Extinction

Ryld, staring at the trophy tree again, muttered something under his breath. Halisstra thought she heard the words "just like clearing the slums," then decided she must have been wrong, since the phrase made no sense.

"Ryld," she said slowly, "are you sure you?"

Quiet! Ryld warned, switching suddenly to silent speech. I hear voices in the woods. Human voices. They're coming this way.

Halisstra, worried, reached for the horn on her belt. Should she sound it to warn the priestesses? That was what she'd been sent out to the perimeter of the temple grounds to do, after all: stand guard. Uluyara had warned her that human adventurers sometimes ventured deep into the Velarswood?adventurers who made no distinction between the worshipers of Eilistraee and the drow of the Underdark. Humans slew any ebony-ski

But blowing the horn would also alert the humans to Halisstra's presence?and they were close. Better to assess the situation from hiding and deal with the humans herself, if possible. Ryld would back her up?and provide an additional element of surprise.

Take cover, she signed to him. I'll challenge them. You wait.

Nodding, Ryld slid his greatsword silently out of its sheath, at the same time flipping up the hood of his piwafwi. He stepped back into the branches and stood utterly still, becoming no more than another shadow. Halisstra, meanwhile, quickly sang under her breath, casting a spell that rendered her invisible. Then she waited, songsword in hand.

The humans were either bold?or stupid. They came through the woods with heavy, snow-crunching footsteps, not bothering to lower their voices, which, when Halisstra could finally hear them clearly, sounded strained. Occasionally they grunted, as if carrying a heavy load. As they passed by the base of the trophy tree and came into sight through the underbrush, Halisstra saw two of them, both human males with axes in sheaths on their backs, carrying a body on a cloak they held stretched between them.

The body of a female drow.

And not just any drow, but one who wore the moon-and-sword emblem of Eilistraee on a chain around her neck, and a cluster of miniature swords that hung from a ring on her belt like keys.

"Who are you?" Halisstra called out, dropping her invisibility spell. "What's happened to this priestess?"

She held her songsword at the ready?not because the men looked threatening but because, if the priestess was still alive, healing magic might be needed, and quickly. Stepping closer, she touched the woman's throat, but saw that it was too late for any spells she might have offered. The priestess's skin was cold, and the rhythm of life had stilled. Her closed eyes would see no more.

Both of the humans were thin and muscular, with pale blond hair and darker skin than most humans, suggesting there had been a drow somewhere among their ancestors. The older of the two men inclined his head to Halisstra. It was as much of a bow as he could manage while still holding on to the cloak that sagged with the priestess's weight. When Halisstra nodded back in acknowledgement, the two men gently eased their burden to the snowy ground.

"We two are from Velarsburg," the older man said. "I am the lumberman Rollim, and this is my son Baeford. We were cutting timber near the Howling Hills when we heard a woman calling for help. We followed the voice?some ways through the woods, from which I figure it must have been a magical sending?and found this Dark Lady outside a cave. She looked near death?she was breathing shallow, and fast. She couldn't speak, but she could still sign. She said she'd been attacked in the Realms Below and needed to get back to the temple."

Halisstra contemplated the dead priestess. She was a stranger, but Halisstra could guess her mission by the tiny swords that hung from the ring on her belt. She was one of the priestesses who traveled as missionaries into the Underdark, carrying the faith of Eilistraee to the drow who dwelled below. The tiny swords would have been handed out to the faithful, to serve as «keys» that would ensure them safe passage to the temple.

"Did she tell you what attacked her?" Halisstra asked.

Rollim frowned and replied, "Not 'what, Lady, but who. When she was telling her story, she used the sign for 'she. The sign that means 'drow female. »

Halisstra winced.

"Did you see any sign of this other drow?" she asked.

"None," Rollim said. "There was only the Dark Lady's footprints?and we didn't dare go into the cave. The other must still be below."

"Stabbed in the back," Halisstra muttered, staring down at the priestess. "How typical."

Behind the two men?both had their backs to the spot where Ryld was hidden?she saw dark hands briefly flash: Or else abandoned to fight alone.

Even though Ryld's face was no more than a shadow under the hood of his piwafwi, Halisstra could see he was scowling.

"Not stabbed," Baeford interjected. "There wasn't a mark on her." He glanced apprehensively down at the body of the priestess. "It must have been magic that killed her."

Rollim ran a heavily callused hand through his hair, which was damp with sweat and dotted with sawdust. "A normal injury, we might have been able to do something about?we could have splinted a broken bone or stanched the bleeding of an axe cut. But this?" he shuddered?" She died as we were lifting her onto the cloak."

Halisstra nodded. "You did well to bring her here," she told them. "I'm sure the priestesses will reward?"

"They already have," Rollim said. He raised his right hand, palm up, toward the sky in a reverential gesture, then let it drop to his side. "If it wasn't for the Dark Ladies, Baeford wouldn't be alive today. He had the pox soon after his birth and nearly died, but Eilistraee healed him." He glanced at the dead priestess, and his expression grew grim. "I only wish we'd been able to repay that kindness."

Baeford?whose face did have pock marks?shuffled his feet nervously.

"Lady," Baeford asked, "shall we carry her to the sacred circle?"

He looked as though the last thing he wanted to do was pick up the body again.

"No," she answered. "I'll take her. You may go."

"You'll carry her alone?" Rollim asked, eyebrow raised.

He bowed hurriedly when he saw Halisstra's frown. She still didn't appreciate a male questioning her authority.

"As you wish," Rollim quickly said. Then, to his son, "Come, Baeford. We've done all we can."

As they left, Ryld slid silently out of the branches.

Should I follow them? he signed.

Halisstra shook her head.

"No. There's something amiss here, but though the younger one could sense it, he doesn't know what it is. Whatever it is, they weren't the cause of it."

She knelt beside the body and studied it, shifting it slightly to observe the woman's back. As Baeford had said, there were no obvious signs of injury. The priestess's skin was unbroken, and her tunic and boots showed only normal travel wear. Just as all of Eilistraee's priestesses did?especially when venturing into the Underdark?she wore a chain mail shirt. Its links were undamaged, and her sword was still in its scabbard.

On an impulse, Halisstra grasped the hilt and tugged. The sword slid out of its scabbard easily, its blade keen and bright?had it been used, it might have been sticky with blood. As Halisstra reached once again over the dead woman to resheath the weapon, her face came close to that of the priestess. Detecting a faint but acrid odor, she bent closer and sniffed. The smell was a distinctive blend of the sulfuric fires of the Abyss combined with rotten spiderweb.

Halisstra swore softly, "Eilistraee protect us."

"What is it?" Ryld asked, tense.

"She was killed by a yochlol," Halisstra said. "I can smell its stink on her skin and hair."

Silver flashed as Ryld drew his greatsword. He assumed a ready position, eyes darting around the forest.