Rylla nodded in agreement with whatever she'd just heard, then turned to Cavatina. "There's no sign of the dretch in the Hall of Healing. Nor in the Cavern of Song. It doesn't seem to have made it past this point. Another of the portals must have become active."

"The real question is how it got into the Promenade in the first place," Cavatina said. "How did it get past our wards?"

Rylla stared at Cavatina. "You're the expert in hunting demons. You tell me."

Cavatina had a bad feeling about this. The dretch's sudden appearance was all too reminiscent of the Selvetargtlin onslaught of three and a half years ago, and their trick of using ensorcelled gems to jump to the Promenade. She wondered if another attack were imminent.

She glanced at the closest partition wall. Like the others, it was carved in low relief with the likeness of two archways-decorative arches only, since the middle of each was solid stone. There were eight, in total. Each had once been a portal, but the magic that had sustained them had faltered centuries ago, when Netheril fell. Only one of the arches was still active, and then sporadically. Once it sputtered to life, it might remain open for the space of a heartbeat-or for more than a month. It led to the Hall of Empty Arches from a deeper level of Undermountain that was once part of a dwarven mithral mine predating even Netheril.

The occasional adventurer blundered through this portal, usually badly battered and in need of healing by the time it opened. Qilue had thus decreed that it not be sealed. Those who agreed to abide by the rules of song and sword were offered healing in the nearby hall. Those who didn't were either blindfolded and removed from the Promenade-or, if they proved hostile, were put to the sword.

Rylla motioned for Cavatina to follow, then sang a hymn. She walked slowly through the room, her free hand briefly passing across the front of each of the arches. "Dead. Nothing. Still dead…"

Cavatina followed, sword at the ready.

Rylla passed her hand across the face of the portal that joined the ancient mine tunnel to the Hall of Empty Arches. She shook her head. "It's not active at the moment."

One arch remained to be checked: the one next to it. Rylla halted in front of this arch, holding her palm above it for several moments. Concentrating. Her eyebrows rose. "This one's active. In one direction only: away from here."

Cavatina leaned forward expectantly. Her sword hummed. A moment more, and the hunt would resume. "Where does it lead?"

"Nowhere. And-everywhere." Rylla lowered her hand. "My prayer revealed a maze of tunnels that were constantly shifting. Opening to infinity, then closing in again. I think it may lead to the Deep Caverns." She stared at the blank stone within the arch. "If the dretch went through here, it will be impossible to track."

"I can do it," Cavatina assured her. "The dretch must be captured and questioned. We need to learn who summoned it, and what they hoped to accomplish."

Rylla blocked her way. "Not so fast. It could take you a lifetime to track it down in there, and we need you here."

"I can find my way back from any-"

"You're staying here, in the Promenade. That's an order."

Cavatina was about to protest, but something about the look in Rylla's eyes halted her. The battle-mistress nodded at the arch. "The dretch didn't get in this way-that's a oneway portal." She turned. "How else might it have gotten into the Promenade?"

Cavatina fumed, but answered the question. "Dretches are weak. This one wouldn't have been able to breach the Promenade's defenses on its own. The dretch must have been summoned here-summoned by someone already inside the Promenade."

Rylla gave a tight nod. She'd already realized this much.

"Or perhaps it came here by means of a wish spell," Cavatina concluded, still thinking of the Selvetargtlin who had carried teleportation gems into the Promenade nearly four years ago.

Rylla's expression was grave. "I've ordered a full sweep of the temple, from the High House on down."

"Remind them to report any suspicious-looking gems."

"Already done."

"Have the Protectors located Meryl yet?"

"Yes, praise Eilistraee. She's unharmed."

Cavatina sheathed her sword. "Since you won't let me pursue the dretch, you might as well tell me why you summoned me to the Promenade. Did you have a premonition that a demon would show up here?"

"Yes, I did." Rylla's sending came a heartbeat later. I need to talk to you about Lady Qilue. That's why I sent for you. Something's… wrong with her.

Cavatina felt her eyes widen slightly. She opened her mouth to ask a question, and shut it again. She suddenly realized the dretch might be a symptom of a larger problem. It should have been impossible for it to enter the High House. Qilue's personal wards should have banished any creature of the Abyss back to the place it came from, the instant it tried to enter her residence-especially a minor demon like a dretch. If something was interfering with Qilue's ability to ward herself from a comparatively weak foe, Rylla had every right to be worried.

Cavatina nodded slightly, her eyes on the other priestesses. Rylla obviously hadn't shared her concerns with them. Is something eclipsing Lady Qilue's magic? Is that why the dretch-?

Later. In private.

Rylla turned to Chizra. "Guard this portal. Don't let anything-or anyone-near it. If we manage to flush another demon out of hiding, it may head this way. It may disguise itself, as the dretch did."

The Protector nodded grimly.

"Keep watch on each of the other portals as well," Rylla continued. "Even the inactive ones. We can't be certain of the status of any of them, any more. Give each guard a scroll that will enable her to seal the portal, if necessary."

Orders given, Rylla asked Cavatina to follow her. They made their way to the battle-mistress's residence, not pausing until they reached a sitting room furnished with three crescent-shaped benches that surrounded a scrying font. Tapestries on the walls showed ebon-skinned priestesses on the hunt, swords and horns in hand. Rylla's empty scabbard lay on a bench, next to her lute..

Cavatina spoke first. "What's wrong with Lady Qilue?"

Rylla turned-sharply-and raised a finger to her lips. No names, she signed.

The battle-mistress obviously didn't want Qilue eavesdropping on whatever it was she was about to say. Very well; Cavatina would play along. For now. "Battle-mistress, I report as summoned. You said you wanted my assistance in organizing the patrols of the Promenade. I'm happy to advise you on how the Protectors can best be-"

"That's enough," Rylla interrupted. "If she was listening, she'll have stopped by now." She sheathed her sword and continued to the scrying font. She stared into the alabaster bowl, moved her lips in a silent message, and passed a hand just above the surface of the water.

Cavatina struggled to hold her tongue. Her impulse was to tell Rylla she was being unnecessarily cautious. People spoke Qilue's name so frequently that it must have sounded like overlapping echoes to the high priestess. Listening in on everything that followed and trying to pick out the important nuggets from the endless drone of casual conversation would have been a full-time task. What's more, Cavatina had never known Qilue to answer by accident when her name was uttered. The high priestess only answered those who intended to call her.

Cavatina edged closer to the font and took a look. The scrying was focused on Qilue, who walked through a forest with half a dozen lesser priestesses in tow. Qilue stood head and shoulders above the rest, a majestic figure with her silver robes and ankle-length white hair. The sight of her filled Cavatina with reverential awe. Qilue had founded the Promenade, had lifted the worship of Eilistraee from an obscure sect to a force to be reckoned with. She'd made the faith what it was today. Every drow who had been raised from the Underdark over the past six centuries owed their redemption to her. Even though Cavatina had slain the demigod Selvetarm, she didn't rank nearly as high in the faith as Qilue.