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 crackling between his extended fingers. His lips parted, as if he were about to say something. Then he seemed to think better of it. Slowly, the magic faded from his hand.

Urz gave a howl of anguish, startling all three of them. "He's dead," he cried. Eyes closed, mouth a grimace, he pounded with his hands against the crystal floor until his hands were bloody. "He's… dead!"

"Who's dead, you idiot?" Valdar snapped.

Malvag, however, didn't have to ask. A chill slid into his gut like an ice-cold blade. He said a hurried prayer, seeking communion with his god.

"Vhaeraun?" he whispered, his mouth dry. "Are you there?"

Valdar stared at him, tense.

Urz continued to wail and beat the floor. "Dead!"

The answer came to Malvag at last, a strangely double-timbered voice, as if a male and female were speaking at once.

"I… am… here," it said, the voices blending into one by the final word.

Malvag felt his face pale. His legs no longer seemed willing to support him. He sagged, felt the points of crystals jab into his knees as the enormity of what he'd just done came down on his shoulders like a collapsing tunnel. That was Eilistraee who'd just spoken, not Vhaeraun. Instead of the Masked Lord absorbing her power into himself, the opposite had happened. Eilistraee was posing as Vhaeraun and answering his clerics' prayers, tainting them with moonfire, and there was only one way she could have done that.

By killing Vhaeraun.

Malvag tried to convey that to Valdar, but all that would come out was a dry croak. "Eilistraee… No use… Vhaeraun is… gone. We can't…" He gestured weakly at Q'arlynd. They could hurl all the spells they liked at the wizard, but he was under Eilistraee's protection-even if he didn't know it himself.

Valdar glanced at the still-howling Urz, then back at Malvag. "No!" he raged. The slender cleric summoned darkfire to his hand a second time-darkfire tainted with moonfire-then hurled it. Not at the cleric, as Malvag had expected, but at Malvag himself.

It sloughed off Malvag, just as it had the wizard. As the dark glare of it died down, Malvag noticed that Q'arlynd was gone. He must have teleported away. So had Valdar, it seemed, after hurling the darkfire. The cavern was empty save for Urz, who, by the sound of his hoarse cries, had been driven mad by the loss of his patron deity.

Everything Malvag had worked for was in ruin. The bond, strong as adamantine, that had allowed drow to cast high magic was broken. Not that it mattered anymore.

"It's true," Malvag said, answering a Valdar who was already gone. "Vhaeraun's dead. We helped Eilistraee kill him. I was a fool to think she wouldn't prevail within her own domain." He lowered his face into his hands-a mask that no longer held any power. Then his hands fell away. One brushed against the dagger that was sheathed at his hip.

Slowly, he drew it. He stared at the poison-coated blade for several long moments. There was no longer any god to claim his soul when it entered the Fugue Plain, but that suited Malvag just fine. The torments of the demons would be nothing compared to what he felt at that moment, and if Eilistraee tried to claim him, he'd spit in her face.

Touching the blade to his arm, he drew it across his wrist.

Q'arlynd staggered through the Promenade looking for a priestess, the mask that had been his disguise clenched in one hand. He was in the cavern where the lay worshipers lived-buildings reared up around him on either side-but the passageways between them were empty. Where was everyone? His face throbbed and his limbs felt leaden: the wristbow bolt's poison doing its work. He wasn't going to last much longer without a healing spell, but if he died there, Qilue would surely see to it that he was restored to life. She'd have to, in order to learn what had just happened.

Unless, of course, she simply had a necromancer speak with his corpse.

No, Q'arlynd thought. Qilue wouldn't do that. She'd want details-descriptive nuances the stagnant mind of a corpse couldn't provide, and even if she used a truth spell on him, Q'arlynd had the perfect excuse for his actions.