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"No. "A pause. "And even if they did, they wouldn't come back for us. Davoren will control them-and he hates you almost as much as he hates me."

" Why does he hate you so?"

Twilight did not reply.

"How do we escape?"Taslin asked.

"Occasionally, being polite works." Twilight said. "So I'm told, anyway."

" Then I shall speak to them, "said Taslin. " They may understand Common, atleast."The priestess addressed the nearest grimlock in the trade tongue. "We are not your enemies. Release us," she said. "Appease your vile god some other way."

Something warm and sticky struck her cheek, and the creature growled in its own guttural speech, which came through her earring as Elvish. "Silence, drow."

"I confess, my suggestion was something of a jest," said Twilight.

Taslin ignored the spittle running down her face. "Come to think ofit, they probably can't see color."

"Ithilnin!Ithilnin karanok!Ithilnin!" The chant only redoubled in volume.

"That's it, then," Twilight said. "Can't go wrong with pretty lasses on the altar."

"You are so young." Taslin shook her head. "Do you take nothing seriously?"

"Not if I can help it." The tremor in her voice didn't display calm, though. "In the face of inescapable death, if you haven't got your sense of humor, what have you got? "

Taslin closed her eyes in silent acquiescence, and she forced an ironic smile, even though she felt like crying. She'd just learned something about her companion-not from her words, but form how she had spoken.

Fear. Twilight was afraid.

During the silence that followed, Twilight took the opportunity to explore their surroundings, moving only her eyes.

The grimlocks carried them through a plain, if large, cavern. With closer scrutiny, however, Twilight realized it was some sort of settlement. The city-if such it could be called-was completely unlit. If not for her darksight, she would have observed none of it.

Three dozen or so houses carved out of the rock adorned the sides of the cavern, stacked two, three, even four high. A series of ladders led to each house, and grimlocks stood-dead silent-outside each door, their arms held aloft in recognition. Male and female they stood, Twilight guessed, along with children. She might have found it charming if the situation hadn't been so dire, and if they weren't so eyeless. The unnerving, empty gazes felt like death itself.

In front of the window or door of each house hung several rods on a rope that Twilight took for a crude wind chime, though there was no wind underground. She was proven wrong, however, when one of the creatures reached up and tapped the contraption. Its three reeds spun, producing a series of whistles that rippled through the air, perking up ears and turning heads.

A means of producing sound-thus making them able to find their way-without opening theit mouths, Twilight thought. How practical.

The grimlock leading the ritual procession held his arms aloft and stopped. Silence fell and all eyes in the city-all four of them-went to his crude robes, horned headpiece, and gnarled staff. Twilight noted that the leader wore both of the elves' swords, though none of their other equipment had been taken.

She also couldn't help but note that he wore a particularly shiny ring on his finger, a plain gold band that looked rather familiar. Twilight's eyes narrowed. A coincidence?

Twilight felt the reassuring pressure of her hidden amulet against her collarbone. Its power would prevent anyone from noticing it who wasn't specifically looking. Ordinarily, Twilight would be comforted, but part of her wanted the amulet off so any searchers would see her peril and come to her aid. And of course, her hands were tied.

Ironic, she thought. How like her lord and master to trick her to her death.

Indicating the prisoners, the grimlock priest uttered a series of grunts and hoots, casting his staff back and forth as though fighting invisible attackers. When he was done, the grimlocks of the city hooted and growled in agreement.

"What