbears, the evil dragons, creatures of the sky and the deepest seas, even beings from the elemental planes-Araushnee carried her seeds of war. She did not appear as herself, for to travel in elven form would be courting instant death, or, at the very least, almost ensuring the eventual discovery of her plot by the Seldarine. For this day's purpose, Araushnee took on a new and lethal form, one suited to her talents, yet one that dire gods and denizens could appreciate.
The sun was setting upon the elven forest when Araushnee returned to Olympus, well satisfied with her efforts. Her contentment vanished, however, when she found a visitor awaiting her in her own home.
The translucent form of Sehanine Moonbow strode about the entrance hall in great agitation. She stopped her pacing when Araushnee entered, and stabbed a still-hazy finger in the dark goddess's direction.
"I name you, Araushnee, traitor to the Seldarine, conspirator with orcs and worse," she proclaimed in her silvery voice.
A tendril of worry snaked into Araushnee's mind. What did the moon goddess know? And more importantly, was Sehanine merely speaking jealousy-induced suspicions, or did she possess damaging proof of Araushnee's perfidy?
She folded her arms and regarded the shadowy goddess. "That is a serious accusation," she said coldly. "A dangerous one, too, considering that you are, shall we say, not quite yourself?"
The goddess of moon magic ignored the threat. From the folds of her gown she produced a familiar object-a padded sheath, made from finest silk and worked with brilliantly colored threads. Upon it was an intricate tapestry that depicted the gods at play in their elven forest. A matchless example of the weaver's art, the scene was barded about with runes of warding and protection such as only an elven goddess might fashion. Araushnee's heart thudded painfully as she recognized the enchanted sheath.
"This is your work, is it not? No one else in all of Arvandor could create so wondrous a weave," Sehanine said, with no thought of flattery.
Araushnee tossed back her head. "That makes me an artist, not a traitor. If you have something else to say, speak quickly and then get you gone."
"When did you weave this tapestry? When were the magic of these runes released?"
The dark goddess brow furrowed as she pondered the strange questions. The runes and wardings were similar to those that gave protection from attack. Corellon, of course, had fought Gruumsh throughout the previous night. And come to think of it, Araushnee did most of the work during the cool hours after midnight, when the moon was bright…
Her scarlet eyes widened as understanding came. She had worked when the moon was bright and when Sehanine's power was at its height.
"You sensed the magic in the tapestry was wrong. You knew it-certainly you knew it, for I swear that the very moonlight carries night-born secrets to you-yet you let your lord go into battle wearing a token that condemned him to failure. If I am traitor, then so also are you!"
Sehanine shook her head. "I felt your animosity, that much is true, but I thought it was for me alone. Only when Gruumsh's attack unleashed your curse did I understand. Before the moon rose, when I was too weak to act, the orc shattered my lord's sword and gravely wounded him."
"And you, meddling bitch that you are, simply had to pick up the pieces," Araushnee said angrily. "You took the sheath from him, didn't you?"
"If I had not, would he even now be safe in Arvandor?"
Araushnee hissed with rage and frustration. The goddess of moonlight was also the goddess of mysteries. It seemed she was as good at unraveling them as she was at creating them. And Sehanine was powerful-far more powerful than Araushnee. Or, more precisely, she would be, when the moon was high. Even now, with sunset still staining the skies over Arvandor, Sehanine's glassy form was swiftly taking on substance and power. Araushnee had to act now or all would be lost.
Flinging out both hands, the dark goddess let the full force of her wrath and jealousy fuel the magic that poured from her fingertips. Malevolent power spun at the moon goddess in silky threads. Instantly Sehanine was enmeshed in a web far stronger than that which had stopped the charge of mighty Gruumsh One-Eye.
But this was not enough for Araushnee. Her rage stirred a miniature tempest, a wind that howled and raced along the walls of the hall until it formed a whirling cloud. The whirlwind caught the struggling moon goddess and tossed her into the very heart of the tiny maelstrom.
This was precisely what Araushnee needed. Again she lifted her hands, and again threads of magic darted toward her rival. The wind seized them, spun them, wrapped them tightly around Sehanine until the goddess was as tightly and thoroughly cocooned as an unawakened butterfly.