Chapter 3: Watches of the Night
Zak rubbed his tear filled eyes with the back of his hand and positioned the flint above the tinder again. "Don't cry," he told himself firmly. What was he doing wrong? The wind was cold on his face, it's sharp bite stinging his eyes. That was it! The wind! He had to put his back to the wind! Zak shifted position, cramped leg muscles protesting, and tried again. This time the sparks showered down over the tinder and it began to glow. Zak blew gently and soon had a small flame. He carefully added some tiny twigs, then small sticks, and finally bigger ones. The flames licked them up and he continued adding larger and larger sticks and finally an entire tree branch. Soon the clearing grew warm and bright. "Thank you Mielikki," Zaknafein whispered, looking up at the darkened sky.
Now Zak went back and forth, gathering as many dry sticks and branches as he could find until he had a large pile once more. He even managed to drag a small fallen tree back into the clearing. He figured he could burn it bit by bit. Zak fed the fire. "HEY!" he shouted. "HELLO! I'M HERE!" He waited, but only the crickets and the night wind answered. The half-drow sat back down on the log and pulled one end of the fallen tree onto the fire.
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Cattie-brie paced back and forth across the small kitchen. Zak wasn't back. Drizzt wasn't back. And Violet was laying in her bunk listlessly, her eyes bright with fever. Cattie stirred the pot of chicken broth on the hearth and willed it to warm up faster. She glanced out of the window into the darkness and paced, and prayed.
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Drizzt finished cleaning his scimitars and started for home. A pack of tundra yetis had been terrorizing the local farms, but no more. It had taken a bit of work, but now the bodies of the three monsters lay burning in a pyre behind him. Drizzt shivered in the chill fall air and drew his cloak more tightly around him. He'd be glad to get inside their snug little house tonight. Hopefully Cattie-brie had something warm waiting.
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Cattie-brie fed six-year-old Violet another spoonful of broth and gently brushed the child's stark white hair back from her face. It hung in damp little ringlets from the fever. Two days ago Violet had come back early from playing at Ella's house because Ella wasn't feeling well. This afternoon Vi had come down with a fever too. Cattie offered another spoonful of broth but Violet pushed it away weakly and lay back on the pillow, eyes falling shut. Cattie-brie felt her forehead again and went to get a cool wet cloth to lay on it. Her eyes fell on her bow, Taulmaril, hanging by the door. She glanced towards the bedroom where her sword, Khazid'hea lay in it's sheath. Violet moaned softly, drawing Cattie's attention back to the present. She glanced out the window again and listened to the howling of the wind. Her boy was out there and she couldn't do anything about it.
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Zaknafein was singing a dwarven mining song grandpa Bruenor had taught him:
Gold, silver mithral,
Pick axe, furnace ore!
Mine until it's morning,
Then go mine some more!
Hammer, forge, steel,
Smelt and smith and pound!
Longsword, axes, maces,
Listen to the sound!
It was good to sing if you were lost; mum had told him that once – that way people would hear you, and it gave you something to do.
Zak finished the song and added more wood to the fire. "Hello!" he shouted, looking out across the dark clearing. "Father! I'm over here! Hey!" The last echoes of his shouts faded away and Zak shivered. "Don't cry," he told himself again. If he started, he didn't think he'd be able to stop. Maybe when morning came the fog and clouds would disappear and he's be able to see a familiar mountain peak or some other landmark from the treetops. Zak built up the fire, crawled into his little shelter, and started singing the mining song again.
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A/N: Okay, sorry, I said that Drizzt was going to be in this chapter, but he wasn't really. He'll be in the next one! Review, please?
