Resurrection

"Are we certain?" Feliane ventured. "The prophecy of the Crescent Blade did not speak of the

Spider Queen's Chosen."

"I am as certain as I can be," Halisstra replied, knowing that she was not certain at all.

Feliane did not hesitate. She said, "Then I am convinced."

Uluyara looked from Feliane to Halisstra. After a moment she blew out a sigh, touched the holy symbol of Eilistraee she wore around her neck, and said, "Then I am also convinced. How will we find Quenthel Baenre?"

Halisstra wanted to hug the high priestess.

"She is here, somewhere in the Demonweb Pits," Halisstra said, "trying to reach Lolth. I am certain of that too."

"Then we must find her before she reaches the Spider Queen," Feliane said. "But how?

Follow the souls?" She indicated the damned souls streaming high above them.

"No," Halisstra said. "We must locate her more precisely."

Uluyara understood Halisstra's meaning, and said, "The Baenre will be warded. A scrying spell will not work."

"She will be warded," Halisstra conceded, "but she bears an item that once was mine, a healing wand that she took from me after the fall of Ched Nasad. That will aid the spell." She looked her sisters in the face. "It will work, and that it does will be a sign from the Maiden."

"She may sense the scrying," Uluyara said.

Halisstra nodded and replied, "She might. Let us trust in the Lady, High Priestess. Time is short." Halisstra felt the moments slipping from her.

"I am with you, Halisstra Melarn," Uluyara said with a smile. "But to scry, we must have a basin of holy water."

Halisstra scanned the top of the tor, looking for any standing pool of water left over from the rain. Uluyara and Feliane spread out to help search.

"Here!" Feliane called after only a few moments.

Halisstra and Uluyara hurried over and found Feliane standing over a small puddle of foul water that had pooled in a declivity in the rock.

"That will do," Halisstra said.

"I will hallow it," Uluyara said, taking out her holy symbol.

She held the medallion over the water and offered a prayer of consecration to Eilistraee. As she chanted the imprecation, she took a small pearl from her cloak and dropped it into the water.

The pearl dissolved as if it was salt, the rime of filth vanished, and the water cleared. Uluyara ended the prayer and stepped back from the puddle.

"It is ready," she said.

Halisstra could not help but smile. Between the raising of the temple and the consecration of a holy water font, the three priestesses had carved off a little piece of Lolth's plane in Eilistraee's name. It felt good; it felt defiant. She wondered how long the temple and font would last before the evil of the Pits reclaimed them.

It will stand forever once Lolth is dead, she thought.

With renewed determination, she knelt before the font and saw her dim reflection in its clear waters. Lolth's eight stars, though they hung directly above her, did not show in the reflection.

Halisstra was pleased. Even on her own plane, the Spider Queen could not befoul Eilistraee's font.

Touching her holy symbol, Halisstra sang the song of scrying.

As the magic took shape, she conjured an image of Quenthel Baenre in her mind-her tall stature, her angry eyes and harsh mouth, the long white hair, the whip of serpents, the wand she had stolen from Halisstra. .

The clear water darkened. Halisstra felt her consciousness expand. She continued the musical prayer, her voice growing more confident. Though she was not an especially skilled diviner, the words of the scrying spell poured easily from her lips. She knew that Quenthel's wards could protect the Baenre priestess, but she knew with a certainty born of her faith that they would not.

Eilistraee's will would be done; Halisstra would be the Dark Maiden's instrument.

An image formed in the font, wavering at first but clearer with each note that Halisstra sang.

There was no sound, but when the image came fully into view it was as clear as a portrait.

Uluyara and Feliane crowded close to see.

The image showed Quenthel Baenre in the air, clutched to the chest of an enormous creature covered in muscle and short, coarse fur. The rest of the monster's body was not visible.

Halisstra's spell conveyed an image of only Quenthel and her immediate surroundings. Anything beyond that appeared as an indistinguishable gray blur.

Quenthel looked forward, a tight smile on her face, her intense eyes burning. Her long hair streamed behind her in the wind. Her mouth moved as if she was shouting something to the creature that held her.

Uluyara said, "She rides in the grasp of a demon. Look at the size of it, the six fingered hands and claws … it is a nalfeshnee."

Halisstra nodded. Quenthel must have summoned and bound the nalfeshnee to her will.

The demon suddenly wheeled higher-Halisstra caused the scrying sensor to follow-into the midst of a swarm of drow souls. The spirits wheeled all around the image, flitting in and out of the spell's "eye."