Ascendancy of the Last - Lisa Smedman [120]
Halisstra had her back to Cavatina. She stared intently at something on the far side of the throne. Cavatina cautiously circled the room, keeping near the wall. A crouching figure came into view. Half the size of the hulking Halisstra, the creature had dull white eyes and skin covered in boils. So misshapen was it that its gender was impossible to determine. At first, Cavatina's mind insisted that this couldn't be Qiluй, that it was some blasphemous blend of drow and demon. But the "demon" held the Crescent Blade in its hands, and wore the amulet Laeral had described around its neck.
It was Qiluй.
A lump rose in Cavatina's throat as she beheld what the high priestess had become. Cavatina had been raised within Eilistraee's faith. Her earliest memories were of her mother singing the high priestess's praises. Centuries ago, as a girl, Qiluй had rekindled Eilistraee's faith from the ashes in which its spark had smoldered for millennia. She had conquered Ghaunadaur, established the Promenade over his Pit, and set up shrines across the length and breadth of Faerыn. But now the Promenade had fallen and Qiluй had been reduced to…
A tear trickled down Cavatina's cheek. She wiped it away. This wasn't the time for tears, but for action. It might not be her destiny to save Qiluй, but she could take Halisstra down. Not permanently-unless Lolth had abandoned her, Halisstra wouldn't die-but at least long enough for Laeral and the others to whisk Qiluй out of this foul chamber and attempt an exorcism. Cavatina would likely die in the battle she was about to undertake; her communion with Eilistraee had hinted of this. But that didn't matter. After the horrors she'd experienced during the fall of the Promenade, she was ready to dance at the goddess's side.
Halisstra seemed to have at last remembered whatever song she'd been attempting to play. Her clawed fingers settled into a rhythm, and the music became more melodic. Slowly, lest she make any noise, Cavatina drew the wooden sword. The fact that it didn't kill no longer mattered, since Halisstra couldn't die, anyway. It felt better to have a sword in her hand, even if it was only a wooden one. As the weapon cleared its sheath, Cavatina began the prayer that would send a bolt of twined moonlight and shadow through Halisstra's heart.
Halisstra ended her melody with a single, shrill note. The Crescent Blade suddenly shrank and transformed, becoming an assassin's strangle cord. Halisstra leaped down from her throne. As she reached for the transformed weapon, Cavatina unleashed her spell. Her moonbolt bored into Halisstra's broad back, sending her staggering.
Halisstra whirled, her face twisted with rage. Her eyes widened as she spotted the now-visible Cavatina. As Cavatina sang a second moonbolt into existence, Halisstra yanked the assassin's cord from Qiluй's hands and flicked it upward. The weapon transformed back into a sword once more. She raised it above her head with a manic grin. "Yours," she said, her eyes wild, "will be the first soul reaped. Cast aside your feeble goddess, and pay homage to the Lady Penitent!"
Cavatina hurled her second moonbolt. It slammed into Halisstra's chest, sending her staggering. Cavatina leaped in close, thrusting with the wooden sword. Halisstra grunted as the point of it entered her body.
"Surrender," Cavatina told her, "and I'll show mercy."
"Never," Halisstra hissed. She leaped back, unwounded- the wooden sword penetrated flesh, but left no mark-and lashed out with the Crescent Blade. Cavatina instinctively