silence of the night broken only by soft footfalls on the forest floor and the constant pattering of the rain - which did indeed slacken noticeably as they went on, giving way to a partial over-cast through which stars on occasion appeared.
Halisstra had had about all of the World Above that she cared to endure, but she occupied herself by quietly working at the knots of the rope binding her hands while keeping an eye on her captors, hoping they would relax their vigilance. Xarra, the drow, walked in front, while Feliane marched at the rear. Seyll stayed close by Halisstra at all times, either a little before her or a little behind.
"Where are you taking me?" Halisstra asked as the walk dragged on.
"A place we call the Dancing Stone," Seyll answered. "It is sacred to Eilistraee."
"The forest looks all alike to me," said Halisstra. "How can you tell one part of it from another?"
"We know this trail well," Seyll replied. "In fact, we're not all that far from where we first encountered you and your companions. They aban-doned you, and haven't been seen since that night."
Halisstra took a sip from her own flask to hide the smile that flitted across her features. The apostate priestess had made a mistake, and she didn't even realize it. If they weren't far from where she'd been captured, it stood to reason that she could follow the directions of Pharaun's vision from there and have a reasonable chance of locating the Jaelre drow. Regardless of what else she accomplished that night, it had already been worth her while.
They came to a loud, rushing creek, its bed strewn with large boul-ders. Xarra crossed first, leaping lightly from rock to rock and continuing into the woods on the far side, keeping watch for any danger. Seyll fol-lowed, a few steps ahead of Halisstra, her eyes on the uncertain footing beneath her. Halisstra started to follow. The rushing water was loud, even though the creek was shallow and not at all wide. The moon slipped behind the clouds, momentarily darkening the forest floor.
Halisstra scented opportunity.
She quickly hopped two rocks into the stream and halted, as if study-ing her next step. Instead she pitched her voice low and began abae'qeshel song, the sound covered by the noisy creek. Seyll continued to pick her way ahead, and behind Halisstra the surface elf Feliane stopped, waiting for her to cross.
It was difficult with her hands bound, even as loosely as they were, but the power of the enchantment was in Halisstra's voice, not her hands. Even as Feliane lost patience and hopped forward to aid her, Halisstra turned around and fixed her red eyes on the pale girl's face.
"Angardh xorr feleal,"she hissed. "Dear Feliane, would you draw your sword and free me of these troublesome bonds? I am afraid I will fall."
The charm ensnared the young priestess easily. With a blank expres-sion, she drew her blade.
"Of course," the elf murmured vacantly.
She drew the razor edge carefully through the cords on Halisstra's wrists. Halisstra glanced over her shoulder at Seyll and carefully moved to shield Feliane's work with her body.
"What's wrong?" Seyll called.
"Don't answer," Halisstra whispered to the girl. She kept her hands to-gether and turned carefully to face the priestess. "A moment!" she called. "I'm not certain of this step with my hands bound. The next rock seems slippery.
Seyll glanced at the creek, then retraced her steps, leaping one rock to the next as she came back toward Halisstra and Feliane. Halisstra twisted to look back at Feliane, standing behind her with her sword drawn.
"Dear Feliane," she said sweetly, "may I borrow your sword for a moment?"
The girl frowned slightly, perhaps aware somewhere in the depths of her enchantment-fogged mind that something was not right, but she extended the sword's hilt to Halisstra. Again concealing the movement with her body, Halisstra took the blade in her hand.
"Here," said Seyll. The Eilistraee priestess reached the next boulder and set her feet carefully, extending a hand. "Take my arm, and I will steady you."
Halisstra spun with the quickness of a cat and buried Feliane's sword beneath Seyll's outstretched arm. The priestess gasped in cold shock and crumpled at once, slipping from her perch to fall awkwardly in the icy stream. She slumped down the moss-covered boulder and came to rest leaning against the stone, sitting waist deep in the rushing water.
Halisstra withdrew the sword and turned back to Feliane, who stared at her with dumb amazement.