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“I can’t feel them,” he said. He extended his hands slightly. “Could you—”

“Of course.”

Malvag took the wizard’s hands in his own and whispered a prayer. He felt the rush of power that was the Masked Lord’s reply course through him as the fingers healed. When he released Q’arlynd’s hands, silver-white motes danced upon the wizard’s dark skin.

Malvag jerked his hands away. What was that?

Valdar stared at the wizard’s hands. “Moonfire,” he gasped.

The wizard, sensing the knife-edge in Valdar’s tone, held his hands perfectly still as the sparkles slowly faded.

“If this is moonfire, it’s not my doing,” he said. “I’m a wizard, not a cleric.”

Valdar stood just to Malvag’s left, tense as a cocked wristbow. He glanced sidelong at Malvag. One hand was behind his back, where the wizard wouldn’t see it.

Has he turned back to Eilistraee? Should we kill him?

Malvag took a deep breath. By Vhaeraun’s holy mask, was it really going to unravel so quickly? “No,” he said aloud. He turned. “You touched his mind, Valdar, and you know he’s no traitor. He’s one of us, now.”

“There’s a simple explanation for what just happened, Valdar,” the wizard added. “We just opened a gate to Eilistraee’s domain. There’s certain to be lingering effects from that.”

Valdar relaxed. Slightly.

The wizard smiled and spread his hands. “What’s more, I could easily have teleported away just now—which would be the logical thing for me to do, if I was a traitor—but I’m still here with you.” He shook his head, an exasperated expression on his face. “We just cast high magic. Drow, casting high magic, perhaps for the first time. Do you honestly think I’d turn my back on that kind of power?”

Malvag answered, before Valdar could, “Of course not.”

Abruptly, the wizard turned and strode to where Urz lay. He touched the fallen Nightshadow and spoke a word. “There. I’ve just turned Urz back to flesh and blood. He is, however, unconscious. Looks like he took a nasty hit on the head when he fell—but I’m sure your healing magic can deal with it.” His lips quirked slightly. “Just be sure, when he wakes up again, to let him know I’m on your side. No hard feelings, I hope.”

Malvag nodded at Urz’s body. “Do it,” he told Valdar.

The pink-eyed drow cocked an eyebrow. “Very well.” He kneeled beside Urz, put a hand to the dead male’s chest, and began a prayer. His other hand was raised to his mouth, hiding it.

Malvag, watching, reflected on how odd it was to see a fellow cleric casting magic bare-faced. He resisted the urge to cover his own mouth with a hand. Even in the company of other clerics, going without a mask felt like being naked.

A low groan came from Urz’s lips as Valdar completed his prayer. Urz stirred—and his body was limned in a haze of silver-white light. Valdar reeled.

“More moonfire! The wizard is doing it!” He raised his wrist-crossbow.

“Valdar, stop!” Malvag shouted.

The crossbow thrummed. The wizard jumped back but not quickly enough. The bolt sliced a bright red line through the flesh of his cheek. He returned Valdar’s attack with a flick of his fingers, sending a bolt of magical energy back at the slender male. Valdar grunted as it bored into his chest and began a prayer, one that would summon enough darkfire to incinerate the wizard on the spot.

“Stop it!” Malvag cried. “Both of you. There’s got to be another explanation!”

Urz sat up, holding his head. The silver-white glow had faded from his skin.

Darkfire raced from Valdar’s hand across the cavern, but instead of burning the wizard, it swirled harmlessly around him. Within the dark flames were flecks of white. More moonfire. Valdar gaped at his hand, a shocked look on his face.

“How did he …?”

Malvag stared at Q’arlynd and Valdar, worried. That was moonfire, within the darkfire—something that should have been impossible. And it hadn’t just appeared when the spell had struck Q’arlynd, it had come straight out of Valdar’s hand at the same time the darkfire did. Had opening a gate to Eilistraee’s domain somehow corrupted their magic?

The wizard had halted in mid-casting, magical energy