"Are you certain she's inside?" Laeral breathed.

Cavatina tensed. She wished Qilue had taught her human "sister" the art of silent speech. "I'm not certain of anything," she whispered back. "But the trail of corruption led this way."

Laeral would have to take Cavatina's word for it. Skilled in woodland lore the mage might be, but she lacked the training to detect the subtle signs of a demon's passage: a wilted leaf, a strand of web twisting in the rot-scented breeze, the scuff of a claw on bark. Cavatina had followed the trail through the jungle to this spot. Just ahead, through a thick screen of trees and vines, she could see a blur of white-the tangle of spiderwebs that draped a hill in the jungle. It reminded Cavatina of a trap spider's lair. From somewhere within came a sound like a harp. The notes were jumbled and shrill, and the tempo kept changing, as if the player were uncertain of the melody, rushing through some parts and struggling with others.

"Keep watch," Cavatina whispered. "While I pray."

Laeral cast a spell, and Cavatina felt a protective screen of magical energy crackle to life around them. She touched the holy symbol at her throat and hummed. "Eilistraee," she. implored in a voice no louder than a breath, "hear my prayer. Guide my footsteps through the dance that is to come, and answer my song. Is Lady Qilue within the ruin ahead?"

A voice, sweet enough to bring tears to Cavatina's eyes, sang into her mind. Yes.

"How can we get her out of there?"

Cavatina felt her goddess's hesitation. You can't.

Despair filled her. She heard Laeral's breath catch. The other female must have read the disappointment on her face.

"Is there no one who can save her?" Cavatina implored. "Not even you, Dark Maiden?"

A host of possible outcomes blurred through Cavatina's mind. She had a sense of pieces moving across a sava board too rapidly to follow, as some unseen force tested first this move, then that. At last they stilled. Eilistraee's reply came, in a voice tinged with a profound sorrow. If Ao so wills, it shall be.

Cavatina startled. What did Ao the Overgod have to do with this? As she pondered what Eilistraee's answer might mean, she felt the goddess slip from her mind, silent as a shadow.

Cavatina glanced up at the moon. Selune wore her half-mask this night, and seemed to be staring down at Cavatina. Waiting. Her cold scrutiny tempered Cavatina's determination. "Go," she whispered to Laeral, "swiftly, to each of Eilistraee's shrines. Gather as many of the priestesses as you can. We must perform the exorcism here."

Laeral glanced around the gloomy forest. The air was thick with the stench of rot and mold, and in the distance, the night twist tree wailed its anguished refrain. "But isn't this the worst possible-"

"This is where it must be done," Cavatina said grimly. "Eilistraee has decreed it."

Laeral stood. "What will you do while I'm gone?"

Cavatina nodded at the web-shrouded mound. "I'm going inside."

"Shouldn't you wait until-"

"There may not be time," Cavatina said firmly. "Besides, I hunt better alone."

Laeral nodded. "Keep me alerted to everything you see. Speak my name, and I'll hear what follows."

Cavatina agreed.

Laeral spoke an incantation that whisked her away.

Cavatina rose to her feet. Her first impulse was to stride in boldly and challenge whatever foes might be within, but then she glanced at the wooden sword in her hand and nearly laughed. No, she decided, sheathing it. She'd take a page from the Masked Lady's new songbook, instead. Slip in quietly, and scout around. If need be, she would sing moonfire into existence, and burn the place clean.

She sang a protective hymn, then a glamor that would screen her from sight until she chose to strike a blow. Her third prayer would allow her to slip through the tangle of webs unimpeded. She crept closer to the mound and eased her way into the tangle of web. The sticky silk slid past her body as if her skin were oiled. Just ahead was a haphazardly spun cocoon. Looking around, Cavatina saw dozens more, each of them easily large enough to contain a drow. Several bulged and rocked, as whatever was trapped within struggled to get free.

"By all that dances," Cavatina breathed. "This looks like Halisstra's handiwork!"

Was Halisstra still alive? After betraying Cavatina to the demon Wendonai, she had reappeared briefly atop the Acropolis, then vanished without a trace. That had been two years ago. No one had been able to learn where she had disappeared to-not even Qilue.

A sound within the cocoon next to Cavatina drew her attention. Over the discordant music coming from within the mound, she made out a muffled female voice: a word or two of song, then a struggling gasp, then another faint note of song. She was debating whether to tear the cocoon open when another of the cocoons turned slightly, revealing a partially rotten hand protruding through a gap in its side. A spider-shaped ring adorned one of the death-stiffened fingers: Lolth's symbol.

Cavatina sang a divination. A dim purple glow leaked out of the cocoons that were still twitching: the aura of evil. Cavatina's eyes narrowed. Did each contain one of Lolth's faithful? Had Halisstra turned against the Spider Queen?

The answers, Cavatina was certain, would lie within the mound.

She spoke Laeral's name, and whispered what she'd just seen. As she did, she stared at the cocoons, debating what to do. Four years ago, she would have reveled in slaying an evil deity's helpless faithful, but now she found the thought repugnant. She said a prayer for those inside, praying they might survive long enough to be cut down and freed by the priestesses Laeral would soon bring. "May you find redemption," she whispered, her fingers touching the cocoon in front of her.

She crept on through the tangle of webs, closer to the hill they covered. A tree near the base of the hill had fallen, its roots tearing a hole in the earth, and inside this gap lay an adamantine door. More webs dangled, like a curtain, in the empty doorframe. She slipped into a chamber with a depression in its black marble floor and blasphemous murals showing masked spiders. Drying blood was splattered everywhere. The metallic smell of it overwhelmed the stench of the cocooned corpses outside. The far wall held a mural of a spider with a drow head and a lesser spider dangling from each arm; the abdomen was a dark hole in the masonry. The harp music came from inside it.

Beyond the hole was a second, stone-walled chamber. Cavatina spoke Laeral's name again and described what she saw. Nine corridors radiated from the second chamber. The harp music came from the one in the middle of the rear wall. More murals adorned the walls of this chamber, but they were obscured by webs and ruptured egg sacs. Movements on the floor caught her eye. Thousands of tiny red spiders, none of them bigger than a drop of blood, coursed back and forth, scurrying first in one direction, then another. They seemed to be moving in time with the music-scurrying, then stopping, then moving in another direction again as its tempo and melody changed.

Cavatina smiled grimly. She liked a challenge. She sprang through the hole and ran through the chamber, leaping gracefully from one clear patch of floor to the next in an improvised dance. The spiders thinned once she was inside the corridor, allowing her to slow her pace. After a short distance, the corridor opened onto a third chamber. Cavatina, still invisible, peered inside, battling the urge to pinch her nostrils shut against the sulfurous smell within: the stench of demon.

The room was larger than the first two, and circular. It was dominated by an enormous, black marble throne, carved in the shape of an upside-down spider. Halisstra sat atop it, her clawed fingers plucking hair-thin strands of steel that stretched, like harp strings, between the throne's curled spider arms. The harsh twang of the music trembled through Cavatina's body, leaving a sludge of fear in its wake. Instinctively, she reached for her singing sword to ward off the music's effect. Her hand closed around a wooden hilt, reminding her that the singing sword was gone.