Windwalker - Elaine Cunningham [43]
"Human wizards?"
A stern glance from Qiluй stole the sneer from Liriel's face. "Do not underestimate this foe," the priestess cautioned. "Drow magic is powerful, but it is not the only magic. A small dagger that you do not anticipate will kill you more quickly than the sword you see."
Liriel nodded thoughtfully. "The ancient rune magic is very different from anything I learned in Menzoberranzan."
"Just so. This wizard is Merdrith, a reclusive, little-known wizard of considerable power who makes his home in the High Forest. The Dark Maiden's priestesses have reason to know and fear him. Gorlist, knowing Merdrith's hatred for Eilistraee's own, has persuaded him to Skullport. His magic seeks you even as we speak."
"Not the tunnels, not the surface," Fyodor repeated. "How, then, are we to travel to Rashemen?"
Qiluй turned her gaze to the warrior. "That is why I called you here. By the grace of Eilistraee, I can call moonbeams to take you to the borders of Rashemen. No farther can I send you-the witches who guard that land employ spells against such intrusion. My sister Sylune learned of such spells during her time among Rashemen's witches. We use similar enchantments here to ward our temple. Speaking of my sisters, I see that you have something that belongs to one of them."
Liriel removed the ear cuff and handed it over. "You can call moonbeams?"
"A spell granted Eilistraee's followers. Shall we begin?"
In response, Liriel held out her hand to Fyodor. Their fingers entwined. At a nod from Qiluй the warriors left the chamber, passing through unseen doors. The torches snuffed out abruptly. Darkness and silence ruled absolute.
The priestess began to sing, a soft haunting melody that was more like wind than music and that might well be lost on a night wind.
Soft white radiance filled the chamber as slender beams of moonlight streamed down from an unseen sky. The thick ceiling of soil and stone seemed to fade away, and motes of mundane dirt whirled and danced in the moonbeams like Stardust. In the center of this summoned magic, Qiluй danced.
The voice of the priestess-and the magic of the Dark Maiden – flowed through Liriel like strong wine. Almost without realizing it, she too began to sway and circle in time to the music.
Listen to the moonsong, whispered Qiluй's voice, mind to mind. Whatever land it touches sings with joy, and each song is unique. Find the song of Rashemen. Listen, and follow.
"And Fyodor?" Liriel asked aloud.
Your destiny and his are entwined. This he knows. You are the song his heart hears. Go, and he will follow.
The young drow reached out through magic's web, much as she had when she sought the great oak known as Yggdrasil's Child. Her senses caught the distant tune, a simple melody that seemed to follow the cadence of Fyodor's ancient tales. Liriel gave herself fully to the music, letting the silvery magic of Eilistraee flow through her swaying limbs.
A deep chill shimmered through her, stopping her in mid-whirl. Liriel froze, and for a moment she relieved the horror of the Abyss and those few moments when Hrolf's ship Elfmaid passed through Lolth's realm on its way to safety.
The memory passed, but the horror did not. Liriel stared in disbelief at the dark threads streaking down along the conjured moonbeams. Spiders the size of housecats dropped into the chamber and skittered off through the invisible doors and out into Qiluй's carefully warded sanctum.
Low, mocking laughter filled the chamber, echoes that welled up from unfathomable depths. Dark threads snapped together to form a web, which lowered slowly toward Liriel.
Mine, exulted the voice of the goddess-a terrible sound that mingled the shrieking of chill winds and the multitudinous voices of the dark-elven damned. This one I claim now. The rest we will take soon enough!
Qiluй shook off her moment of stunned inaction and seized the silver medallion bearing her holy symbol. A quick tug snapped the chain, and she held the disk aloft. Again she sang, and again she danced.
A soft haze of moonlight