Q'arlynd pretended to applaud. "Well done, Eldrinn! You'll convince them you're a mere apprentice, yet." He winked at Gilkriz while pointing at Eldrinn. "A word to the wise: don't turn your back on this one. He's already fooled you once."

This time, it was the diviners who laughed.

Karas followed the exchange out of habit; one never knew when a tidbit of information could become useful. However amusing the interplay between the mages, it was irrelevant. What mattered was that Karas accomplish the task the Masked Lord had set for them: putting a stop to whatever the Crones were doing. Not because the effects it had on divination-as far as the Nightshadows were concerned, anything that prevented others from spying on them was a good thing. No, it had to be stopped because the augmented Faerzress was luring the drow below. That was where, ultimately, they belonged-in the Underdark-but in order for the Masked Lord's plans to be fulfilled, the Nightshadows needed more time on the surface. They weren't yet strong enough to overthrow Lolth's matriarchies.

"Enough banter." He nodded down at the strongbox. "Let's get moving, before the Crones start to wonder where their voidstone is."

Cavatina expected to die. That didn't bother her. She had served Eilistraee long and well, and her soul would certainly join the goddess's dance for all eternity. But for the first time in decades as a Darksong Knight, she had failed. She, a slayer of a demigod, lay at the mercies of a demon. She was trussed up and helpless as a newborn babe, her holy symbol well out of arm's reach, lying in the dust where Wendonai had kicked it. That burned at her pride like a hot coal, impossible to ignore.

She stared up at the balor with a glare fierce enough that it should have withered him where he stood. "Go on," she gritted. "Get it over with. Kill me."

Wendonai chuckled. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunted, oily black smoke puffing from his mouth as he spoke. He slid his sword into the sheath on his back, extinguishing its flame. Then he squatted beside her, arms resting on his knees, wings folded. The slash in his midriff still gaped; that it had not healed told Cavatina she was within the Abyss-the only plane where a demon could be permanently destroyed. Wendonai didn't seem to be bothered by the entrails dangling from his wound, however, or the black blood that soaked the tangle of hair at his groin and dribbled onto the hard-packed earth below. He was too busy gloating.

Cavatina resolved to do one thing before the demon killed her. At the very least, she would alert the high priestess to Halisstra's treachery. She pretended to cough. It hid the name she urgently whispered: "Qilue."

"She can't hear you," the demon hissed. "Not unless I will it."

"Qilue!" Cavatina shouted. Her voice sounded strange. As if it were echoing back at her.

Qilue didn't answer.

Wendonai laughed.

Despite the residual heat of the whip that bound her, Cavatina felt a shiver slide down her spine. Qilue should have heard her name, even from the depths of the Abyss.

The high priestess's silence was more frightening than any demon.

Behind Wendonai, Halisstra groaned and flopped over onto her stomach. Unlike the demon, she was healing. Slowly, she drew her knees up under herself and used her arms to lever herself into a kneeling position. Turning her head slightly, she glanced sidelong at Cavatina through her tangle of hair. One hand twitched out words. I thought you would kill him. That's why I brought you here.

Cavatina didn't believe a word of it. Had Halisstra intended that Wendonai be slain, she would have warned Cavatina in advance-or at least hinted at it. No, Halisstra was truly in Lolth's thrall. The Lady Penitent had thrown away her final chance at redemption.

Halisstra was still signing: a single word that ended with the curved finger that turned it into a question. Attack? Her glance flicked to the demon.

Cavatina almost laughed. A little late for that. She was bound with magical rope whose heat was agony against her skin, a constant reminder of her humiliating plight. Even so, Cavatina nodded, disguising the gesture as a simple lifting of the head to glance down at her bound wrists. If Halisstra did attack the demon, it just might give Cavatina the moment she needed to roll across the ground to her holy symbol and grab it. Halisstra slowly rose…

The demon turned in her direction. "Down," he thundered.

Halisstra collapsed, whimpering.

Cavatina threw herself into a roll, but the demon grabbed her shoulder, halting her. He slammed her onto her back. The weight of his hand on her chest was like a boulder.

"For a Darksong Knight, you're not very smart," he told her.

Cavatina's eyes widened. She hadn't told him she was a Darksong Knight.

The balor smiled. "Oh yes, I can hear your thoughts. Both yours-and Halisstra's."

Was that so? Cavatina envisioned carving the demon into pieces. Slowly.

The balor laughed. "Halisstra bores me. You, on the other hand, I find amusing." He ran a lazy claw down Cavatina's naked body.

Cavatina knew he expected her to shudder under his touch. She kept her eyes on his, steeling herself, not allowing her flesh to so much as twitch.

"You don't frighten me," she said.

"I can see that." The demon lowered his blunt muzzle to her chest and sniffed. When he rose again, he was smiling. "Halisstra betrayed you. She delivered you into my hands. Tell me, priestess of Eilistraee, what will you do to her if you survive this?"

"The Lady of the Dance is infinitely merciful," Cavatina answered. "If Halisstra is truly repentant-"

"But she's not," Wendonai said. "You and I both know it. Remember, I can hear your thoughts. A moment ago, you hoped to reach your holy symbol. Just before that, you fantasized about spitting Halisstra with your sword. You would strangle her with your own two hands and commit her soul to the Abyss forever-if only she could be killed."

Halisstra, still cringing behind the demon, whimpered.

Cavatina said nothing. It was true. In its essence, if not in the exact details.

"Yes," the demon hissed through a jagged row of fangs. "It is, isn't it? There's a dark side to you, Cavatina, lurking just below the surface. One you work hard to suppress. A hardness. An inflexibility, born of pride."

Cavatina said nothing. She had every reason to be proud. Except, she thought ruefully, at this moment.

The demon leaned closer. "You cleave to the rules of your faith, but it's difficult for you, at times. Your temper sometimes… slips out. You enjoy the hunt, the kill. A little too much."

"I do as Eilistraee bids."

"Yes, but I can sense something that underlies this. The thing that drove you into demon hunting in the first place. An anger." The demon cocked his head. "Born of jealousy, perhaps? What could you, a Darksong Knight-the oh-so-proud slayer of Selvetarm-possibly be jealous of?"

Cavatina said nothing. She focused on her hatred of demons, of this demon in particular. She pushed everything else out of her mind. Shoved it into a dark corner, where Wendonai couldn't possibly find it.

"Oh, is that it?" Wendonai exclaimed, the mock surprise out of place on his bestial, leering face. "All this… just because you weren't redeemed?"

Behind him, Halisstra sat up. She leaned forward expectantly, staring at Cavatina.

"I am a priestess of Eilistraee," Cavatina said slowly. "I took the sword oath, just like any other priestess-"

"Not just like them," Wendonai said smoothly. "They were redeemed. You… merely took the oath."

Cavatina bristled. The demon was playing with her, yanking out her deepest fears and tossing them at her feet. She didn't have to take this. "I had no other patron deity before taking up Eilistraee's sword. I was born into the faith. Unlike the others, I didn't need to be redeemed. I had nothing to atone for."