Ascendancy of the Last - Lisa Smedman [126]
"But we're blind!" Eldrinn blurted. "Helpless as surface elves. How can we possibly survive back in Sshamath?"
"We won't be returning there," Seldszar said. "Preparations have been made. The College of Divination is already relocating as we speak; the necessity of fueling our casting with magical items provided an excellent screen for getting out much of our wealth. We're going to start afresh on the surface, in the City of Hope. The College of Ancient Arcana will do the same. We'll be welcome, there. The sharn have promised me that."
Q'arlynd had no idea who the sharn were-but he had the feeling he was about to find out.
"What about the others?" Alexa asked. "In Sshamath… and elsewhere? Have all of the drow changed?"
Not all, the ancestors told Q'arlynd. Only those few without taint. Miyeritari, such as yourselves, and those who follow the dance. By Eilistraee's grace, they too will have transformed.
Q'arlynd glanced at his House insignia, then up at the changed moon. "Are you certain about that?"
Before his ancestors could answer, he heard the whisper of a thrown dagger. He grunted as it slammed into the back of his neck.
CHAPTER 13
Halisstra lifted the blood-smeared Crescent Blade so Eilistraee could see it. "Wendonai said you would come. He said you couldn't bear to lose your high priestess." She smirked. "He was right."
"I came for another reason," the goddess replied. "To offer you redemption. Your heart aches for it." She held out a hand. "Reach for it!"
Swift as a hunting spider, Halisstra struck. The Crescent Blade flashed, and fingertips fell. They pattered to the floor beside the decapitated Darksong Knight.
Eilistraee's eyes blazed red. A bolt of braided light and shadow burst from her forehead and slammed into Halisstra's chest, rocking Halisstra back. The pain was intense, but it lasted only a heartbeat. Halisstra shook it off and menaced the other goddess with her weapon.
Eilistraee, however, didn't press her attack. She squeezed her hand shut and sang. A nimbus of moonlight played around her fist, and the blood flow halted as her wounds sealed shut. When she opened her hand again, however, the fingers were shorter than they had been.
Once again, the hand extended. "Come. Rejoin my dance."
Halisstra swayed forward-then angrily shook off the enchantment the other goddess had tried to ensnare her with. This time, she told herself, she would be stronger. She wouldn't kneel, wouldn't grovel. Not like she had before Lolth.
"I don't need your redemption," she snapped. "I'm stronger than you."
In one sense, it was true. Though Eilistraee glowed with an unearthly light, Halisstra wasn't blinded by it. She didn't wince and fumble about like a mortal drow. And though the high priestess's body had enlarged when the goddess stepped into it, Halisstra still stood head and shoulders taller. Eilistraee was the weak one, not her. Halisstra was stronger, swifter, and armed with the Crescent Blade. The other goddess was frightened of her. She didn't dare attack Halisstra.
"You can't kill me," Halisstra taunted. "If you could, you would have done it already."
"Are you certain of that?" A glint of blue danced in Eilistraee's moonstone eyes. She pointed at Halisstra's chest. "It looks as though Lolth is no longer healing you."
Halisstra glanced down. It was true. Black, tarry blood seeped from the wound Eilistraee's magic had bored-a wound that should have closed by now. That frightened her, more than she cared to admit. If she died, her soul would fly back to the Demonweb Pits. Back to Lolth's cruel embrace.
"I don't need Lolth!" Halisstra shouted. "I'm a demigod!"
"Then why do you pretend to be Lolth's champion?" Eilistraee whirled, her hair lifting like a skirt. When it settled again, tiny knots were in it. Inside each, a tiny figure writhed. "That's what these priestesses thought, wasn't it? They worshiped you as Lolth's champion, not as a goddess in your own right." She whirled again, and the knots disappeared. "And now they've gone to face Lolth's