The webs fell silent for a moment. Halisstra frowned. "T'lar? Are you still there?"

I do not believe the one who calls himself Q'arlynd Melarn to be an imposter, Lady Penitent, T'lar sang back. He told the Conclave he had a sister who was a bae'qeshel bard-a sister who died. He said her name was Halisstra Melarn.

"Halisstra!" Halisstra howled. She broke into shrill laughter. "She's Halisstra no more. She's-" Suddenly realizing what she was saying, she snapped her mouth shut. Her spider legs drummed against her chest; She forced them still with an effort. "Describe this wizard," she ordered.

T'lar did.

The description fit. It was Q'arlynd. Halisstra shook her head, wondering how he'd managed to escape the golem. Not to mention getting crushed by the stones of a falling city.

There is one thing more, Lady Penitent. Q'arlynd Melarn has taken Eilistraee as his patron.

Halisstra's eyebrows rose. "He has? How dare he!"

He refuses to repent.

Halisstra's lips curled in a sneer.

Lady? T'lar's voice asked. What is your will?

Halisstra clenched her fists; her claws dug into flesh. "If he is Eilistraee's," she said slowly, "he must die. Kill him."

It will be my pleasure.

And his pain, Halisstra thought grimly. She laughed at her own joke.

The webs in her throne vibrated, shaking off the last drops of the dead priestess's blood.

CHAPTER 8

Cavatina startled at Qilue's message. "A new high priestess?"

Leliana's head lifted sharply. She'd been in Reverie, her sword across her knees and her head bowed. "What's happened? Has Eilistraee spoken to you?"

"Not Eilistraee-Qilue." Cavatina repeated the sending she'd just received.

"Was it Qilue?" Leliana looked nervously around. "Or another of the demon's tricks?"

"I've no idea." Cavatina rubbed her forehead. Was it just her, or had the world grown heavier, of late? "I'm not certain about anything anymore."

Leliana said nothing.

Cavatina realized the other priestess had been looking for strength, for leadership-for the Slayer of Selvetarm to come up with a way out of here.

Cavatina wished she could help. Yet there seemed little she could do. She squinted against the green glow that filled the chamber. The magical barrier resembled an overbright Faerzress; she supposed it might very well be. It was difficult to see through it, to the cavern's stone walls. If Cavatina had been a wizard or a druid, she might have bored a hole through that stone with magic, or transmuted the stone to mud. Then she and Leliana could have dug their way out with their bare hands, just like a-

Cavatina gasped. That was it! They couldn't dig through solid stone, but there were creatures that could. She thought back to those Karas had listed when they'd planned their assault on the Acropolis. A purple worm would be too dangerous-it might swallow Leliana and Cavatina whole. An umber hulk was too volatile to control. Rather than dig, it would do its best to claw them to pieces. Delvers, however, were generally docile creatures. And-she smiled as her eye fell on the gilded pedestal-they were drawn to metal. Especially gold.

None were creatures that prayers would ordinarily summon, but with Eilistraee's blessing-with a miracle-it might be possible. Cavatina squared her shoulders. There was only one way to find out if it were possible.

She outlined her plan to Leliana. The other priestess nodded. "Do you really think it will work?"

"Eilistraee grant that it does."

They dragged the pedestal across the chamber and leaned it against the fused door. At Cavatina's nod, each lifted her holy symbol and walked in a slowly widening spiral, singing her prayer. Cavatina reached out with her mind to the celestial realm. Her mind's eye ranged over a host of creatures-lesser animals, elevated to celestial status, their bodies glinting with the metallic sheen that was the aura of all that was pure and good. None of them were the creature she sought.

"Eilistraee," she sang. Her voice harmonized with Leliana's, their music in time with their shared footsteps. "Hear our prayer. Send us a willing servant, in our time of great need. Send us the creature we seek."

A sharp, acidic odor filled the room. The priestesses leaped back, their nostrils flaring, as a creature materialized in a burst of silver gold light. A delver!

Its fat, pear-shaped body nearly filled the chamber. Yellowish spittle drooled from its gaping mouth. Its two clublike arms were tipped with blunt black claws. Its head twisted back and forth as its single, glossy black eye swept the room. Then it surged at the pedestal, heaving itself up on its arms, the rest of its body following on a rippling underbelly. As it moved, it left an acid-singed patch of dead black moss in its wake.

A thick stench filled the air. Cavatina's eyes teared, and her nose felt congested. On the far side of the room, Leliana wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. Her expression, however, was exultant. The delver was doing its work. The gold-plated pedestal disappeared into its maw with a grinding noise, as did a chunk of the door. One bite at a time, the delver chewed at the stone. Rock dust filled the air, and the floor trembled. A head-sized hole appeared in the door, revealing the corridor beyond. As the delver gouged deeper, the hole widened. Chunks of brittle rock fell to the floor like scattered crumbs, hissing and bubbling from caustic spittle.

Suddenly the delver disappeared. The prayer that had sustained it had waned. Eilistraee's magic could hold a celestial on this plane only for so long.

Cavatina strode forward. They'd done it! She crouched, ready to squeeze through the hole as soon as the rock stopped frothing. She heard a muffled peal: the alarms. She turned to Leliana. "Ghaunadaur's fanatics must be inside the Promenade already."

Leliana listened. "Sounds like they've come well past the spot where Qilue planted her trap." She shook her head. "So much for them walking into it 'meekly as rothe.' "

Cavatina squeezed through the hole. Leliana followed. Together, they raced through the High House.

As they hurried down a corridor, Cavatina noticed the door to Qilue's scrying room was open. She glanced inside and saw Meryl, standing beside a broken scrying font. The halfling was reaching for an object that lay on the wet floor: a metal cylinder as long as the halfling's arm, with a knob at either end. Qilue's blast scepter.

Was it Meryl-or a dretch?

Cavatina leaped into the room. Her sword flashed between Meryl's fingers and the floor, preventing the halfling-or dretch-from picking up the scepter. Meryl jumped back, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. Her mouth worked to form words, but none came out. She pointed at the scepter. "I couldn't… the font… the demon…"

Cavatina glanced at where Meryl was looking. Bare, sickly-pale feet protruded from behind an overturned table: a dretch, lying prone and unmoving. A vial, its silver tarnished, lay on the floor nearby.

"My mother's name," Cavatina demanded, her sword point against the halfling's chest. "What is it?"

Puzzlement crowded out Meryl's fear. "Why… it's Jetel. Jetel Xarann."

Cavatina lifted her sword. This was Meryl. She walked around the overturned table and ensured the dretch was dead.

Leliana, who had run past, returned to the doorway. "What's wrong?"

Cavatina waved her away. "It's under control. Go. Find Rylla. She'll need your help."

Leliana nodded curtly and raced away.

Cavatina knelt beside the halfling. She noted the tears spilling down Meryl's cheeks, and the bloody scratches on the little female's arms and hands. Cavatina patted her shoulder. "Good work, Meryl. You fought well."

The halfling sniffed. She picked up the blast scepter and held it out to Cavatina. "I couldn't figure out how to work it. I had to use it like a club." Her lips trembled. "That thing… scared me so. I wasn't brave. Not like you."