She halted her charge and stared at the hole in the mountain. She could see nothing beyond the darkness.
Breathing heavily, she exhaled rage and frustration with each breath.
Souls streamed around her, Lolth's dead.
Quenthel and Pharaun had escaped. Uluyara was dead, sacrificed. Feliane was-
Feliane!
She whirled around and saw to her relief that the magical hand had disappeared. Feliane walked a weaving line toward her, cradling her ribs.
Danifae had walked over to Uluyara, and crouched over her, concern in her eyes. She met
Halisstra's gaze.
"I could not save her, Mistress," she said.
Halisstra could only nod.
"I tried to assist you, Mistress," Danifae said and walked to Halisstra's side. "But the wizard twice countered my spells. Next time, I will better serve you."
Halisstra was too tired to speak.
A scrabbling from her right drew her eye. The draegloth was climbing to his feet. His red eyes burned with anger, and Feliane watched him warily.
The draegloth eyed Danifae then the slight elf, and growled.
Halisstra looked the fell creature in the face and said, "Your mistress has abandoned you for the wizard. She has left you to me. And I'll have your heart for killing Ryld Argith."
The draegloth smiled a mouthful of daggers, looked at Halisstra, and said, "My mistress has not abandoned me, heretic."
Before Halisstra could answer, Danifae slammed the head of her morningstar into Halisstra's back. Ribs cracked, and flesh punctured. Her breath went out in a whoosh. Blood poured down her back. She stumbled forward and fell.
Halisstra understood it all then.
Danifae had manipulated her, feigned a calling by Eilistraee. Danifae had simply wanted
Halisstra to kill Quenthel for her. And Danifae had arranged for the draegloth to kill Ryld.
Halisstra had been blind, seeing what she had wanted to see.
Now she would suffer the consequences.
"Halisstra!" exclaimed Feliane and ran toward her.
Standing over Halisstra, Danifae said, "Jeggred, kill that tiny elf bitch."
The draegloth roared and charged at Feliane, cutting her off before she reached Halisstra.
Wracked with pain, weighed down by the burden of her own stupidity, Halisstra nevertheless managed to get to her hands and knees. In her mind, a series of words kept repeating, words aimed at Eilistraee:
You could have warned me. You could have warned me.
Halisstra looked up as the draegloth tore into Feliane, his claws slashing and stabbing. Feliane answered with her own blade but Halisstra saw the fear in the small elf's eyes.
"Don't," she tried to say to Danifae, but the word barely made a sound. She had no breath in her lungs.
Danifae again slammed her morningstar into Halisstra's back. Her armor absorbed much of the blow, but pain still knifed through her, and she fell back to the ground.
Her former battle-captive grabbed Halisstra by her hair and jerked her head back. Halisstra tried to bring the Crescent Blade to bear, but Danifae tore it from her grasp and cast it aside.
"You have something to say, Mistress Melarn?" Danifae hissed into her ear. "No? Then watch," she commanded.
Halisstra closed her eyes and shook her head.
"Watch!" Danifae ordered and shook her head by the hair.
Halisstra opened her eyes as the draegloth tore a claw across Feliane's face. The elf staggered back but spun away from the draegloth's follow up strike. The elf's blade opened a gash on the half-demon's stomach, but it did little damage.
Roaring so loud it hurt Halisstra's ears, the draegloth rushed Feliane. She answered valiantly,
but she was too small, too slow, too weak. The draegloth tore a gash in her chest, nearly jerked an arm from its socket, and finally knocked her to the ground.
Feliane lay there, breathing heavily but stunned, unmoving.
Halisstra suddenly remembered Feliane's words to her atop the tor: I'm afraid.
The draegloth loomed over her. Without preamble, he pinned her arms to the ground and began to feed. Her screams of pain were lost in the half-demon's hungry snorts.
Halisstra bowed her head. Tears leaked from her eyes, angry tears, tears of regret. She could not find her breath.
Danifae saw them and mocked her. "Tears, Halisstra? For the weakling little elf?"
She slammed her fist into Halisstra's temple. Sparks exploded in her head. Unconsciousness threatened but did not come.
Danifae kicked Halisstra over onto her back. She lay there on the ground of Lolth's
Demonweb Pits, bleeding, gasping, her former battle-captive standing over her.
Danifae spat on Halisstra's breastplate, fouling Eilistraee's holy symbol. Halisstra did not care.
Eilistraee had fouled her own symbol by failing to warn Halisstra. Her priestesses had been no match for the servants of Lolth.
Eilistraee was weak. And Halisstra was foolish to have followed a weak goddess. She looked up at the blurry image of Danifae above her.
"Why?" she mouthed.
Danifae's mouth curled with contempt. "Why?" She reached under her cloak and withdrew a chunk of amber in which was encased a spider-her holy symbol of Lolth. She held it before
Halisstra's face.
