Ascendancy of the Last - Lisa Smedman [16]
"Thank… you," he gasped.
"Don't thank me," Leliana told him, wishing she could have intervened sooner-before he'd lost his eyes. "It's Eilistraee who saved your life." She touched his arm. "Can you stand?"
"I think so."
She helped him to his feet. He was remarkably steady, considering what he'd just been through. He moved with a certainty that suggested he'd been trained in blind fighting. He cocked his head, listening, as Leliana retrieved her singing sword. It lay next to the ooze's crusted remains. Even through the leather-wrapped hilt, the weapon felt hot. She noted the warp the creature's heat had left in the blade. It would no longer fit in her scabbard.
"What now?" Naxil asked.
"We press on," Leliana told him. She described for him what he couldn't see. "The ooze retreated back into the crevice before it died, and it's formed a natural bridge across the gap. As soon as it's cool enough, we can cross."
He nodded and touched his face. "My mask?"
"Burned."
His hand fell away. He turned his head, but she saw his stricken look just the same.
She took his hand and placed it on her shoulder. "We need to get moving," she said softly. "Get back to the Promenade and report what we've seen down here."
"The oozes," Naxil said grimly. "Ghaunadaur's minions. They're escaping from the Pit."
Leliana shuddered. "Let's pray the Ancient One isn't next."
CHAPTER 3
Cavatina made her way through the Hall of the Priestesses, a cavern filled with a soft blue-white light emanating from lichens on its ceiling and walls. Glowballs-off-white hemispheres that waxed and waned with the moon's cycles-studded the buildings. The combined illumination made the cavern as bright as a moonlit night in the World Above.
The buildings she passed-originally part of a Netherese outpost in the Underdark-had lain buried in rubble for seventeen centuries before Qiluй and her companions excavated them and made them part of the Promenade. Constructed in terraced layers like a series of blocks stacked largest to smallest, the buildings were four stories high. Much of their original decoration had been smashed when the magic supporting the ceiling had dissipated at the time of Netheril's fall, but here and there Cavatina saw the grooves of what had once been a fluted column, or fragments of the friezes that had once adorned every wall.
Nearly two and a half decades of labor by Eilistraee's faithful had restored the buildings to a usable state, here and elsewhere in the Promenade. Now each bore the goddess's symbol above its front door: a silver long sword, set point-upright against the circle of a full moon haloed with streaks of white.
Priestesses and lay worshipers alike strode the streets, the former on their way to services in the Cavern of Song, the latter hurrying about their errands. Most of the priestesses were drow; only a handful were drawn from the elven races of the World Above. But the lay worshipers came from a multitude of races. Many had been rescued from the holds of slave ships, or from the flesh markets of Skullport. Each had turned, in gratitude, to the Dark Maiden's faith. The other priestesses saluted Cavatina, while the lay worshipers bowed low. Awed whispers followed in her wake.
Cavatina spotted a familiar face: Meryl, Qiluй's halfling cook. The little female with the mop of tangled gray hair padded along on bare feet to the high priestess's house, a basket tucked under one arm. Cavatina altered course so their paths would cross.
Meryl's wrinkled face creased in a grin as she spotted the Darksong Knight. "Hello, Cavatina! It's been a while."
Cavatina arched an eyebrow. " 'Cavatina?' " she echoed. "Not, 'Most Esteemed Darksong Knight, Slayer of Selvetarm?' " she continued in a teasing voice.
Meryl laughed and waved a hand. "Yes, yes, that too. It's just hard to remember, sometimes. I still see, when I look at you, the babe Jetel danced with in her arms. Though"-she craned her neck, looking up-"you get taller and skinnier each time