Extinction

"There was a surface dweller?a human mage?who dwelt for a short time in Ched Nasad," Halisstra said. The vastness of the sky above them made her speak softly; it felt as if the gods were lurking up there just behind the clouds, watching. "He spoke of how our city made him feel like he was living in a room with too low a ceiling?that he was always aware of the roof of the cavern over his head. I laughed at him; how could anyone feel enclosed in a city that was so loosely woven?a city balanced on the thin lines of a calcified web? But now I think I understand what he meant." She gestured up at the sky. "This all feels so … open."

Ryld grunted and asked, "Have you seen enough? We're not going to find an entrance to the Underdark up here. Let's climb back down and get out of the wind."

Halisstra nodded. The wind found its way inside the armor she wore, even through the thickly padded chain mail tunic that covered her from neck to knees, and from shoulders to elbows. A silver plate attached to the tunic's chest was embossed with the symbol of a sword, standing point-up across a full moon surrounded by a nimbus of silvery filaments. It was the holy symbol of Eilistraee, goddess of the surface-dwelling drow. The padding of the chain mail still smelled of blood?that of the priestess Halisstra had dispatched. The smell haunted the armor like a lingering ghost, even though the blood was several days old.

Halisstra had not only claimed the armor from Seyll after her own armor was stolen, but also Seyll's shield and weapons?including a slender long sword with a hollow hilt that had holes running the length of it?a hilt that could be raised to the lips and played like a flute. A beautiful weapon, but it hadn't helped Seyll any?she'd died before getting a chance to draw it. Lulled by Halisstra's feigned interest in her goddess, Seyll had been utterly surprised by Halisstra's sudden attack. And despite Halisstra's treachery, Seyll had told her, "I have hope for you still." She'd said it with such certainty, as if, even in her final, dying moments, she expected Halisstra to save her.

She'd been a fool. Yet Halisstra could no more get the priestess's dying words out of her mind than she could get the smell of blood out or the armor she'd claimed.

Was this what guilt felt like: a lingering stench that wouldn't go away?

Angered by her own weakness, Halisstra shook the thought out of her head. Seyll had deserved to die. The priestess was stupid to have trusted a person who was not of her faith?even more foolish to trust a fellow drow.

Still, Halisstra thought, as she paused to let Ryld descend the stairs first, Seyll had been right about one thing. It would be nice not to always have to watch your back.

Ryld descended the stairs in silence, listening to the faint clink of Halisstra's chain mail and trying in vain to pull his mind away from the shapely legs he would see if he would just turn around. Where was his concentration? As a Master of Melee-Magthere, he ought to have more control, but Halisstra had ensnared him in a web of desire stronger than any Lolth's magic could spin.

At the bottom of the stairs, away from the chilling wind of the open bluff, Halisstra paused to finger a crescent shape that had been carved into the rock.

"This was a holy place, once," she said, looking over the scatter of broken columns that lay among the snow-shrouded trees.

Ryld scowled. In the World Above, vegetation covered everything like an enormous mold. He missed the clean rock walls of the caverns, empty of the smells of wet loam and leaf that choked his nose. He scuffed at the snow with his boot, uncovering a cracked marble floor.

"How can you tell?" he asked.

"The crescent moon?it's the symbol of Corellon Larethia. The elves who once lived in these woods must have worshiped here. Their priests probably climbed these stairs to work their magic under the moon."

Ryld squinted up at the ball of fire that hung in the sky.

"The moon's not as bright as the sun," he said, "at least."

"It casts a softer light," Halisstra replied. "I've heard that this is because the gods who claim it as their symbol are kinder to those who worship them?but I don't know if that's true."

Ryld stared for a while at the ruined masonry then said, "The gods of the surface elves can't be very strong. Corellon let this temple fall into disrepair, and Seyll's goddess was powerless to save her from you."

Halisstra nodded and replied, "That's true. Yet when Lolth tried to overthrow Corellon and establish a new coronal in his place all those millennia ago, she was defeated and forced to flee to the Abyss."

"The Academy teaches that the goddess left Arvandor willingly," Ryld said. Then he shrugged. "More of a strategic retreat."