It took Tash'kla's bones with it, reducing her legs to empty, bloody sacks of muscle and skin. Cavatina watched, horrified, as the ooze splintered the bones and squeezed the marrow out.

Furious, she attacked the ooze with the scepter. It took more than one blast to kill the thing. When the ooze at last exploded from the sonic attack, a bone splinter whizzed past Cavatina's ear. She didn't flinch. She moved to Tash'kla, kneeled, and touched her throat.

No blood-pulse. Tash'kla was dead.

Fortunately, the ooze hadn't consumed her utterly. Enough remained that Tash'kla might be resurrected-assuming anyone from the Promenade survived to revive her. In this cavern alone, there were so many oozes that Cavatina was starting to have doubts about how the battle would go.

She wiped a splatter of ooze from her forehead with a shaking hand. Was this how it had been for Qilue, when she and her companions battled Ghaunadaur's avatar? Cavatina's sword was slippery with foul-smelling slime, and its song was a dirge. She tightened her grip on the weapon, grimly wondering where the high priestess was. Trapped within her own body by the demon-forced to watch as her cherished temple fell?

No, Cavatina thought angrily. It wouldn't come to that. Eilistraee wouldn't permit it.

She ran down the street, and at last reached the corridor she'd been making for. It turned out to be choked with the bodies of the fallen. Most were unrecognizable, reduced by acid to weeping mounds of reddish flesh, or blackened by searing heat to unrecognizable lumps. She gagged at the sour smell of spilled entrails and charred flesh and pressed on, slipping and sliding on the fouled stone.

Just ahead, the tunnel widened into a cavern that overlooked the river before turning sharply right. This gave her two options: she could follow the tunnel, or the river. She ran to the edge of the cavern and peered out, toward the bridge that spanned the river.

What she saw sent a shiver through her.

Ooze after ooze, differentiated from each other only by color, flowed across the bridge to the main part of the Promenade. At first Cavatina thought they were coming from the caverns on the far side of the river, but as she watched, a bulge formed on one of the three stone columns that supported the ceiling at the far side of the bridge: another ooze. As it plopped to the ground, quivering, another slime bulged out of the column. It was as if the stone wept slimy tears.

That column must be the portal Karas had led the fanatics through. She wondered how the Nightshadow fared-if he were any closer to the ruined temple than she was. No wonder he'd been so shaken; unleashing this horror on the Promenade would have driven anyone to tears.

The voice of Erelda, Rylla's second in command, sounded in Cavatina's mind. Protectors! Fall back on the Cavern of Song. The oozes are converging upon it!

Cavatina's heart pounded as she realized the implications. Oozes were near-mindless things, driven by basic instincts like hunger-or the need to draw closer to their god. She could think of only one reason for them to converge upon the Cavern of Song: to reach the Pit. Had the fanatics already succeeded in wrenching open the planar breach?

The seals, Cavatina sent back. Are they still intact?

Erelda's response came a moment later. The Mound is untouched. The seals are in place.

Cavatina sighed in relief. There's a planar breach at the bottom of the Pit, she warned Erelda. If the seals are destroyed…

They won't be. By sword or song, we'll do whatever it takes to prevent that.

Cavatina heard a sound behind her: another ooze, headed her way. She debated which way to go. The tunnel she'd been following was the most direct route to the ruined temple, yet its narrowness would make it easy for the oozes to block her way.

She decided to swim, instead.

She sheathed her sword-she needed at least one hand free to swim-and dived into the water, the scepter held out in front of her. The shock of hitting cold water made her sputter as she surfaced, but a quick prayer blunted the worst of the cold. As the current moved her to the bridge, she sang a hymn that rendered her invisible. It wouldn't fool the oozes-they'd sense her footfalls the moment she climbed from the water. But it would conceal her from any fanatics who might be nearby.

As if on cue, a drow tumbled out of the portal column. Even from this distance, Cavatina could see the eye symbol on the front of his tabard. As he stood, another of Ghaunadaur's fanatics emerged from the portal. Then a third, and a fourth. They stood in a group as the first one pointed downriver-away from Cavatina, and away from the ruined temple.

The bridge loomed, cutting off her view. Cavatina swam to the wall on the far side of the river from the fanatics. Above her was a cavern mouth. At the back of that cavern, down a short corridor, was a door leading to the ruined temple. If she could drive the oozes back, using the blast scepter, she might reach it.

She climbed.

Halfway up, she glanced over her shoulder to see where the fanatics had gone. She couldn't spot them. She'd have to be wary, in case they'd crossed to this side of the bridge.

As soon as she reached the ledge, she used the blast scepter to drive the oozes back from the cavern, then heaved herself up onto its acid-slick floor. Additional blasts from the scepter kept the oozes at bay. They retreated to the left and right, revealing the corridor that led to the ruined temple.

Cavatina sprinted into it. The oozes closed ranks behind her, blocking the way back to the river. She blasted them over her shoulder with the scepter, forcing them back.

The door to the ruined temple was closed. Cavatina pushed on it, praying it wasn't locked. When she at last forced it open, a rush of liquid flowed out. She leaped back, worried it might be more acid. The force of the liquid inside the room pushed the door shut. She glanced down. Her boots were still intact, and her feet didn't sting. The liquid probably wasn't acid.

An ooze slid into the corridor behind her. She turned to blast it with the scepter.

Nothing happened. She'd used it once too often, draining it of its magic.

She slammed her shoulder into the door, opening it again. She braced it as a rush of water flowed out. Something carried by the flow bumped against her knees: a body.

"By all that dances," Cavatina cried. "Rylla!"

She dragged the battle-mistress's body into the room with her, and let what remained of the water push the door shut. As she threw the deadbolt, she heard the wet slap of the ooze striking the door. She dropped the depleted blast scepter down in the ankle-deep water and bent to examine the battle-mistress. Rylla's nose looked broken. Water dribbled from her open mouth as Cavatina lifted her. Rylla appeared to have drowned.

Had her death been the fanatics' doing, or Qilue's?

Cavatina lay Rylla down again and drew her sword. The weapon hummed softly, ready for battle. She looked around. The compulsion glyph Horaldin had inscribed on the wall was gone-had the portal been sealed, too? She sloshed to that corner of the room and sang a detection.

The wall turned as thin as mist. The portal was still active.

Had Qilue passed through it?

Cavatina glanced at the chamber's second exit and saw a dull brown ooze squeezing its way through the cracks between the door and its frame. Karas wasn't likely to show up, and she doubted he'd get past it if he did. The other ooze, meanwhile, was squeezing its way around the door she'd bolted shut.

There was only one way out now.

Into the portal.

Cavatina didn't want to leave Rylla behind. If her body was consumed by an ooze, the battle-mistress might never be resurrected. She grabbed Rylla with her free hand, dragged her body to the portal, and stepped through it.