Extinction

The poison having been slowed, Ryld struggled to his hands and knees?still shaky but looking stronger than he had just a moment before. Halisstra knew he would no sooner leave his enchanted greatsword behind than he would sacrifice an arm or a leg, but he was still weak.

"I'll find it," Halisstra told him. "You stay here, and save your strength."

She approached the worm carefully, worried that it might not yet be dead. Its body was unmoving, however, coiled in a limp tangle. Easing its mouth open, she yanked Seyll's songsword from its cheek and let the acid drain from the finger holes in the weapon's hilt. Then she searched for Splitter.

The greatsword lay close to the spot where Halisstra had hacked her way out of the worm's belly, its hilt protruding from under a coil of the worm. She stooped and yanked it free?then spotted something lying half in and half out of the wound. It was the sword she'd used to cut herself free. Its blade was bright and untarnished?obviously magical, since it had been protected from the acid's corrosive effects?and curved. Curved.

Halisstra realized what weapon it must be.

It was the Crescent Blade.

Eyes wide with awe, ignoring the acid that was stinging the soles of her bare feet, she picked up the sword, then backed out of the pool of acid. The hilt should have been slippery with the worm's digestive juices but its leather wrapping felt dry and clean?further evidence that it was a magical weapon. Silver had been inlaid along the length of the blade, giving the metal its sheen. The inlay spelled out words in the drow tongue that began to glow slightly as Halisstra held the sword.

Ryld, rising unsteadily on his feet, moved closer to take a look as Halisstra read the inscription.

" 'Be your heart filled with light and your cause be true, I shall not fail you, " she recited. Her brows puckered in a doubtful frown. "Even in the Abyss?" she whispered.

When she looked up, she saw Ryld staring at her.

"So that's why you wanted the Crescent Blade," he said softly. "To try to kill Lolth?" He shook his head. "That's something even Vhaeraun failed to do. How can you hope to succeed where a god has failed?"

"I don't know," Halisstra answered honestly.

Part of her felt manipulated?despite nearly being devoured by the worm, it felt as though the Crescent Blade had just fallen into her hands. That made her wary, uneasy. But at the same time, another part of her felt elation. She might be no more than a piece on a sava board, being moved this way and that by an unseen hand, but that hand belonged to a goddess. Eilistraee, for good or ill, had taken a personal interest in her?something Lolth had never done. The thought filled Halisstra with a heady pride.

"Eilistraee is watching over me," she told Ryld. "It feels as if all of this has been preordained?and I have a sense that it's my destiny to at least try to follow the path the goddess has set me on. If I do succeed in killing Lolth, we'll at last be free of her clinging webs. All of us. The drow can come up into the light, without fear of her retaliation."

"And if you fail. ." Ryld began, then weakly coughed.

Halisstra took his arm and helped to steady him. They didn't have time to stand there contemplating her chances of success. Not with the poison only temporarily held at bay.

"Do you have any spare clothing?" she asked.

He nodded at the backpack on the floor and said, "In there. A tunic and some boots."

"Good," she said.

A tunic and boots alone would be little protection against the bitter winds of the World Above, but Halisstra knew she could use her spells?if sparingly?to gain temporary respite from the cold. She dug out the clothes and put them on, helped Ryld slide Splitter back into its sheath, and strapped the Crescent Blade and songsword across the top of her backpack and slipped it onto her back.

"Come on," she said, slipping one of Ryld's arms over her shoulder. "The sooner we get you back to the temple, the better your chances of living long enough to watch me die trying to kill a goddess."

Chapter Thirty-three

"Ready?" Pharaun asked, looking up from the circle he'd been drawing on the floor of the tunnel.

Only a pinch of powdered amber remained in the pouch he was holding?just enough to complete the circle in which Quenthel and Jeggred stood. The two were crowded close together, Quenthel stroking Jeggred's tangled mane in a calming gesture.

Valas and Danifae stood outside the circle, back where the water dripping from their soaked piwafwis wouldn't mar the pattern. Without levitation magic, they had no way to land safely on the storm-tossed ship, so they would remain in the tunnel.

"Get on with it," Quenthel said, forcing his mind back to the task at hand. "Cast the spell."

Pharaun stepped into the circle beside her, taking care the hem of his piwafwi didn't disturb the powder, then he crouched to sprinkle the last pinch of amber that would complete the pattern on the floor.