Ascendancy of the Last - Lisa Smedman [58]
Once the Promenade was theirs, converts would be drawn from across Faerыn to a reinvigorated faith. And those of Eilistraee's priestesses who managed to survive would reap the bitter fruit of their misplaced trust. The females would be the ones given a choice, this time around: to don Vhaeraun's mask, and worship in silence and shadow, or to die by Vhaeraun's sword.
That had been the plan-within-a-plan. And it had been a good one, needing only subterfuge and determination to see it through-until oozes and slimes had come boiling up out of the lake. Surely Vhaeraun didn't intend to fill the Promenade with such filth! It would take an army to scour the temple clean, after that.
Masked… Lord, Kвras silently prayed, the honorific feeling out of place after nearly four years of praying to the Masked Lady. Your servant seeks counsel. Is it your will we continue?
No answer came.
Kвras stood, sweating. The future of his faith hung upon what happened next. Upon what he decided next.
As he hesitated near the doorway, listening to the shouts of excitement echoing through the keep, a voice sang into his mind. Qiluй's voice! Clear as a tolling bell, the high priestess called to her spies. It is time to begin the dance. Are you ready?
The timing of the message couldn't be mere coincidence. The Masked Lord had to know what was happening, down here in Llurth Dreir. He obviously had confidence in Kвras-confidence enough to allow Qiluй to set everything in motion, spawning or no.
Kвras squared his shoulders. The Masked Lord was depending upon him.
I stand ready, Lady Qiluй, he thought back. Expect the first group in moments.
Begin, then. And may Eilistraee guide your steps. Her voice faded from his mind.
Kвras pulled the lump of amber from his pocket and walked to the nearest column, his feet slipping in the green sludge coating the floor. He had to force his body to move in that direction; the closer he got to the altar, the more difficult it became. He could feel the Ancient One's presence, terrible and grim, evil beyond words. Forcing himself against it bent him almost double.
He lifted the amber to the column and waited. Ready.
He heard shouts, drawing nearer: Shi'drin's voice, urging the others back to the altar room. Overlaying them was a sound that sent shivers down his spine-the sound of oozes sliding over stone.
Kвras pressed the amber to the column. A hole opened. "Quickly, brethren!" he cried. "Come and see! One of the columns has opened. It will lead us to the Pit of Ghaunadaur!"
* * * * *
Qiluй strode through the Cavern of Song, past the faithful who gave voice to Eilistraee's eternal hymn. Those in her way took a quick step back as she passed, giving her room to pass by. One faltered in her hymn. Qiluй strode on, not bothering to admonish her.
Qiluй fumed. How had this happened? She'd been so careful! Yet somehow, Cavatina had figured out that a demon was inside the Crescent Blade-not only that, but which one. She should have expected that, from the Darksong Knight. She'd been foolish to think she could keep Wendonai hidden, especially from the one who had "killed" him.
She wished she could tell her priestesses that her strange behavior was just a charade, but she couldn't-not without also telling Wendonai, since he could see and hear everything within range of the Crescent Blade, including her otherwise silent mental communications. Fortunately, by Mystra's grace, he wasn't privy to her thoughts.
Qiluй! Wendonai bellowed. He'd learned, early on, that calling her name forced her