war of the spider queen 4 extinction-第58章
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
he stone head and the name carved into its base had been roughly done； so it was still possible to make out the first letter： an M。 When Halisstra noticed the damage； she asked her mother whose bust it had been and how it came to be broken。 Her answer was a stinging slap across the face…a slap so hard it had split Halisstra's upper lip。 She could still remember her surprise…and the taste of her own blood。 Some questions； she'd learned； were better not asked。
Which had made her all that much more keen to have an answer。 And so； years later when she had bee a priestess； she'd used one of the spells granted by Lolth to satisfy her curiosity。 Under the spell's magic； the name on the ruined bust had blazed clearly： Mathira。 Discreet inquiries had uncovered a sliver of information about the woman； that she had fallen into disgrace and been forced to flee Ched Nasad a decade before Halisstra was born。 What her 〃traitorous act〃 had been； however； Halisstra had not been able to discover。 Eventually； having reached the end of the thread of family scandal she grew bored and let the matter drop。
〃So；〃 Halisstra said； half whispering； 〃Mathira must have fled Ched Nasad because she'd turned to the worship of Eilistraee。〃
〃And she came here；〃 Uluyara finished for her。 〃She rose through the ranks of the faithful to bee a Sword Dancer； and was the priestess who carried the Crescent Blade onto the Cold Field…and lost it。
And it was up to Halisstra to find it and to use it as Eilistraee intended； to kill Lolth。
It was all too much to be mere coincidence。 Halisstra saw the hand of Eilistraee in every step of it。 Who else but a goddess could guide the lives of mortals in so subtle a fashion； weaving together a plan that spanned centuries？ Halisstra was certain that； were she to try to back out of the quest； Eilistraee would find a way to steer her feet back onto her ordained path。
The thought terrified her。 At the same time； it also gave her hope that she might succeed。 She had to trust in the goddess…even though trust was something she had only just learned。 It still came only with difficulty。
One question； however； remained。
〃How do I find the Crescent Blade？〃 she asked。
Uluyara stared up at the moon and for several lone moments said nothing。 Then slowly； the words came。
〃You have magic that we do not…'dark song magic；' you called it。 Perhaps that is what is needed to bring the Crescent Blade back into the light。〃
Halisstra nodded and said； 〃There is a spell I was learning； before I left。 。 。 before Ched Nasad was destroyed。 The bard who was teaching it to me said it could be used to locate any object I could visualize。 If I'm able to cast it； I might use it to find the Crescent Blade。 If； that is； you could tell me where I should begin my search。 Where was Mathira when she disappeared？〃
〃She was last seen in Harrowdale；〃 Uluyara answered。 〃From there； she was to travel south to Scardale； then on to Blackfeather Bridge。 She could hardly go missing along so well traveled a road； and so we assumed she veered from it and became lost。 Mathira's business was urgent and perhaps caused her to choose a shorter route…to travel to Blackfeather Bridge in a direct line across the Cold Field； instead of circling around it by road。〃
Already Halisstra was deciding how to use her spell to best advantage。 She'd travel to Harrowdale； orient herself in the direction of Feather Falls； and march in as straight a line as possible； casting her spell every eight hundred paces…the limit of its range。
〃How big is the Cold Field？〃 Halisstra asked； picturing something the size of a large cavern。
〃Unfortunately； the Cold Field is widest from northeast to southwest；〃 Uluyara said。 〃It's open ground…so no more than a two…day march at a steady pace。 But it will be far from easy。 You'll be lucky to reach the other side of it alive。 Luckier still； if the ghosts that inhabit that bleak place haven't driven you mad long before you leave it。〃
〃Won't any of the other priestesses be ing with me？〃 Halisstra asked。
〃Most have already left to search for the yochlol that killed Breena。 The one or two who remain have other； equally pressing matters to attend to。 I don't know if they can be spared。〃
Halisstra's eyes narrowed； and she asked； 〃You don't really expect me to find it； do you？〃
〃It isn't that； child；〃 Uluyara answered softly。 〃It's just that some journeys must be taken alone。〃 Her gaze drifted up toward the tree…tops。 The singing had stopped。 Breena's body had been laid to rest。
The night air was cold； but Halisstra felt a fire begin to smolder inside her。
〃I'll find the Crescent Blade；〃 she vowed。 〃On my own。 I don't need help from anyone。〃
She turned and strode into the forest； back to the shelter she shared with Ryld。 Uluyara might not have faith in Halisstra； but there was one greater who did。
Eilistraee。
Chapter Twenty…eight
Valas waited； a kukri in each hand； at the end of the tunnel that Pharaun had bored through solid stone with his magic a moment before。 Perfectly smooth and slightly oval in shape； the tunnel was not quite high enough for Valas to stand fully upright。 He stood with shoulders hunched； his hair brushing the magic…warmed stone。
Pharaun； a pace behind him； chanted softly； holding the tiny seeds that were the spell's material ponent between forefinger and thumb。 The mage had prepared well over the course of the four days it took them to reach the portion of the Underdark that lay beneath Myth Drannor。 He'd already cast the spell several times； extending the tunnel until it was more than a hundred paces long。 If the rogue who'd told Valas about the portal had been accurate in his estimates； the distance between the corridor behind them and the vault they hoped to reach was close to that figure。 The next spell should see them through the intervening rock。
As Pharaun pleted his spell； flicking the seeds at the tunnel's end wall and pointing with his forefinger； Valas braced himself。 The stone before him shimmered； then seemed to melt away in front of Pharaun's finger； revealing a large room about ten paces ahead。 A rush of stale air came back along the tunnel； carrying with it the smell of dust and desiccated flesh。
Quiet as a spider； Valas crept forward and peered into the ancient treasure vault。 It was； as the rogue had described； immense。 Circular in shape； it was perhaps a hundred and fifty paces across and fifty paces high； with a domed roof whose ceiling was inlaid with intricate mosaics。 Those； wrought in polished pebbles…many of them semiprecious stones…depicted a number of the surface elves' gods； bows in hand with arrows nocked。 Portions of the mosaic had fallen away in spots where tree roots had grown down through the ceiling； bulging its masonry inward。 Chunks of stone and a scattering of earth lay on the floor below。 The gods that remained in the mosaic frowned down into the empty room as if angered by its decrepit state。
At floor level…about five paces below the tunnel in which Valas crouched…were three doors； set at equal distances from each other。 The one immediately below Valas and to his right looked as though it had been blasted off its hinges。 Thar was how the rogue and his panions had entered； after negotiating a corridor filled with more traps than a spider's nest had eggs。 Wisely； Quenthel…or rather Pharaun； who had subtly persuaded her…had chosen not to try that route。
Valas stared into the darkened room； listening intently。 Of the wraiths there was no sign； but that was not unusual。 Wraiths could pass through walls； and they might appear at any moment。 Nor was there any sign of the bodies of the rogue's panions。 Again； that was not surprising。 Risen again as wights； they probably left through the ruined door in search of fresh meat…only to be cut to pieces by the blade traps that lined the corridor。 Their stench； however； lingered in the still air。。。 or did it？
Glancing up at the ceiling again； Valas saw a skull nested in one of the tangles of tree root that bulged down into the room。 The vault must have been built under a gravey
