01 Sacrifice of the Widow by Forgotten Realms

Author:Forgotten Realms [Realms, Forgotten]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-10T15:25:18.959000+00:00

Q'arlynd watched from a distance as Leliana, Rowaan, and the other priestesses who had survived the drider attack stood under the tree and sang, completing their sacred observances for the six who had died at the judicator's hand. Normally, Rowaan had explained, the bodies of the faithful were lashed into a bier high in the treetops, but the judicator's magical attack had left nothing behind of those he had slain. The priestesses had been forced to make do with empty clothing and armor. These they had bundled and lain to rest in the bare branches of the trees to be washed by moonlight-"Eilistraee's tears." At the moment, however, the night sky was overcast. It wasn't moonlight that fell on the bundles in the treetops but snow. Q'arlynd had read about the stuff in books, but this was the first time he'd experienced it firsthand. It dusted his piwafwi like a thick layer of drifting spores-except that these "spores" of frozen water were cold and melted on contact with the skin. They soaked right through his piwafwi and into his shirt, making him shiver. He squinted as the wind blew snow into his eyes. Why he'd lingered to watch the singing, he couldn't say. He was still very much an outsider, despite having spoken the vows that had admitted him to Eilistraee's faith. Males weren't invited to join the sacred dances, nor could they lend their voices to the Evensong. Eilistraee granted magic to her priestesses only, and males could play but a supporting role, just as in Lolth's faith. Like mother, like daughter, Q'arlynd supposed. The song ended. The ritual was over. Q'arlynd waved at Rowaan, beckoning her over. She glanced at Leliana, who shrugged, then walked toward him, her boots crunching holes into the ankle-deep snow. Q'arlynd bowed his head as she approached. "Lady," he said. "May I ask a question?" "Call me Rowaan. We're all equals, in Eilistraee's eyes." Hardly, Q'arlynd thought. "What's your question?" Q'arlynd took a deep breath. As a boy, he'd once asked this question of one of Lolth's priestesses and gotten a thorough whipping in reply, but he was curious to know what awaited him in the afterlife, having accepted Eilistraee as his patron deity. "What was it like-being dead?" Rowaan was silent for several moments. "You want to know what awaits you in Eilistraee's domain." Q'arlynd nodded. "Do you remember much of it?" Rowaan smiled. "A little. I realized I was dead when I found myself standing, alone, in a place that was featureless and gray: the Fugue Plain. There were others around me-other souls-but I couldn't see or touch them, just feel them. Then I heard a voice." She blinked, her eyes shiny with tears. "An indescribably beautiful voice. It was Eilistraee, singing to me. Calling me. A rift opened in the gray, and a shaft of moonlight shone through. I moved toward it, but just as I was about to touch the moonbeam and ascend to the goddess, it was gone. I woke up in the forest, alive.

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