Sacrifice of the Widow_ Lady Penitent - Lisa Smedman [66]
“By all that’s holy,” Cavatina whispered.
“It’s dancing.” The creature spun and splashed, arms raised above its head, spider legs drumming against its chest in time with the dance. Once again, it blasphemed Eilistraee. Its drow hands formed the goddess’s sacred circle above its head. Its eyes were closed, and it seemed oblivious to Cavatina’s presence. A harsh song came from its lips. Several words were missing, others were roughly abbreviated, as if choked off in mid-syllable. The melody was subtly wrong, like a chord with one note a half-tone off, but even so, Cavatina recognized it.
Eilistraee’s sacred Evensong.
Cavatina was outraged. “What are you doing?” she shouted.
The creature slowed. Lowered its hands. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“You profane our holy song.”
“I sing it as I learned it.”
Cavatina blinked. “But you’re not … You can’t be one of Eilistraee’s worshipers.”
“I was.”
Cavatina gripped her sword so hard her hand hurt. Mute with horror, she shook her head.
“Oh, yes,” the creature said, its face lit from below by the sickly green glow. “I once danced in the sacred grove. I rose from the Cave of Rebirth, sang the song, and took up the sword.”
Cavatina felt numb with shock. “You … were one of the Redeemed? A priestess?”
The creature nodded.
“But … but how …”
“I was weak. Lolth punished me. I was … transformed.”
Cavatina allowed herself to drift a little lower, but she was careful not to get too close to the sickstone. The glow must have been affecting the creature. Its legs were visibly trembling, sending tiny ripples through the filthy water.
“And now you want to be a drow again?” Cavatina guessed.
The creature gave a bitter laugh. “If only it were that simple.”
Cavatina lowered her sword—but only slightly. “Sing with me,” she said. “Pray for Eilistraee’s aid.”
“I can’t. Every time I try, my throat fills with spiders and I choke.”
“A curse,” Cavatina whispered. Part of her wondered if that wasn’t a ruse to draw her closer, but the teachings of Eilistraee were clear. Mercy had to be extended to those who pleaded for it, and the creature, in its own unique way, was all but begging. Cavatina reluctantly extended her hand. “Curses can be removed. Let me—”
The creature reared back, water sloshing around its ankles. “Weren’t you listening?” it howled. “This isn’t just a curse, I’ve been permanently transformed. Nothing—nothing!—can redeem me now.”
Cavatina’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes suddenly stung. She could feel the cursed priestess’s anguish as if it were her own. She suddenly understood why the creature had left a trail for her to follow, why it hadn’t simply fled. She wanted Cavatina to end its misery, and—Cavatina stared at the spot where the singing sword had pierced its chest, a spot where not even a scar remained—Cavatina had failed her.
As if hearing her thoughts, the creature looked up. “You’re powerful,” she said. “I can sense that about you. I thought you might have a spell that could end this, but you’re as much of a disappointment as Eilistraee was.”
“Don’t say that,” Cavatina gasped, shocked.
The creature laughed. “Why should I stay my tongue?” it mocked. “Will Eilistraee punish me? She’s already punished me enough for my failure. She’s abandoned me.”
“No, she hasn’t,” Cavatina said fiercely. “As long as you hold her song in your heart, Eilistraee is with you still.”
“No, she isn’t,” the creature spat back. “Once I was her champion. Now I’m her greatest disappointment. She abandoned me—and Lolth claimed me.”
Cavatina stared down at the creature. The face was vaguely familiar, despite its elongated shape and bestial spider fangs. She tried to imagine the creature with