Extinction

Closing his eyes, Ryld felt her lips brush his ear?and heard a whisper so faint he was certain it hadn't been meant for him.

"Eilistraee, forgive me. I love him."

Then, taking him by the hand, she led him to the ancient ruin the priestesses had set aside as their shelter.

As soon as they were inside, she kissed him again. Her lips pressed into his with a fierceness uncharacteristic of her. They had kissed before, it was true, but not like that. All she had permitted him, before that night, were brief, almost chaste brushes of his lips against hers. Obedient male that he was, he had not dared ask for more. Bur that kiss. . that was the kind of kiss his fantasies had been filled with. Eagerly, he returned it, barely keeping in check the hard, insistent heat that was threatening to overwhelm him.

"I want you," Halisstra said, breaking away from the kiss just long enough to gasp out the words. "I want to take you. Here. Now."

At these words, Ryld felt self-control slide completely from his grasp. Breathing rapidly?where had his warrior's training fled to??he slid Splitter from his back and tossed the greatsword aside, then rapidly began shucking his armor.

Halisstra was stripping off her own armor and clothing, then she was kissing him again, one hand pressing against the back of his head, the other snaking tight around his waist, making the process of undressing even more difficult. For one panicked moment, Ryld had a vision of himself as a fly, caught in a spider's web. Halisstra's arms were tight around him, pulling him closer, her mouth devouring him. Her teeth bit passionately into his neck, then his chest, then the hard muscle of his stomach, and onward.

For several long, dizzy moments Ryld flung his head back and stared sightlessly at the sagging ceiling of the ruin. Dimly he was aware of the rough floor rushing up to meet his back, of a corner of his vambrace digging with blissful pain into his shoulder.

Halisstra was on top of him. For just a moment, her hair seemed streaked with silver as she tossed it back behind her shoulders, and Ryld was reminded of the woman who had appeared to him in the belladonna-induced fever dream. Sparkles of moonlight rushed down and exploded into his mind, obliterating everything else.

Much later, Halisstra touched his shoulder and whispered, "Ryld? Are you in Reverie? I wanted to speak to you about something."

Ryld opened his eyes. He could tell by Halisstra's tone that he wasn't going to like whatever it was she was about to say. She sounded formal and firm, her tone reminiscent of the way a priestesses would address a male. He braced himself, waiting for the whiplike reprimand that must soon come. She must have spotted him earlier, spying on the sacred song and dance, and she was going to chastise him for it.

"I'm going back to the Underdark," she told him. "I'm going to find Quenthel Baenre and the others and rejoin their quest."

Startled?but not showing it, in case it was a test?he stared deep into her eyes. Her face, like his own, was perfectly neutral. No, not completely. Something shone in her eyes?something more than reflected starlight. An echo of the passion they'd shared.

"Why?" he asked.

Halisstra visibly relaxed.

"Uluyara has asked me to go back there. Eilistraee's priestesses need to know if Lolth truly is dead. The information is vital to their cause?and I'm the only one who can obtain it for them."

Ryld nodded. The warrior part of his mind acknowledged the wisdom of Uluyara's command. Halisstra would make an excellent spy. Moreover, she was merely a foot soldier in Eilistraee's order. If Quenthel killed her, she would barely be missed. The traitor priestesses' war against Lolth would continue with barely a ripple. Deep inside, however, he boiled with anger at Uluyara's willingness to sacrifice Halisstra.

"I'm not asking you to come with me," Halisstra said.

Realizing that he had let his anger show?and that Halisstra had misread it?Ryld said what was on his mind.

"One tiny slip, and Quenthel will kill you, as fast as a striking serpent."

"That's something I'm willing to risk."

"I'm not," he said. "That's why I'm going to come with you."

Halisstra touched his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Later still, when Ryld had indeed slipped into Reverie, Halisstra stared at him. He sat cross-legged, his eyes closed. His hands were crossed on the scabbarded blade of Splitter, but otherwise he looked like a vanquished warrior, his armor strewn about him and his weapons cast aside.

Sighing, Halisstra leaned back against a wall of the ruin and settled into Reverie herself. Her muscles were already loose and relaxed, and so it took but a moment for the familiar wash of memories to claim her.