who worshiped the “Masked Lady” and wore a sword-shaped pendant in addition to his black mask.
Suddenly the name came to her. “Naxil!” she shouted.
Eilistraee’s magic filled her. His mind touched hers. Alert. Questioning.
A construct is coming your way. A plate-sized gold crab. Halt it, but don’t destroy it. Qilué will want to examine it.
His reply was tense, excited. I see it!
Leliana ran on, turning right, then left, then right again. She passed the first of the tunnels that led back to the Sargauthback to the cavern the crab had scurried into after climbing out of the river. This first tunnel followed a laborious, winding path, but there was a shorter route just ahead. She turned into this second tunnel, and at last reached the cavern that overlooked the river. It was empty. She stood, panting, looking around for the Nightshadow.
Which way had he gone? Three different corridors led from this cavern to the maze of corridors beyond. She bent to inspect the floor, hoping the crab might have left a dribble of water that would show her which corridor it had entered.
Naxil emerged from the third tunnel, startling her. “Dark Lady,” he panted. “My apologies. The construct escaped.”
He met her eye unflinchingly as he delivered the bad news. For someone who’d left Eryndlyn behind only a year agowho would still have the matron mothers and their ways fresh in his mindNaxil was refreshingly bold.
“Where did you last see it? Show me.”
Naxil spun and pointed. “This way.”
He led her down a corridor that dead-ended, and pointed at the blank wall. “There.”
Leliana examined the stone. It was utterly smooth, worn down by the oozes and slimes that had slithered through this area for centuries, prior to Qilué and her companions cleansing this place. There were no crevices into which the crab construct could have scuttled, no cracks in the floor or chimneys in the ceiling.
“Are you certain it didn’t double back? Get past you?”
“I’m certain. It ran to this spot and … vanished.”
“A portal,” Leliana concluded.
Naxil nodded. “Must be.”
Leliana sang a prayer and passed her free hand over the wall. She didn’t expect her hymn to reveal anything: three and a half years ago, after the Selvetargtlin attack on the Promenade, these passageways had been carefully examined by priestesses more experienced in portal magic than she. The corridors had also been examined by mundane means: the Promenade’s lay worshipers included several rogues who were adept at detecting hidden doors and passages. Even so, the construct had to have gone somewhere.
A flicker of Faerzress blossomed on the wall next to Naxil, momentarily washing his face with a faint blue glow. He was a handsome maleyoung enough to be Leliana’s son, and in his physical prime. Later, when things were quieter, she just might take him. With his permission, of course, she reminded herself. Since her redemption, she’d played by Eilistraee’s rules.
“Dark Lady?” Naxil asked. “Should I return to my post?”
“Not yet.” Leliana sheathed her sword. She wanted to check the corridor one last time, to gather as much information as she could before reporting to the battle-mistress. “And call me Leliana.”
She squatted to inspect the floor. As she ran her fingers across it she felt a slight tugging. It was almost as if the floor were a lodestone, exerting a pull upon the rings she wore. Yet neither ring should have been drawn to a lodestone. Her shield ring was platinum, and the one next to itthe ring that allowed her to levitatewas gold.
Just like the construct.
The pull suddenly intensified. Her hand jerked downŹward and touched the floor. She saw Naxil stagger sideways and felt her stomach lurch. A glow surrounded them: a golden circle in the floor, centered on the spot where Leliana crouched.
“Mother’s blood,” Leliana swore. She leaped to her feet and drew her sword.
They were no longer in the corridor. The portal had actiŹvated, sending them somewhere else: a roughly oval cavern about a hundred paces wide, with a ceiling so low Leliana could have reached up and touched it. A multitude of hair-thin crevices criss-crossed the floor, walls, and ceiling, giving them the appearance of old, cracked pottery. The stone glistened slightly in spots, as if wet: probably condensation; it felt hot and moist in here.
Leliana could see three exits, all of them natural tunnels. Two led off into darkness; from the third came a dull red glow. Warmth flowed out of it, stirring the air and filling the cavern with the smell of molten stone.