the cavern roof dropped so low there wasn't enough room for the boat.
Valas spent most of his time standing on the bridge beside the dwarf, keeping a careful eye on the course he steered. Pharaun sat cross-legged at the base of the structure, deep in Reverie, while Ryld and Jeggred kept a sharp watch on the port and starboard sides respectively, making sure that none of the lake's denizens approached undetected. The priestesses kept to themselves, wrapped in Reveries of their own or staring out over the lightless waters, lost in thought.
They passed almost two full days in that manner, pausing only briefly for austere meals or to let the duergar captain rest. Coalhewer was ex-traordinarily cautious about showing any kind of light and made them build their cookfires in a small, secluded fire-box that shielded the flames from view.
"There's too many things as are drawn by the light," he muttered. "Even this much may be dangerous."
After their third such meal, late on their second day of travel, Halis-stra retired to the bow of the boat so that she could look out over the waters and not find herself staring at one or another of her companions. In the furious battle to escape Hlaungadath, and the walk through the Plane of Shadow, she had had little time to embrace and understand her new circumstances. Empty hours of listening to the soft murmur of water and the insectlike clicking and scraping of the boat's skeletal engine had unfortunately failed to immerse her in activity, leaving her with the opportunity to replay the fall of Ched Nasad over and over again in her head.
What became of my House? she wondered. Did any of our servants and soldiers survive by escaping Ched Nasad? Are they together, and who leads them? Or did they all die amid the flame and ruin?
Matron Mother Melarn's death left Halisstra as the head of the House - presuming that none of her younger cousins had managed to claim leadership. If one of them had, Halisstra was certain she could wrest it away from her kinswoman. She had always been the most favored of the Melarn daughters, the oldest, the strongest, and she knew her cousins could not deny her her birthright.
But it seemed very likely indeed that her birthright was nothing more than ash and rubble at the floor of Ched Nasad's great chasm. Even if some part of her household had escaped, would she want to seek them out and join them in a miserable, squalid, and dangerous exile in the Underdark?
This was not how it was supposed to be, she thought. I was to ascend to my mother's place in time, and wield the power that had been hers and her mother's before her. The thousand strands of Ched Nasad would have met at my feet. My least desire I might have fulfilled with a word, a look, a simple frown. Instead, I am a rootless wanderer.
Why, Lolth? she cried out in her mind. Why? What offense did we give you? What weakness did we show?
Once Halisstra had heard the dark whispers of the Spider Queen in her heart, but that place was empty. Lolth chose not to answer. She did not even choose to punish Halisstra for the temerity of demanding an answer.
If Lolth had truly abandoned her, what would become of her if she fol-lowed her House down into death? All of her life, Halisstra had believed that her faithful service as a priestess and abae'qeshel to the Queen of the Demonweb Pits would earn her a high place in Lolth's domain after her death, but what would become of her now? Would her rootless spirit be interred with the other unfortunate souls no god claimed in the afterlife, fated to dissipate and die the real and eternal death in the gray voids reserved for the faithless? Halisstra shivered in horror. Lolth's faith was hard, and weak-lings had no place in it, but a priestess could expect that she would be re-warded in death for her service in life. If that was no longer true . . .
Danifae approached with sinuous grace and knelt beside her. She looked into Halisstra's face boldly, and did not lower her eyes.
"Grief is a sweet wine, Mistress Melarn. If you drink but a little, you are tempted to drink more, and things are never improved by over-indulging in either."
Halisstra looked away to compose herself. She did not care to share her secret horror with Danifae.