missionaries into the Underdark, carrying the faith of Eilistraee to the drow who dwelled below. The tiny swords would have been handed out to the faithful, to serve as "keys" that would ensure them safe passage to the temple.
"Did she tell you what attacked her?" Halisstra asked.
Rollim frowned and replied, "Not 'what,' Lady, but who. When she was telling her story, she used the sign for 'she.' The sign that means 'drow female.' "
Halisstra winced.
"Did you see any sign of this other drow?" she asked.
"None," Rollim said. "There was only the Dark Lady's footprints - and we didn't dare go into the cave. The other must still be below."
"Stabbed in the back," Halisstra muttered, staring down at the priestess. "How typical."
Behind the two men - both had their backs to the spot where Ryld was hidden - she saw dark hands briefly flash:Or else aban-doned to fight alone.
Even though Ryld's face was no more than a shadow under the hood of hispiwafwi,Halisstra could see he was scowling.
"Not stabbed," Baeford interjected. "There wasn't a mark on her." He glanced apprehensively down at the body of the priestess. "It must have been magic that killed her."
Rollim ran a heavily callused hand through his hair, which was damp with sweat and dotted with sawdust. "A normal injury, we might have been able to do something about - we could have splint-ed a broken bone or stanched the bleeding of an axe cut. But this - " he shuddered - "She died as we were lifting her onto the cloak."
Halisstra nodded. "You did well to bring her here," she told them. "I'm sure the priestesses will reward - "
"They already have," Rollim said. He raised his right hand, palm up, toward the sky in a reverential gesture, then let it drop to his side. "If it wasn't for the Dark Ladies, Baeford wouldn't be alive today. He had the pox soon after his birth and nearly died, but Eilistraee healed him." He glanced at the dead priestess, and his expression grew grim. "I only wish we'd been able to repay that kindness."
Baeford - whose face did have pock marks - shuffled his feet nervously.
"Lady," Baeford asked, "shall we carry her to the sacred circle?"
He looked as though the last thing he wanted to do was pick up the body again.
"No," she answered. "I'll take her. You may go."
"You'll carry her alone?" Rollim asked, eyebrow raised.
He bowed hurriedly when he saw Halisstra's frown. She still didn't appreciate a male questioning her authority.
"As you wish," Rollim quickly said. Then, to his son, "Come, Baeford. We've done all we can."
As they left, Ryld slid silently out of the branches.
Should I follow them?he signed.
Halisstra shook her head.
"No. There's something amiss here, but though the younger one could sense it,he doesn't know what it is. Whatever it is, they weren't the cause of it."
She knelt beside the body and studied it, shifting it slightly to observe the woman's back. As Baeford had said, there were no obvi-ous signs of injury. The priestess's skin was unbroken, and her tunic and boots showed only normal travel wear. Just as all of Eilistraee's priestesses did - especially when venturing into the Underdark - she wore a chain mail shirt. Its links were undamaged, and her sword was still in its scabbard.
On an impulse, Halisstra grasped the hilt and tugged. The sword slid out of its scabbard easily, its blade keen and bright - had it been used, it might have been sticky with blood. As Halisstra reached once again over the dead woman to resheath the weapon, her face came close to that of the priestess. Detecting a faint but acrid odor, she bent closer and sniffed. The smell was a distinctive blend of the sulfuric fires of the Abyss combined with rotten spiderweb.
Halisstra swore softly, "Eilistraee protect us."
"What is it?" Ryld asked, tense.
"She was killed by a yochlol," Halisstra said. "I can smell its stink on her skin and hair."
Silver flashed as Ryld drew his greatsword. He assumed a ready position, eyes darting around the forest.
"Do you think it followed her?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"I doubt it."
As she spoke, Halisstra pried open the dead woman's mouth. The priestess's jaw opened easily. She had not been dead long. As Halis-stra had suspected, the smell was stronger when the woman's mouth was open. The yochlol must have assumed gaseous form and flowed into the priestess's lungs, choking her and rendering her unable to retaliate with either sword or spell. Which meant