"That's true. But we have other means of reaching the area: a portal." She stared up at Master Seldszar. "If it comes to a military campaign against the Acropolis, do you think you'll be able to convince the Conclave to join us?"

Q'arlynd waited as expectantly as Miverra for the master's reply. He could guess what must be going through Seldszar's mind. Though Q'arlynd had lived in Sshamath for only a short time, he knew how the pieces would line up. All of the colleges would be affected by the loss of divination magic, but their wizards relied on it to a lesser degree. If they needed a divination, they could always find a human wizard to cast one for them. The spells they specialized in would be unaffected; the crisis would leave them largely untouched. They might, in fact, be just as happy to see the College of Divination fall. Power sliced nine ways, instead of ten, would give each a larger piece of the pie that was Sshamath.

What's more, the other Masters would be loath to participate in a campaign that might cost them a number of the city's soldiers and battle mages. Lolth's temple in Sshamath was small, but since the upheaval that had thinned the ranks of Vhaeraun's clergy, the Spider Queen's priestesses controlled most of the healing magic. A crusade led by their hated rivals would be the last thing they would agree to. And without healing magic, any expeditionary force's losses would be unacceptably high.

Yet there might yet be a way to salvage things.

"Master, might I confer with you about something?" Q'arlynd asked.

Miverra shot him a glance. Q'arlynd gave her his best "trust me" look.

Master Seldszar gestured toward the door. "Please step outside for a moment, Lady Miverra."

The priestess straightened her shoulders indignantly. A moment later, however, she bowed. "I'll await your reply." She strode out of the room.

When she was gone, Q'arlynd took a deep breath. "Master, forgive my brashness, but I know a thing or two about Eilistraee's priestesses. My sister was one of them, after all. I understand how they think. Much of what they do is based on trust." he said, using the surface elves' word for the term that had, in High Drowic, no true equivalent. "If we tell Miverra a little of the truth, give her a hint of the complexity of what she's asking, we'll convince her that a small force is all that could possibly be mustered."

The master stared down at Q'arlynd. "Go on."

"The Conclave hasn't heard Miverra's petition yet. The other masters will know that a priestess of Eilistraee wished to speak to them, but not why. If she can be convinced to leave quietly with a small force of wizards drawn entirely from our college, we could secretly participate in the scouting expedition. Judging by the way she worded it, her 'advance party' hasn't departed yet. If the source of the problem does indeed turn out to be Kiaransalee's temple, and if its spread can be halted or even reversed by our wizards, then you, Master, could claim credit for 'solving' the problem. No one from the Conclave need know about the crisis our college is facing-or that we participated in an expedition headed by Eilistraee's priestesses. And if the other Masters do find out, well…" Q'arlynd shrugged. "It's always been my experience that asking permission after the fact is easier."

Master Seldszar's eyes closed. His lips worked silently as he gestured. Motes of pale green faerie fire sparkled momentarily on his closed eyelids. For a moment, his face was gray and taut. But when his eyes opened again, they held a look of resolve. "We will do as you suggest. Send a small force of wizards. Not an army."

Q'arlynd frowned slightly. Who'd said anything about an army? Nevertheless, he was pleased. Once again, he'd proved his worth. The problem would be dealt with-and he could get back to his experiments.

He inclined his head toward the door. "Shall I call Miverra back in?"

Master Seldszar's eyebrows rose. "'Miverra?' Not, 'Lady Miverra?'"

Q'arlynd swallowed. He resisted the urge to close his fingers over the scar in his palm that marked him as having taken Eilistraee's sword oath. "I-"

"Just as well. She trusts you. That should prove useful."

" 'Useful?'" Q'arlynd had a bad feeling about this.

The master's eyes flicked back to his crystal balls. "You'll be going, of course. On the expedition."

No! Q'arlynd silently moaned. I can't! Not now!

His mouth felt dry. If the priestess's scouting expedition failed and the College of Divination fell, he would lose valuable time. Time that might be used to unlock the secrets of the kiira and learn spells that would impress the Conclave. But he could hardly tell Master Seldszar that.

The master's eyes flicked down to Q'arlynd. "Is there a problem?"

"No. Of course not. It's just…" Q'arlynd hesitated. Master Seldszar had overlooked the glaringly obvious, yet how was Q'arlynd to word his reply without giving insult?

Q'arlynd chose his words carefully. "Perhaps I'm missing something. I would have thought that the party would consist of our non-drow wizards. Humans, surface elves-diviners whose magic won't be compromised by the augmented Faerzress."

Master Seldszar smiled. "Obviously, it will have to include them. But there is, as you pointed out, this little matter of 'trust.' Will non-drow truly care about solving our problem when they aren't affected by it personally? Should divination become impossible for drow, the talents of non-drow diviners will become immensely valuable. They may secretly be hoping that our college falls. They're the only possibly candidates for this mission, but who will keep an eye on them? Who can I 'trust'? The choice is obvious: Eldrinn. He'll be in charge of the party-and you'll be there to back him up. The majority of your spells, as I recall, are non-divinatory and will be unaffected by Faerzress energy. Correct?"

"It is as you say, Master Seldszar," Q'arlynd admitted grudgingly.

Seldszar returned his attention to his crystal balls. "Call Lady Miverra back in and convey my decision to her. As soon as our mages are assembled, they'll depart with her, whenever she's ready to go."

As Cavatina strode into the Cavern of Song, all eyes turned toward her. After nearly two years of this, she should have gotten blase about the admiring looks, yet they still filled her with a rush of pride. Her chin lifted and her shoulders squared. A smile played about her lips as her fellow priestesses either inclined their heads to her or bowed deeply, their marks of respect indicating how recently they'd left the customs of the Underdark behind. Their voices swelled, filling the cavern with a joyous sound.

Like the other priestesses, Cavatina was naked, save for her sword belt and the holy symbol that hung about her neck. She drew her sword and pointed it at the spot on the floor where Eilistraee's shimmering moonfire was brightest, marking the current location of the moon in the world beyond the Promenade. As she sang, she watched colorful waves of moonfire flow across the floor like ripples on a pond. They washed over the two dozen or so priestesses gathered there, and bathed in radiance the statue that dominated the cavern, a monument to the temple's founder and its high priestess.

The statue showed a youthful Qilue as she was imagined to have stood at the moment she defeated Ghaunadaur's avatar, her singing sword raised above her head in triumphant salute to the goddess. In fact, Qilue had collapsed immediately after that battle, spent and near death after Eilistraee used her body as a conduit for Mystra's silver fire.

Elsewhere in the Promenade, stone carvers were hard at work on a similar statue, this one commemorating the slaying of Selvetarm. When complete, it would be erected in the cavern that housed the Protectors' living quarters. It would show Cavatina, Crescent Blade in hand, delivering the blow that had severed the demigod's neck.