"It's about the slaves."

Teysa's certainty crumbled. She had come here with a mission. She would ask Mish'li about her crisis of faith and the priestess would have advice for her. She would arrest the long, slow slide of her faith and emerge renewed. As she tried to gather her thoughts and frame her question, her mind kept going to the shantytown she had seen outside the walls. She saw the bent-back old man ladling water into a rusted helmet. Agamor commands that I serve the ****, she thought, and that stiffened her resolve.

"What is happening outside your gates?" she asked. "The shantytown. Such a festering wound so close to your city. Is there a plague? Are they refugees?"

Mish'li sighed deeply. "Of a sort," she replied. "Lolth's decree is still debated, but parts of it are unambiguous. One of them said: no more slavery. The old houses fought, but they could see a web when they were caught in one. They freed their slaves, then dumped them out there. The Quorum passed new laws against sleeping on the streets. No homes, no possessions, nowhere to go... the freedmen cluster around the City. Some are looking for work. Others want **** against their old masters. Others are just too old and sick to leave." She curled her lip. "And there are predators, too. There was a **** a night in the camps until we started to post guards. Now it's just one every two or three nights. Robberies, rapes... the Church does what it can, but our resources are taxed, some of the clergy think that we shouldn't be wasting effort on non-drow. There have been disagreements. Fervent ones." She rubbed her chin. "I wish I could do something about it. I don't suppose you have ideas?"

Teysa wore an expression of horror. "You can't resettle them? Give them land or something?"

"Teysa, there's barely enough land here as it is. It's all owned by the old families, the big names of the Quorum. Even if we offered to buy it from them, if they heard we were planning to house former slaves they'd never sell. They can't own them, so they want them gone."

"What about the Basilica?" This was Aliara, her tone sneering. "You own a pretty nice chunk of property here. Why not give it up to them? Seems the Empress isn't using it anymore." Mish'li turned to her with a weary expression. "You jest, Aliara, but that would be seen as the biggest betrayal of all. This is holy ground. If we let slaves, even former slaves, sleep in the Empress's apartments, we'd have a revolt on our hands. Not to mention, the senior priestesses would never allow it. It wasn't in the revelation so as far as they're concerned the matter is done with. They've washed their hands of it."

"But we saw priestesses out there in the camp!" Teysa said. "They were handing out food and medicine!"

Mish'li nodded. "Yes. Many of my younger colleagues see the shantytowns as a personal challenge. Some of them just want converts, I'm afraid, but others are more humanitarian. In fact..." she stood up and gathered her skirts beneath her, "would you like to come with me? I'd like to introduce you to some people." She wore an enigmatic little smile, and despite her misery, Teysa found herself interested.

"Sure," she said. "Aliara?" The half-elf gave Teysa an appraising look that went on about a second too long, then nodded. "El'keth!" Teysa called, and the drider's head jerked upright. She had been admiring some of the artwork near the altar, but she snapped to attention at once and scurried over. "We're following Mish'li," Teysa explained. El'keth bowed deeply. "Thank you for allowing me in this sacred place, Mish'li," she said. "We do not have such beautiful depictions of She Who Spins Below in our home. They are truly inspiring."

Mish'li looked a little taken aback, but laid a hand on El'keth's nearest knee. "I'm glad you were able to see them, then," she said. "Lolth loves all of her daughters, El'keth. I would like to organize a mission trip to your warren when things have calmed down a bit. We are one people, we should be knit by one faith."

Imagine hearing that a year ago, Teysa thought. It seems like we take one step back for every two steps forward, but it's all worth it. It has to be. She remembered what had brought her here and her enthusiasm dampened. A light in dark places, Agamor. I am doing what you always commanded. Please, give me a sign... any sign.

"This way," Mish'li said. She beckoned them out of the chapel and through the vast pillared hall. They headed towards what appeared to be a tiny side-corridor. Of course, the scale of this place was deceptive; it was merely wide enough for all of them to walk abreast, and tall enough for El'keth to walk without stooping. Doors lined the walls, though most were open, revealing what looked like classrooms and dining halls. "This is where the novices dwell," Mish'li explained. "Those who are initiate in Lolth's church, but who have not yet attained rank." She paused and pushed open one of the few closed doors.

The room on the other side was long and low. A series of hearths set in the back wall provided enough light to see by and kept the temperature just above a comfortable level. Half of the room was given over to workbenches, the other half to an enormous kitchen. The clangor of pots and pans was audible even at a distance. Every foot of space at the benches was packed. Young drow women in unadorned robes hunched over them. Some were sewing clothes, others were rolling bandages or packing strings of sausage in paper. Still others were packing crates with loaves of bread, jugs of wine and salted meat. Figures streamed back and forth from the kitchens, carrying bread, cheese and meat. A few priestesses in more ornate robes stood among the chaos, directing it and calling out instructions. "These are the novices under my direction," Mish'li said, raising her voice to be heard over the din. "I have them working three hours out of every day on relief. It teaches them humility, and that the purpose of the Church is to serve." She walked along the bench, inspecting the novices' work. They parted before her like fish swimming away from a predator. "You. What is your name?" she asked, laying her hand on the shoulder of one of the novices.

The girl pulled her hood back and looked up. She was shockingly young, barely more than a child, and her white hair had been cropped so close to her head that it looked like chalk dust. "Jya'ko, milady," she said. Mish'li kept her tone stern and asked, "Jya'ko, what is the Sixth Precept of Service?"

Jya'ko's lips moved as she thought. "To serve one another is to serve Mother Lolth. We must work to preserve the world she has made."

"Very good." Mish'li smiled. "We take the daughters of nobility, former soldiers, the poor and hungry... anyone who can commit their lives to their Goddess, we will take." She beckoned for Teysa to follow her. "You may go back to work, Jya'ko."

Teysa and Mish'li made their way through the throng to the kitchen. El'keth hung back near the entrance; the room was simply too cramped for her to maneuver well, and Aliara stayed with her. Teysa looked around in wonderment. The kitchen was a roaring, steam-filled vision of hell. A burly priestess with arms like tree trunks yelled orders to a cloud of frightened novices, punctuating them with wild gestures with a butcher knife. A group of three novices struggled under the weight of a boned and jointed cavebeast wrapped in wax paper. All communication was at a minimum of a shout and took place in all directions at once, so that the place echoed like the inside of a bell. Mish'li shouldered her way past a group of vegetable-chopping novices towards a vast bank of sinks. Soapy water cascaded over the floor and the acrid smell of lye soap assaulted Teysa's nostrils. "Where are we going?" she yelled.

"We teach them humility through labor!" Mish'li yelled back. "They have to learn that true service can be messy!"

She stopped behind a robed novice hunched over the sink. Her sleeves had been rolled back, revealing arms already scrubbed raw by the hot, soapy water. The novice held a brush in one hand and scraped it vigorously back and forth along a giant serving dish. She did not stop when Mish'li arrived, nor did she acknowledge her presence in any other way.

"Novice," said Mish'li, "why do you serve?"

The novice's reply was washed away by the din of the kitchen. Mish'li smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Lay down your labor for a moment, sister, and speak up. Why do you serve?"

"Because service is the highest calling. Through each other we become whole." The novice turned and lifted her head. Her hood fell back and Teysa's breath caught in her throat. She would never forget that face. Those lips, that thin, aristocratic nose, those heavy-lidded eyes most of all. The last time she had seen this face, it had been looming over her, demanding more, harder, deeper. The madness was gone from those eyes now; they widened in sorrowful recognition. The novice's features were so youthful, so unlined, that it was hard to even remember what they looked like twisted in a grimace of hatred and contempt. Teysa drew back involuntarily, and the novice replaced her hood and bent over the sink.

As they left the kitchen, Mish'li laid an arm on Teysa's wrist. "I wanted to show you the changes that you've wrought. An old empire can learn new tricks. Things are ugly now, but they were ugly before, too. It was just hidden better. Things are going to get better. Keep your faith."

Teysa hesitated. She wasn't going to get a better chance than this.