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he stone head and the name carved into its base had been roughly done； so it was still possible to make out the first letter： an M。 When Halisstra noticed the damage； she asked her mother whose bust it had been and how it came to be broken。 Her answer was a stinging slap across the face…a slap so hard it had split Halisstra's upper lip。 She could still remember her surprise…and the taste of her own blood。 Some questions； she'd learned； were better not asked。
Which had made her all that much more keen to have an answer。 And so； years later when she had bee a priestess； she'd used one of the spells granted by Lolth to satisfy her curiosity。 Under the spell's magic； the name on the ruined bust had blazed clearly： Mathira。 Discreet inquiries had uncovered a sliver of information about the woman； that she had fallen into disgrace and been forced to flee Ched Nasad a decade before Halisstra was born。 What her 〃traitorous act〃 had been； however； Halisstra had not been able to discover。 Eventually； having reached the end of the thread of family scandal she grew bored and let the matter drop。
〃So；〃 Halisstra said； half whispering； 〃Mathira must have fled Ched Nasad because she'd turned to the worship of Eilistraee。〃
〃And she came here；〃 Uluyara finished for her。 〃She rose through the ranks of the faithful to bee a Sword Dancer； and was the priestess who carried the Crescent Blade onto the Cold Field…and lost it。
And it was up to Halisstra to find it and to use it as Eilistraee intended； to kill Lolth。
It was all too much to be mere coincidence。 Halisstra saw the hand of Eilistraee in every step of it。 Who else but a goddess could guide the lives of mortals in so subtle a fashion； weaving together a plan that spanned centuries？ Halisstra was certain that； were she to try to back out of the quest； Eilistraee would find a way to steer her feet back onto her ordained path。
The thought terrified her。 At the same time； it also gave her hope that she might succeed。 She had to trust in the goddess…even though trust was something she had only just learned。 It still came only with difficulty。
One question； however； remained。
〃How do I find the Crescent Blade？〃 she asked。
Uluyara stared up at the moon and for several lone moments said nothing。 Then slowly； the words came。
〃You have magic that we do not…'dark song magic；' you called it。 Perhaps that is what is needed to bring the Crescent Blade back into the light。〃
Halisstra nodded and said； 〃There is a spell I was learning； before I left。 。 。 before Ched Nasad was destroyed。 The bard who was teaching it to me said it could be used to locate any object I could visualize。 If I'm able to cast it； I might use it to find the Crescent Blade。 If； that is； you could tell me where I should begin my search。 Where was Mathira when she disappeared？〃
〃She was last seen in Harrowdale；〃 Uluyara answered。 〃From there； she was to travel south to Scardale； then on to Blackfeather Bridge。 She could hardly go missing along so well traveled a road； and so we assumed she veered from it and became lost。 Mathira's business was urgent and perhaps caused her to choose a shorter route…to travel to Blackfeather Bridge in a direct line across the Cold Field； instead of circling around it by road。〃
Already Halisstra was deciding how to use her spell to best advantage。 She'd travel to Harrowdale； orient herself in the direction of Feather Falls； and march in as straight a line as possible； casting her spell every eight hundred paces…the limit of its range。
〃How big is the Cold Field？〃 Halisstra asked； picturing something the size of a large cavern。
〃Unfortunately； the Cold Field is widest from northeast to southwest；〃 Uluyara said。 〃It's open ground…so no more than a two…day march at a steady pace。 But it will be far from easy。 You'll be lucky to reach the other side of it alive。 Luckier still； if the ghosts that inhabit that bleak place haven't driven you mad long before you leave it。〃
〃Won't any of the other priestesses be ing with me？〃 Halisstra asked。
〃Most have already left to search for the yochlol that killed Breena。 The one or two who remain have other； equally pressing matters to attend to。 I don't know if they can be spared。〃
Halisstra's eyes narrowed； and she asked； 〃You don't really expect me to find it； do you？〃
〃It isn't that； child；〃 Uluyara answered softly。 〃It's just that some journeys must be taken alone。〃 Her gaze drifted up toward the tree…tops。 The singing had stopped。 Breena's body had been laid to rest。
The night air was cold； but Halisstra felt a fire begin to smolder inside her。
〃I'll find the Crescent Blade；〃 she vowed。 〃On my own。 I don't need help from anyone。〃
She turned and strode into the forest； back to the shelter she shared with Ryld。 Uluyara might not have faith in Halisstra； but there was one greater who did。
Eilistraee。
Chapter Twenty…eight
Valas waited； a kukri in each hand； at the end of the tunnel that Pharaun had bored through solid stone with his magic a moment before。 Perfectly smooth and slightly oval in shape； the tunnel was not quite high enough for Valas to stand fully upright。 He stood with shoulders hunched； his hair brushing the magic…warmed stone。
Pharaun； a pace behind him； chanted softly； holding the tiny seeds that were the spell's material ponent between forefinger and thumb。 The mage had prepared well over the course of the four days it took them to reach the portion of the Underdark that lay beneath Myth Drannor。 He'd already cast the spell several times； extending the tunnel until it was more than a hundred paces long。 If the rogue who'd told Valas about the portal had been accurate in his estimates； the distance between the corridor behind them and the vault they hoped to reach was close to that figure。 The next spell should see them through the intervening rock。
As Pharaun pleted his spell； flicking the seeds at the tunnel's end wall and pointing with his forefinger； Valas braced himself。 The stone before him shimmered； then seemed to melt away in front of Pharaun's finger； revealing a large room about ten paces ahead。 A rush of stale air came back along the tunnel； carrying with it the smell of dust and desiccated flesh。
Quiet as a spider； Valas crept forward and peered into the ancient treasure vault。 It was； as the rogue had described； immense。 Circular in shape； it was perhaps a hundred and fifty paces across and fifty paces high； with a domed roof whose ceiling was inlaid with intricate mosaics。 Those； wrought in polished pebbles…many of them semiprecious stones…depicted a number of the surface elves' gods； bows in hand with arrows nocked。 Portions of the mosaic had fallen away in spots where tree roots had grown down through the ceiling； bulging its masonry inward。 Chunks of stone and a scattering of earth lay on the floor below。 The gods that remained in the mosaic frowned down into the empty room as if angered by its decrepit state。
At floor level…about five paces below the tunnel in which Valas crouched…were three doors； set at equal distances from each other。 The one immediately below Valas and to his right looked as though it had been blasted off its hinges。 Thar was how the rogue and his panions had entered； after negotiating a corridor filled with more traps than a spider's nest had eggs。 Wisely； Quenthel…or rather Pharaun； who had subtly persuaded her…had chosen not to try that route。
Valas stared into the darkened room； listening intently。 Of the wraiths there was no sign； but that was not unusual。 Wraiths could pass through walls； and they might appear at any moment。 Nor was there any sign of the bodies of the rogue's panions。 Again； that was not surprising。 Risen again as wights； they probably left through the ruined door in search of fresh meat…only to be cut to pieces by the blade traps that lined the corridor。 Their stench； however； lingered in the still air。。。 or did it？
Glancing up at the ceiling again； Valas saw a skull nested in one of the tangles of tree root that bulged down into the room。 The vault must have been built under a graveyard。 The surface elves were known for planting trees atop the graves of their dead。 With all of the moldering corpses that lay just above the ceiling； it was no wonder wraiths were drawn to the place。
Pharaun crept up behind Valas and stared down into the vault。
See anything？ the Master of Sorcere signed。
Transferring both daggers into one hand； Valas shook his head and replied； I see no sign of the wraiths…or of the portal。
If it's here； you soon will； Pharaun signed back。
The wizard began whispering the words to a spell。 He passed a hand through the air； palm toward the room。 After a moment； a circle at the center of the room began to glow a faint purple。
There； he signed； pointing。
Valas made a mental note of the spot； then continued watching and waiting。 Since magic had disturbed the air of the vault； the wraiths would likely appear that much sooner。 Assuming； that was； that the rogues story had been accurate。
The fellow had claimed the vault still held treasure…something Valas hadn't told his panions； since it might have distracted them from their mission…but the room was clearly empty。 Perhaps the rogue had been lying about the wraiths； as well。 Neither the sudden appearance of a magic…hewn tunnel in one wall of the vault nor the divination Pharaun had just cast had brought them out into the open。 If wraiths had once haunted that place where the gods frowned in stony silence； they seemed to have gone。
But that didn't mean Valas wouldn't take precautions。 Hanging around his neck on a delicate gold chain was an amulet crafted by the surface elves and shaped like a golden sun。 He pulled it out from under his armor and kissed it； then let it hang free against his chest； ignoring Pharaun's raised eyebrows。 If any wraiths did turn up； it would protect him。
For a while； at least。
You and the others should make a run for it； he signed。 With a running start and a leap； you should be able to levitate down onto the portal without touching anything in the room。 I'll use my amulet to make the jump。 With luck； the wraiths…if there are any…won't even know we're here。
You're forgetting that Danifae can't levitate； Pharaun signed。
Valas groaned…softly。 Was he the only one capable of tactical thinking？
Use one of your spells on her…the one that enables you to leap around like a flea。 She'll be able to make the portal in one or two jumps。 He paused； then added； Just make sure she goes last。 She'll be the clumsiest…if there are wraiths here； it will be her noise that attracts them。
Pharaun frowned at that but made no ment。 Instead he raised a hand to his lips and pointed back down the tunnel； where Quenthel； Danifae； and Jeggred waited。
〃We're through；〃 he breathed； his spell carrying his whispered words to Quenthel。 〃The portal looks clear…and active。 e quickly； but quietly。〃
Valas； still intently watching the room below； heard a faint clink of armor from the far end of the tunnel…Danifae and Quenthel moving along it…and the faint click…click of Jeggred's elongated toe…nails on the stone。 He gritted his teeth； praying that his panions would learn the value of moving silently…and learn it soon。 Then he heard the clicking pause and the sound of a low growl。
His patience at an end； Valas spun around； an oath on his lips。 He saw Quenthel moving toward him； leading the others down the corridor。 Danifae was just behind her； but Jeggred was lagging several paces to the rear and was looking back over his shoulder； still growling。
Mistress！ Valas signed angrily。 Tell Jeggred to keep…
Before he could finish； the relative silence was split by a fierce roar。 Jeggred launched himself back down the tunnel； bellowing his battle howl as his claws scrambled on the floor。 In another instant； Valas saw what had triggered the draegloth's attack。
Two twisted caricatures that had once been duergar； with claws as long as Jeggred's own and mouths filled with needle…sharp teeth； were stalking up behind them。 Rotte