What have you stopped for? Quenthel signed from behind Pharaun. Keep moving.
One of the vipers in the whip tucked into her belt gave a slight hiss.
Nodding his head, Valas led the way through the tunnel once more. As before, Pharaun was close behind him, continually peering over Valas's shoulder as if he was searching for something. Ryld, on the other hand, was constantly looking back the way they had come. Whenever Valas caught his eye, the weapons master would signal that he thought someone was following them. Valas had never seen him so jumpy before.
The first two times Ryld had done that, Valas had doubled back to check for himself, but there had been nothing: no sounds, no signs of pursuit. Thereafter he ignored Ryld's anxious glances behind them.
Since Halisstra had been sent back to Menzoberranzan there were only six of them left. Personally, Valas thought that was a foolish decision on Quenthel's part. He doubted that Halisstra would make it without Lolth's magic to protect her. But no doubt Quenthel thought the same. She probably hoped to eliminate a rival priestess who might claim credit for discovering what had happened to Lolth?assuming that a return to the Demonweb Pits was even possible.
For the hundredth time since Quenthel had announced her plan to have Pharaun summon a demon, Valas wondered how that was going to help. In all likelihood, the demon would turn on them and swallow them whole without guiding them a single step of the way.
He reminded himself that the lot of a mercenary was not to question how, but to do?and bow. And so he led them on. As he moved cautiously ahead into the unknown darkness. Pharaun still crowding close behind him, Valas fingered one of the magical amulets pinned to his shirt?his lucky, double-headed coin?and hoped it would give him the edge he'd need when the demon eventually turned on them, as he was certain it would.
Halisstra stood on the bluff that overlooked the ruined temple, staring out at the horizon. The others had descended into the Underdark some time before, and the sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, painting the clouds shades of pink and gold. Though it made her eyes water to look at the sunset, Halisstra stared in fascination, watching the colors shift into ever darker shades of orange, then red, then purple, gazing as new patterns formed each time the sun's slanting rays struck the clouds at a different angle. She was beginning to understand why the surface dwellers spoke in such rapturous tones about sunsets.
As the forest below darkened, her sight began to shift toward darkvision. She could see birds flitting through the branches below and could hear the thrumming of numerous wings as a flock of birds moved through the trees toward the bluff. She'd heard that surface-dwelling creatures followed the cycles of day and night, and it struck her that Ched Nasad's magic-controlled lighting and Menzoberranzan's famous pillar Narbondel?used for marking the passage of «day» and "night"?must have been holdovers from a distant time when drow still dwelt upon the surface. Had House Jaelre simply been following a call that other drow had not yet heard when they returned to the surface, forsaking the worship of Lolth?
The flock of birds had come closer, filling the treetops just below the bluff with strange whistling cries. One of them rose above the treetops, its wings beating so quickly they were a blur. Only when it was within a few paces of her did Halisstra recognize the «bird» for what it truly was. The furry body, the eight legs, the long, needle-shaped proboscis?all added up to a creature she hadn't realized was also a danger on the surface. Especially when there was not just one of the creatures flying toward her at the speed of an arrow, but dozens: an entire flock.
"Lolth help me," Halisstra whispered. "Stirges."
They were too close for a crossbow shot. Whipping out Seyll's long sword, Halisstra braced herself to meet the threat. Grimly, she realized her chain mail wouldn't be any help; the stirges' needle-thin noses would slip between its links.
As the first surge dived in to attack, Halisstra swung the long sword. It was still awkward in her grip, heavier than the blade she'd been used to. Even so, her blow connected, slicing the stirge cleanly
Then half a dozen of the creatures were on her.
For several frantic moments, Halisstra fended them off, killing two more with the sword and crumpling the proboscis of a third with a blow from the small steel shield she wore on her left arm.
She felt a piercing pain in her right shoulder as a stirge struck. A moment later, another plunged its proboscis into the back of her left leg, just behind the knee. The force of it caused her to stagger. Only by ducking frantically was she able to avoid the stirge lancing in at her neck. Whirling, she struck it with the sword as it flew past.
As still more of the creatures dived at her?nearly two dozen of them?Halisstra reached down with her shield hand and grabbed the stirge that had plunged into the back of her knee. She squeezed?and heard a satisfying pop as the creature's bloated midriff burst. Yanking it from her, she threw its body away, dimly noticing the spray of blood that had soaked her gloved hand. Meanwhile, the stirge in her shoulder continued draining her of blood.
The flock dived en masse, and four more stirges plunged into her flesh. One bit deeply into her left arm, two into her right leg, and the fourth into her shoulder, beside the one that was already greedily sucking away. Halisstra killed two more with the sword?which, with the air rushing through the holes in its hilt, was making constant, discordant noises like a badly played flute. Halisstra, rapidly losing strength as the stirges drained her of blood, suddenly shivered as she realized she might very well die there. Lolth was no longer watching over her, blessing her with the magic she needed to drive the foul creatures away. The only darksong spell that would affect so many creatures at once required a musical instrument as its arcane focus?and she could hardly pluck out a tune on her lyre and fight at the same time.
Then she realized something. Perhaps there was another instrument she could use, closer to hand. .
Abandoning her attempts to strike the stirges?there were too many of them?Halisstra reversed Seyll's sword and brought its hilt to her lips. Closing her eyes, she blew into the hilt, fingering the holes so the rush of air escaped through a single hole. Even though she sagged to her knees as blood loss weakened her, she felt magic flow from her lips into the hilt of the sword and out through the hole in a piercing blast. Her own ears rang, then went numb as a single note?sweet, high, and impossibly strong?shattered the air. All around her, stirges tumbled from the air as a magic blast hit them. Those on her body wilted, hung for a moment, then slowly slipped free of her flesh, hitting the ground around her with soft thuds.
In the silence that followed, Halisstra could hear only the sound of her own breathing. Opening her eyes, she saw dozens of stirges lying on the ground, some of them still twitching. She picked up the closest one and squeezed it. Its blood?her blood?soaked her gloves as its body burst. Dropping it, she continued from one stirge to the next, killing them one by one. Then she pulled off her blood-soaked gloves and cast them aside.
Perhaps the surface was not a place of beauty, after all.
Then she realized that something had disturbed the stirges?something that was moving through the forest toward the bluff where she stood. Hunkering down, she crept back toward the stairs, looking for a place to hide.
Valas signaled for the party to stop when the tunnel, which had been twisting its way ever deeper toward the Underdark, opened into a jumble of broken stone that led down to a medium-sized cavern whose floor was hidden by a deep pool of water. Pharaun gave a low chuckle, breaking the silence.