war of the spider queen 4 extinction-第34部分

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　could　give。　She　longed　to　let　it　claim　her；　to　drift　among　her　memories　until　they　soothed　her；　but　she　couldn't　give　up　her　search。　Exhausted　though　she　was；　she　would　master　the　spell　before　she　rested。　But　the　bitterly　cold　wind　seemed　to　snatch　away　the　notes　and　fling　them　into　the　night；　scattering　her　efforts　like　dead　leaves　in　a　wind。
　　　Lowering　the　songsword；　Halisstra　stared　at　the　scraps　of　bone　and　rusted　metal　that　protruded　through　the　snow　all　around　her。　Centuries　before　an　army　had　taken　the　field　against　a　foe　who　counted　dragons　among　their　allies。　Knowing　that　they　would　almost　certainly　be　defeated；　those　soldiers　had　nonetheless　marched　bravely　into　battle…and　been　slain。
　　　Centuries　later；　at　the　urging　of　a　dead　priestess；　Halisstra　was　about　to　face　even　more　impossible　odds。　It　was　madness　to　think　that　she　could　defeat　a　goddess。　Even　armed　with　the　Crescent　Blade…assuming　she　could　find　it…Halisstra　would　surely　be　defeated。　Lolth's　power　was　unimaginably　vast　and　all　enpassing；　no　one　could　escape　her　web　of　destruction　and　vengeance。　Halisstra　was　foolish　to　even　think　of　trying。
　　　Perhaps　it　would　be　better　if　she　didn't　find　the　Crescent　Blade。
　　　Suddenly　Halisstra　sensed　someone　looking　over　her　shoulder。　Someone　whose　breath　came　in　thin；　chill　gasps。
　　　Startled；　she　sprang　to　her　feet；　songsword　in　hand。　She　whirled　but　saw　no　one。　Quickly；　she　sang　the　spell　that　would　allow　her　to　see　invisible　creatures。　The　few　flakes　of　snow　sharpened　as　the　air　took　on　a　magical　shimmer；　but　still　she　saw　nothing。
　　　Then　a　ghostly　figure　materialized　right　in　front　of　her。
　　　It　was　a　drow　female；　but　one　who　had　been　horribly　disfigured。　Long　white　hair　clung　in　straggling　clumps　to　a　scalp　that　was　puckered　with　deep　pits；　and　her　face　was　terribly　burned。　Where　the　nose　had　been　was　nothing　but　a　gaping　hole；　and　the　eyes　were　likewise　missing。　Skin　had　bubbled　in　enormous　blisters　on　the　face　and　on　those　portions　of　the　arms　and　legs　that　were　bare。　The　torso；　thankfully；　was　hidden　by　a　chain　mail　tunic；　but　the　metal　links　were　corroded　and　loose　as　though　the　armor　had　been　hurled　into　a　lake　of　acid。
　　　Halisstra　clutched　the　broken　songsword；　heart　pounding；　wishing　desperately　that　she　held　a　better　weapon。　The　ghostly　figure；　however；　made　no　threatening　moves。　Instead　it　stooped　and　reached　for　something　on　the　ground：　Halisstra's　brooch。　As　it　did；　a　medallion　that　hung　from　its　waist　by　a　metal　chain　swung　forward。　Like　the　chain　mail；　the　medallion　was　blackened　and　pitted；　but　Halisstra　could　see　a　faint　trace　of　the　design　it　once　bore：　Eilistraee's　symbol。
　　　Halisstra　glanced　at　the　corroded　sheath　at　the　figure's　hip…a　sheath　that　was　curved　like　a　crescent　moon。　Slowly；　she　lowered　her　sword。
　　　〃You're　Mathira　Melarn；〃　she　whispered。
　　　The　ghost　nodded。
　　　〃I'm　looking　for　the　Crescent　Blade；〃　Halisstra　told　the　ghost。　〃Will　you　help　me？〃
　　　Once　again　the　figure　gave　a　slow；　mournful　nod。
　　　〃Where　is　it？〃　Halisstra　asked。
　　　The　ghost　opened　its　mouth；　but　all　that　came　out　was　a　gurgling　groan。　The　tongue　was　missing；　burned　away　by　the　acid　that　had　consumed　the　rest　of　the　woman's　body。　The　wyrm　that　had　killed　her　must　have　been　a　black　dragon。　Halisstra　shuddered　at　the　thought　of　the　agonies　its　acid　spittle　must　have　wrought　upon　the　priestess　in　the　moments　just　before　her　death。
　　　Can　you　sign？　Halisstra　asked。
　　　In　answer；　the　ghost　let　Halisstra's　medallion　fall　to　the　ground　and　raised　hands　that　were　lumps　of　pitted　flesh；　the　fingers　burned　away　to　skeletal　stubs。　Then；　turning　stiffly　as　if　still　suffering　the　agonies　of　her　wounds；　she　motioned　with　one　arm　in　a　gesture　whose　meaning　was　clear　enough：　e。
　　　Halisstra　glanced　at　her　House　insignia　and　saw　that　the　ghost's　touch　had　left　it　pitted　and　blackened。　Not　wanting　to　touch　it；　Halisstra　left　the　medallion　where　it　lay　and　followed　the　ghost。
　　　
Chapter　Thirty
　　　When　Ryld　saw　the　metal　object　peeking　out　of　the　snow；　he　thought　it　was　another　bit　of　battlefield　debris。　Corroded　and　pieced　with　black　spots；　the　brooch　looked　centuries　old。　Then　the　shape　of　the　piece　caught　his　eye。　Quickly　he　stooped　to　pick　it　up；　then　winced　as　something　on　the　brooch　stung　his　hands。　Holding　the　brooch　by　the　edges；　he　sniffed；　and　caught　an　acrid　odor。　Acid？
　　　Turning　the　brooch　over　confirmed　his　guess。　Only　portions　of　it　looked　ancient。　The　clasp　on　the　back　was　undamaged；　and　sections　of　the　metal　were　still　brightly　polished。　It　was　no　battlefield　remnant。
　　　He　peered　at　it　more　closely；　trying　to　make　out　what　design　had　been　on　the　front　of　it。　When　he　at　last　confirmed　his　guess；　he　shuddered。
　　　It　was　Halisstra's　brooch…the　insignia　that　marked　her　as　a　noble　daughter　of　House　Melarn。　Something　must　have　surprised　her；　out　on　the　wind…blasted　plain。　Had　she　been　wearing　the　brooch　on　her　piwafwi？　If　so；　she　might　have　been　injured　when　whatever　had　aged　the　metal　had　struck　her。
　　　Searching　the　ground　carefully；　Ryld　saw　none　of　the　usual　signs　of　a　struggle。　Two　deep　footprints　and　a　mark　made　by　the　hem　of　a　piwafwi　showed　where　Halisstra　had　squatted　for　a　time；　and　a　confused　overlapping　of　footprints　showed　where　she　had　whirled　rapidly　around；　but　there　were　no　other　prints　in　the　snow。
　　　Had　she　been　attacked　from　above？　Ryld　imagined　a　black　dragon　swooping　down　on　Halisstra；　blasting　her　with　its　acid　breath；　and　shuddered。　But；　no；　that　didn't　seem　to　be　the　answer。　Aside　from　Halisstra's　footprints；　the　snow　was　undisturbed。　Flapping　wings　would　have　stirred　it　up　with　their　downdraft；　and　a　black　dragon's　breath　would　have　left　spray　marks　in　the　snow。
　　　It　must　have　been　a　ghost…perhaps　one　similar　to　the　officer　Ryld　had　encountered…or　some　other　noncorporeal　creature　that　had　startled　Halisstra。　Whatever　it　was；　it　seemed　to　have　done　no　more　than　destroy　her　brooch。　Halisstra　had　moved　away　at　a　walking　stride　in　a　straight　line　to　the　south。　The　trail　she'd　left　was　as　before；　normal　and　unremarkable。
　　　No　。。。　not　quite。　About　a　pace　to　the　right　of　Halisstra's　footprints　was　an　irregular　line　of　dimples　in　the　snow；　as　if　something　had　dripped　onto　it…but　not　blood；　Ryld　saw　with　relief　as　he　stooped　to　examine　them。　There　was　no　trace　of　red；　and　the　droplets　were　very　small。　Bending　closer；　he　sniffed　and　caught　the　same　faint；　acrid　odor。　Cautiously；　he　touched　a　callused　fingertip　to　one　of　the　holes；　held　it　there　a　moment；　then　jerked　it　back　when　he　felt　a　slight　sting。
　　　Acid。
　　　Wiping　his　finger；　he　considered。　If　Halisstra　had　run　into　a　malevolent　spirit；　it　certainly　had　a　strange　way　of　manifesting　itself。　Ryld　had　once　encountered　a　ghost　that　left　smears　of　blood　on　the　ground　wherever　it　walked…the　ghost　of　a　man　whose　throat　had　been　slit。　Had　the　spirit　that　confronted　Halisstra…assuming　that's　what　it　was…been　killed　by　acid？
　　　Whatever　had　made　the　droplet　trail　in　the　snow；　Halisstra　had　followed　it。　Her　footprints　overlaid　the　holes　in　several　places。　Grimly；　Ryld　followed　the　trail。
　　　It　didn't　lead　far。　After　about　five　hundred　paces；　Ryld　spotted　a　black；　gaping　hole　in　the　snowy　ground。　About　three　paces　across；　it　looked　as　though　it　had　been　punched　open　from　below。　A　scatter　of　rock　and　loose　earth　encircled　it。　Halisstra's　footprints　led　to　the　edge　of　the　hole；　paused…then　continued；　as　if　she　had　descended　into　its　depths。　The　trail　of　droplets　also　led　to　the　hole's　edge。
　　　Drawing　Splitter；　Ryld　crept　forward；　studying　the　ground。　The　hole　sloped　down　into　the　earth　at　a　gentle　angle。　Scuffs　in　the　snow　showed　where　Halisstra　had　placed　her　feet　on　the　slope；　but　the　droplets　ended　at　the　hole's　edge。　Whatever　had　led　her　to　the　hole　hadn't　gone　inside。
　　　Squatting　at　the　edge　of　the　hole；　the　weapons　master　used　the　point　of　his　sword　to　prod　the　debris　that　had　been　thrown　up　around　it。　The　soil　was　frozen　solid。　The　pit　had　been　created　some　time　ago。
　　　Cocking　an　ear　to　the　hole；　Ryld　listened；　but　if　Halisstra　was　moving　around　down　in　the　black　depths　it　was　impossible　to　near　her　above　the　moan　of　the　wind。　Snow　had　started　to　fall　again。　The　flakes　landed　feather…light　upon　his　head；　then　melted；　sending　trickles　of　icy　water　down　his　neck。　His　breastplate　was　cold　even　through　the　padded　tunic　he　wore　and　his　vambraces　creaked　each　time　he　moved　his　arms。　At　least　the　tunnel　would　provide　shelter　from　the　wind　and　snow。
　　　Clambering　over　the　lip　of　the　hole；　Ryld　cautiously　descended　the　slope。　Frost　on　the　floor　of　the　tunnel　made　the　footing　tricky　for　the　first　dozen　paces　or　so；　but　after　that　it　widened　out；　and　the　floor　was　clear。　As　his　eyesight　adjusted　to　the　darkness　inside；　he　saw　that　the　tunnel　forked。　One　path　led　off　to　the　left；　another　straight　down。
　　　Knowing　that　Halisstra's　only　means　of　levitating　had　been　her　brooch；　Ryld　chose　the　left　fork。　He　was　relieved　to　see；　after　a　pace　or　two；　six　pebbles　that　had　been　set　on　the　ground　to　form　a　triangle；　pointing　out　of　the　tunnel。　Halisstra　had　indeed　gone　that　way…and　she'd　left　a　marker　to　guide　herself　back　out。
　　　Ryld　walked　briskly　for　some　time；　following　a　more　or　less　horizontal　course　for　some　distance　but　not　in　a　straight　line。　Instead　the　tube　snaked　back　and　forth　in　a　series　of　wide；　gentle　turns；　often　doubling　back　over　itself　again。　At　each　of　those　junctions　Ryld　paused　and　searched　carefully　and　found　a　triangle　of　pebbles。　Thanks　to　Halisstra's　marks　he　was　able　to　make　good　time。
　　　Eventually　the　cave　veered　off　in　a　fairly　straight　line　for　nearly　a　thousand　paces；　only　to　abruptly　bend　downward　at　a　steep　angle。　There；　Ryld　paused。　He'd　been　trying　to　decide　what　would　have　created　such　a　sinuously　curved　tunnel。　He'd　once　seen　Pharaun　use　a　spell　to　bore　a　path　through　stone；　but　the　end　result　had　been　lance…straight　and　oval；　with　walls　whose　stone　looked　highly　polished。　The　tunnel　he'd　followed　Halisstra　into　was　round；　and　rougher；　with　occasional　jagged…edged　niches　that　looked　like　something　had　taken　a　bite　out　of　the　wall；　and　its　floor　was　littered　with　patches　of　loose　stone。　Bending　to　examine　one　of　those；　Ryld　saw　that　the　stones　were　rounded；　like　river　stones；　but　pitted。　Mixed　in　with　them　were　fragments　of　metal…scraps　of　armor　from　the　battlefield　above…that　looked　as　if　they　had　been　tumbled　in　a　stone…polishing　drum　filled　with　acid　instead　of　water。　The　edges　of　the　metal　were　smooth；　yet　the　metal　itself　was　deeply　pitted　and　crumbled　when　Ryld　stepped　on　it。
　　　Ryld　stood　again　and　tightened　his　grip　on　Splitter。　The　cave　hadn't　been　created　by　magic；　it　had　been　bored　through　the　rock　by　a　living　creature。
　　　He'd　been　praying　that　it　was　an　ancient　pathway；　and　not　freshly　made；　but　the　lingering　smell　of　acid　in　the　air　told　him　otherwise。　The　fact　that　the　odor　was　getting　stronger　the　farther　along　he　went　didn't　bode　well。　And　if　he　was　right　in　his　guess　about　what　kind　of　creature　had　made　the　tunnel；　Halisstra　shouldn't　have　been　facing　it　alone。
　　　Cautiously；　Ryld　picked　his　way　down　the　slope　ahead。　He　moved　slowly　at　first；　aware　that　any　tiny　avalanche　of　stone　caused　by　a　misstep　could　alert　the　creature　below　to　his　presence；　but　halfway　down　his　ears　caught　a　faint　noise：　the　sound　of　a　woman　singing。　His　heartbeat　quickened　as　he　recognized　the　voice　as　Halisstra's。　She　was　casting　one　of　her　bardic　spells…but　why？　Was　it　merely　in　preparation　for　what　was　to　e；　or　was　she　already　under　attack？　Grimly；　he　hurried　forward；　not　caring　that　his　feet　were　skidding　on　the　ever…steepening　slope。
　　　Ahead；　the　bottom　of　the　tunnel　opened　into　a　larger　space；　a　cavern　that　looked　as　though　it　had　been　formed　by　the　tunnel　coiling　back　upon　itself　several　times　in　succession　as　the　creature　created　a　nest　for　itself。　The　patch　of　floor　that　Ryld　could　see　was　dotted　with　puddles；　and　the　acid　smell　was　strong。
　　　Moments　later；　he　neared　the　bottom　of　the　slope　and　saw　that　his　guess　had　been　correct。　At　the　far　end　of　the　cavern　was　an　enormous　purple　worm；　larger　even　than　Ryld　had　expected…perhaps　thirty　paces　long。　It　was　coiled　like　a　snake；　its　head　lifted　and　mouth　gaping　wide；　acid　dripping　between　teeth　the　size　of　daggers。　Halisstra　stood　just　in　front　of　it　with　her　back　to　Ryld；　songsword　in　hand；　staring　the　monster　down。　The　charm　spell　she　was　singing　seemed　to　be　working。　The　worm　swayed　in　time　with　the　tune；　its　tiny　eyes　fixed　and　staring。　Ryld　felt　a　fierce　admiration。　Halisstra　was　the　epitome　of　a　drow　female：　strong　and　fearless；　capable　of　handling　any　threat。
　　　Wary　of　disturbing　her　magic；　Ryld　halted　at　the　bottom　of　the　slope。　He　managed　to　do　so　without　making　any　noise；　but　when　he　stepped　forward　into　the　room　his　ankle　twisted　as　an　acid…weakened　stone　crumbled　underfoot。　His　foot　slipped　into　a　puddle　of　fresh　acid…fortunately；　his　boot　leather　protected　him…but　the　slight　splash　alerted　Halisstra　to　the　fact　that　she　was　no　longer　alone　in　the　cavern。　Her　head　jerked　quickly　around…just　long　enough　to　see　who　it　was…and　a　startled　look　passed　across　her　face。　All　the　while　she　continued　to　sing　without　pause；　but　the　momentary　loss　of　eye　contact　with　the　purple　worm　broke　the　spell。　Whipping　its　head　from　side　to　side；　sending　acidic　spittle　flying　in　all　directions；　it　shook　off　the　effects　of　the　charm　spell。　Then　it　struck。
　　　Lunging　downward；　mouth　gaping　wide；　the　worm　descended　on　Halisstra。　She　barely　had　time　to　lift　her　sword　and　thrust　upward　with　it　as　her　head　and　shoulders　disappeared　into　the　worm's　mouth。
　　　Ryld　leaped　forward；　shouting　to　draw　the　creature's　attention。　He　saw　the　broken　point　of　the　songsword　thrust　jaggedly　out　at　an　angle　through　the　worms　cheek；　just　below　one　eye；　but　the　creature　seemed　unaffected　by　the　wound。　Even　though　Ryld　ran　forward　with　all　the　speed　his　magical　boots　were　capable　of；　the　worm　was　quicker。　Like　a　curtain　falling　the　mouth　continued　to　descend　upon　Halisstra；　engulfing　her　to　the　chest；　waist；　and　knees。　Then　the　terrible　purple…black　jaws　struck　the　ground　on　either　side　of　Halisstra's　boots…and　clamped　shut。
　　　Ryld　closed　with　the　creature　a　heartbeat　later。　He　swung　Splitter　with　all　of　the　strength　his　sinewy　arms　could　muster；　intending　to　cut　off　the　monsters　head；　but　in　that　instant　he　heard　Halisstra's　muffled　scream　from　inside　the　worm's　gullet　and　saw　a　bulge　moving　down　its　throat。　Worried　that　he　would　slice　Halisstra　in　two　as　well；　he　twisted　the　sword　aside　in　mid…swing。　The　blade　struck　a　coil　of　the　worm；　cutting　deeply　into　its　purple　hide　and　exposing　the　pinker　flesh　beneath。
　　　The　worm　writhed　in　agony；　uncoiling　with　such　swiftness　that　it　crashed　into　Ryld；　hurling　him　backward。　Anyone　other　than　a　master　of　Melee…Magthere　would　have　been　knocked　flat；　but　Ryld　had　been　trained　to　keep　his　footing。　One　of　the　first　things　he'd　learned　as　a　novice　was　how　to　roll　his　body　with　a　blow　and　use　feet；　knees；　and　elbows　to　spring　upright　again。
　　　As　the　worm　continued　to　thrash　he　rolled　nimbly　back；　then　leaped　forward　again　to　strike　a　second　blow　in　another　portion　of　the　worm's　body。　As　the　monster's　head　whipped