"Mistress," he said, bowing before the one in charge.

"It's 'Lady,' " she answered, "not 'Mistress.'"

Q'arlynd bowed still deeper. "Lady."

"I'd prefer you called me by name: Leliana."

"Leliana," Q'arlynd dutifully murmured.

A testy note crept into Leliana's voice. "And look me in the eye, will you? I told you before, we do things differently here. You don't have to grovel, just because you're male."

Q'arlynd straightened. "As you-" He'd been about to say "command" but quickly amended that. "As you wish." He grinned. "Old habits…" he added with a shrug. Then he turned his expression serious again. "You said you knew my sister Halisstra. Knew," he repeated. He braced himself for bad news. "Is she dead?"

Rowaan's eyes widened. "This is Halisstra's brother?"

Q'arlynd noted her tone. Halisstra had achieved some status up on the surface, it seemed.

Leliana glanced away. She seemed to be carefully composing her reply. "There's a slim chance your sister is alive," she said at last.

"But you don't think so," Q'arlynd finished for her.

"No."

"There's always hope," Rowaan insisted. "Slim as the new moon, maybe, but…" her voice trailed off.

Leliana made no comment.

"What happened to her?" Q'arlynd asked.

"You weren't told?"

Q'arlynd realized that Leliana must have been wondering why the priestess who "gave" him the sword-token hadn't already answered any questions he might have about Halisstra.

He shrugged and said, "Things were… a bit rushed in Ched Nasad. There wasn't much time for talk."

Flinderspeld, thankfully, kept his expression neutral. The deep gnome had been schooled well. He carefully noted-but didn't react to-his master's odd remarks.

Q'arlynd gave the priestesses his best mournful look and continued, "It's been three years since I've seen Halisstra. She disappeared when our city fell, during Lolth's Silence. All this time, I've been wondering if my sister still lived, or…" He made a small, choked sound, as if struggling to contain his emotions.

Leliana's expression at last softened.

"Tell me what happened to her," Q'arlynd begged the two priestesses. "Don't hold anything back-tell me everything."

They did.

Halisstra, it seemed, had indeed converted to Eilistraee's faith. Not only that, but she'd made quite a name for herself. Shortly after her "redemption," as the priestesses called it, Halisstra had undertaken a pilgrimage to recover an artifact sacred to Eilistraee-a sword known as the Crescent Blade. That weapon in hand, she'd set out for the Abyss during Lolth's Silence with two other priestesses to-and Q'arlynd reflexively shivered-try to kill the Queen of the Demonweb Pits with that magical sword.

What hubris! A mortal slaying a god! Even so, Leliana and Rowaan assured him that not only was it possible, but that it had almost come to pass. Halisstra, however, had been slain on the very doorstep of the Demonweb Pits by one of Lolth's faithful. Shortly afterward, Lolth's Silence had ended. Halisstra had failed in her quest.

Q'arlynd recognized his sister's killer at once from her description. "Danifae," he said.

Leliana paused. "You knew her?"

Q'arlynd nodded. "She was my sister's battle-captive. What you've just told me doesn't surprise me. Danifae was… treacherous."

An understatement, that. Treachery was something all drow expected of one another, especially of their battle-captives. Danifae, however, took the word to new levels. A seductress whose talents in that regard were near legendary, Danifae combined her exquisite beauty with utter ruthlessness. For years, Q'arlynd had observed the resentment that smoldered in Danifae's eyes each time his sister's back was turned, yet the battle-captive had actually succeeded in convincing Halisstra that she was a friend. All the while, Danifae had been working her way through the males-and females-of House Melarn, trying to seduce one of them into killing Halisstra. Danifae had eventually turned her lascivious attentions to Q'arlynd, hoping to enlist his aid in removing the magical Binding that compelled her loyalty to Halisstra, so she could kill her mistress herself.

Thinking back to that time, Q'arlynd shook his head. Of all of the children of Drisinil Melarn, he would have been the last one to slide a dagger into Halisstra's back. Not because he cared for her, but because of what she'd done.

He resisted the urge to touch a finger to his nose, to hide the smile that threatened. As a boy, he'd been injured in a riding accident. He'd tumbled from his lizard and fallen only a short distance to the street below-no more than a dozen paces-but it had happened so quickly there hadn't been time to activate his House insignia. He'd landed face-first, smashing his face against stone. He'd been only a novice wizard then-a clumsy oaf who wasn't worth wasting magical healing on, in the opinion of Matron Melarn, but Halisstra had secretly healed him. She'd had to do it without leaving any evidence, so she'd cast her spell selectively, leaving his black eyes and broken nose untouched. Afterward, Q'arlynd had expected his sister to demand something of him in return. He'd prepared himself for a lifetime spent in thrall to her, but Halisstra had demanded nothing.

She'd healed him, he later realized, out of simple pity and something more. Affection. Something that was as rare among drow siblings as a spider that didn't bite.

It had been a startling revelation. Q'arlynd had never realized that a female could be soft, especially one sworn to serve Lolth.

From that point on, he'd done everything he could to ensure that Halisstra would survive long enough to become House Melarn's next matron mother. He'd arranged for her introduction to the bard who had taught her bae'qeshel magic, and he had eliminated her rivals. Through his careful planning, he had all but ensured that Halisstra would be the next in succession to House Melarn's highest post-thus ensuring himself a position as her House wizard, the power behind that throne.

Then the Silence came, and it had all fallen apart-literally-when the city fell.

With a mental wrench, he brought himself back to the present. "Were you the two who accompanied my sister into the Abyss?" he asked. "Did you see her die?"

Leliana shook her head. "She was accompanied by Feliane and Uluyara-two priestesses who also died on that quest. I did see your sister's death. I aided Lady Qilue with her scrying. I could see, over her shoulder, the events as they unfolded in the font."

Q'arlynd carefully noted the name and title, Lady Qilue-probably a high priestess, if she was capable of getting clear images out of a scrying into the Abyss.

"Describe Halisstra's death for me," Q'arlynd said.

Leliana did, in hushed tones, as if Q'arlynd were a stranger to violent death. Halisstra had been felled by a blow to the head-a blow from Danifae's morningstar. There was little hope that Halisstra had survived the blow, she added.

Unless…

Hearing her hesitation, Q'arlynd pressed Leliana for more. She told him their high priestess had been attempting to resurrect Halisstra at the moment that the scrying was lost. Shortly afterward, Qilue had communed with their goddess. The high priestess had not divulged Eilistraee's words to anyone, but she had let one fact slip out. The goddess, it seemed, had spoken of Halisstra in the present tense, as one would refer to someone who was still alive.

Q'arlynd took it all in without betraying any emotion. He was too much of a realist to expect that Halisstra had benefited from the last-minute spell-or even if she had, that she'd been able to escape the Demonweb Pits, which meant that his quest to find his sister was probably a futile one.

He sighed. It seemed he would have to return to the drudgery of rooting through the ruins of Ched Nasad, and tedious years of servitude to House Teh'Kinrellz.