Chapter Four: Of Dragons, Dungeons, and Revelations
I cannot feel my fingers, or my toes. The snow grows deeper around me as I stagger on. I hear the disembodied voice of Catti-brie on the winds of the dale, lurking just on the edge of my hearing, leading me on.
I fear that this is possible because she has at last succumbed to her wounds and has passed from this place, nothing left but the echo of her spirit upon the winds of her home, where she was raised, lived, fought, and now died. It is not a fitting end. She should still be alive. Her death was not the death I know she would have wanted, fighting beside her friends to the last breath. It was an accident, a quirk of fate, or perhaps the whim of a cruel god.
I follow now because there is a hole in my heart. I cannot let her go. I love her. I determined once that my home was with Catti-brie, wherever that would lead. I remain true to that self-examination. I have entered the plane of the Abyss with her, I have fought beside her, and I have known her as my love, though only for a short time. There is still a bond between us. I feel it connecting us beyond the grave, through the planes, a thin, and likely unstable, tether.
My home is with her, wherever that will lead. And so I pursue this, her voice upon the wind, be that it leads to death, to torture, or to redemption. It matters not. I will be with her and that is all I will ever need.
It could be that this connection, this tether, is nothing more than my own guilt for allowing such a fate to befall her, or it could be the connection between lovers true. I never had a chance to apologize, to say I'm sorry, to say goodbye. And that could also be why there is this connection.
My life was and is a lie. This changes nothing. The fault of her death was my own. The many dangers and great foes we as companions, Catti-brie, Wulfgar, Bruenor, Regis, and I, faced are all my fault. Some may think I exaggerate, but I know the truth. For it was because of me that Regis and Catti-brie were endangered by Artemis Entreri. It was because of me that Errtu tortured Wulfgar for six years in the Abyss and caused his pain. It was because of me that my sister and later the Matron Mother Baenre came to Mithril Hall and endangered Bruenor and caused the deaths of many good dwarves.
All of those are burdens I must carry with me forever. All of those burdens increase their weight with every step I take through the knee-deep snow.
I hope for the black of death. Perhaps that will give me some peace. And perhaps not. Either way, it matters little.
Slowly I freeze, here in the wild.
Slowly the wind looses its bite and the snow its cold.
Soon now, soon...
--Drizzt Do'Urden
***
The clerics worked over her feverishly, but they knew it was futile. Her breathing had stopped, her pulse had faded; the warmth of her body as well. Her eyes stared blankly up in death sightless to this world.
Finally, as if on cue, their prayers of healing dwindled out. One of them sighed and turned to Bruenor, who was still sitting on the edge of the bed, his daughter's cold hand gripped tightly in his, his eyes locked on hers in shock and unbelief, simply staring down, hardly breathing and not moving at all.
"Me king..." started the Cleric quietly, reverently.
The revery broken, Bruenor turned to stare at the cleric with unseeing eyes, still focused on images of his daughter.
"Me king...her...her spirit be gone," said the Cleric gently.
***
Drizzt Do'Urden stumbled and fell to the snow, his whole torso plunging into a deep drift. Suddenly the cold that his face had been experiencing faded to nothing and he lost the feeling of anything except terrifyingly, horrifyingly, impossible, numbness.
He felt the strength he had been using to continue on suddenly depart from his body and he could not summon the strength to lift his head. He had not even the strength to shiver.
"Get up...." whispered a voice, calling, persistant. "It is not far now...."
Then, suddenly all was warm, and he felt life in him again, as he felt her touch him, a phantom hand not seen only felt caressing his face.
"It is not yet your time...." Catti-brie whispered. Then he felt her lips upon his and he felt the connection tying them together as they shared each other's energy and will power.
Drizzt found himself standing, each leg, surprisingly, ignoring the stiff of the cold and slowly shuffling forward, he started again. He was only a few hundred yards from the first upward slope of the Spine of the World Mountains.
He staggered on, the wind blasting against the rise of the mountains, snow obscuring his vision. He reached the rising rocks and slumped against them, staggering on, using the rocks as a support without which he likely would have fallen and not risen again.
And then, as he moved through the blizzard, the rock support suddenly vanished and Drizzt tumbled sideways into the mouth of a large cave there. A campfire blazed within.
Desperate for warmth, Drizzt crawled into the cave towards the flames. He slumped down and rolling onto his back just before he reached the fire, he felt the warmth against his skin.
***
Tomar Aldorin crept along the darkened depths of the cave, his slender knife drawn and ready. He had gone back to the back of the cave to check for dangers, and had discovered that it extended back much farther than he had thought at first. It continued on back until it became a small corridor that ran off sharply to the left and down, down, down, to a ledge that dropped off suddenly into a deep black that the light of his torch could not penetrate.
He stepped forward cautiously, leaning forward to peer intently over the edge, trying to judge how deep it might descend. He squinted into the gloom and shook his head. It could be less than a ten-foot drop for all he knew.
Then he heard a sound, far off and faint, from the original cave. His keen ears picked up the sound of footsteps echoing off the floor and walls.
He turned and made to move back up the tunnel, but dislodged a fair-sized rock, which rolled down to the lip of the ledge and tumbled off. He paused, holding his breath, listening for the tell-tale clatter.
He heard multiple voices from above, well, one voice talking and responding to someone else. Distracted, he moved away from the drop-off and returned back up the tunnel, heading for the noise.
He clutched at the scabs on his forearms from that blasted drow whip. He staggered and grasped the ruby hanging about his neck and focused its healing energies on the wounds. For some reason, they hadn't been healing well.
***
BurningIce had just closed its eyes in peaceful slumber when the resounding echo of rock upon rock echoed into the cavern of the worm.
The black, beaded eyes slipped open again and the great head rose slightly, cocked to the side, listening for more telltale sounds.
The dragon's heart lifted with a secret hope.
Perhaps some challenger had at last come again, for the first time in more than a century.
***
After being set free by Do'Urden off the road, Tomar had traveled through the wilds until being found by a group of orcs. But they had not, strangely enough, killed him. They had taken him captive and delivered him into the hands of their leader, the mysterious general. The general had not been an orc. At least, that is what Tomar assumed. He had never seen the general's face, or in fact, any skin at all, for the general had worn armor over every inch of his body, and had also worn a skull-shaped helm which obscured his features from view.
The general had given him men and the magical ruby. He led his men back into the Dale to ravage the caravan lines. But they had found Do'Urden again! And the drow had killed them all. Tomar had escaped long before the drow could have found him and was now hiding in this cave at the base of the Spine of the World.
He did not wish to return to tell the general that his entire force of forty could not bring down one warrior, drow or not. The very idea was terrifying. The general would have his head (and his bowels and his arms and his legs and his fingers and his toes, and pretty much everything else) cut off. If only Tomar could get his hands on that drow elf! If only he could have revenge!
As he moved closer to the front of the cave, he saw the still form of Drizzt Do'Urden, lying alone and helpless by his fire. And Tomar Aldoril grinned widely. The gods worked fast.
Silently, he slipped out his dagger and moved towards the prone, ebony- skinned ranger.
***
The icewind howled, bitingly cold and constantly blowing high atop the southern-most mountain in the Spine of the World. A powerful hand gripped a ledge high up on the mountain side.
Artemis Entreri pulled himself up onto the ledge, wind whistling around him, whipping the long strands of his hair into his eyes. Brushing it aside, he drew his sword, scrambled away from the edge and waited in a crouch, for the following orcs. They had pursued him into the Spine of the World, had followed him up the mountain side, and had even closed in on the agile and strong human.
When the orc hand grabbed for a handhold on the ledge, Entreri waited, sword hovering by his head. The orc hauled its head and shoulders above the level of the ledge, and found a sword descending. And then its head was gone, tumbling away down the mountain face in a flash of red and ash from Charon's Claw. Entreri kicked out at the torso and sent it spinning down out of sight. He nodded in satisfaction as he heard the resulting screams, knowing that at least some other orcs had followed the body of the first back down the mountain side.
Then he turned, sheathed Charon's Claw and leaped up, fingers and boots scrabbling for holds. Finding some, Entreri hauled himself the next twenty or so feet to the top of the mountain. Then he stood tall upon the wind- blown rocks and surveyed the Spine of the World.
It was magnificent, or would have been, had he not been followed by the orcs.
***
Tomar raised his dagger above him, preparing to strike. He closed rapidly, boots scuffing softly on the stone floor.
Drizzt's eyes snapped open and focused immediately upon Tomar, though he was far too weak to do anything else.
Grinning from ear to ear, Tomar paused, seeing the helplessness of the drow.
"Well, drow. We just keep running into each other," he sneered, closing in, circling the fire and prone drow.
"Lucky. . . me," Drizzt managed to spit out.
"No, it would probably be closer along the lines of unlucky you, drow. I'll not suffer you to escape again."
And with that, Tomar struck, his dagger a blur.
***
Entreri turned, and instantly drew Charon's Claw and his jeweled dagger, bringing his sword up horizontally to deflect away a strike, then brought his dagger in close to shoot out and stab the orc in the belly. Or would have had the orc not knocked it away. Entreri blinked in surprise for a split second.
The orc brought its large sword in a straight thrust towards Entreri, who only knocked it away, lining a scratch along his right arm from it.
Perhaps he was merely getting tired.
He clashed Charon's Claw against the orc's sword, lifting the orc blade up and over their heads and back down the other side to drive it into the dirt, breaking the orc's grip on its weapon. Entreri kicked out, feeling the leg bend the wrong way at the knee, hearing the primal roar of pain, then drove his dagger deep.
Ripping the dagger from its belly, he placed a well-aimed kick squarely in the orc's chest, driving it back to the edge of the cliff. It tried to remain standing, but lost its balance with its leg broken, and toppled backward into its climbing companion. They both fell free down, down, down.
Wiping his blades, Entreri slid them into their sheaths again, and carefully picked a path down further into the Spine of the World.
***
The dagger plunged down through the air towards Drizzt. And then it suddenly halted as Tomar's eyes widened. He shuddered as the spirit attacked him. He fell back screaming in pain as Catti-brie assaulted his life force again and again.
It was pain, pain everywhere. Red danced before his eyes. His heart was as in a vice! He clutched and scrabbled at his chest, desperate to relieve the pain, the burning, tearing agony! She assaulted him the only place she could find weakness. The ruby. She entered it and reversed its healing process.
The wounds on his arms from the drow whip burst open, blood spraying the floor of the cave. Clutching at the wounds desperately, black eating at his vision, he suddenly toppled forward to the ground and lay still.
The chain around the ruby snapped and it fell beside Drizzt's hand. Slowly, Drizzt reached out and curled his fingers around it.
The internal warmth returned, and he knew Catti-brie was touching him again.
"Always remember Drizzt..." the beautiful voice whispered. "I love you."
"Don't go," mumbled Drizzt, fast falling asleep. "Please...."
"I must..." came the response, beginning to fade. "My time runs short..."
"No..."
"Goodbye Drizzt Do'Urden....I love you..."
Drizzt was now more than half asleep.
"I....love...." he tried to say and he passed into darkness once again.
***
"No!" Bruenor shouted, coming seemingly alive, and leaped off the bed, slugging the offending cleric in the face, laying him low. "No!"
In a blinding rage, he drew his axe and drove it into the ground beside the cleric, tears running down his face and into his beard, then turned and grabbed the lifeless body of Catti-brie by the shoulders and shook her prone form.
"Ye get back here!" he bellowed in despair. "T'ain't yer time!"
Clerics rushed forward and grabbed the grieving dwarf by the arms, forced to bodily drag him off of the body.
"Get off me!" he shouted, shaking them off and twisting around, trying to get a clean shot for a punch. He smashed his fist into the wall instead as the one he had been aiming for ducked out of the way. He seemed not to feel it, or at least not to care. For he had heard something strange. They all had.
They turned to stare at the bed in shock and surprise.
Catti-brie inhaled.
It was shallow, but it was breathing just the same.
***
BurningIce paused for a long moment in its lair, ears craning to determine if an intruder had indeed come. Perhaps a misguided adventurer? A barbarian hero, perhaps? A worthy challenger? The dragon had had few of those in its long and evil lifetime.
After a full minute of silent listening, the dragon lost interest, gave a great yawn which spouted frost-blue pure cold, and slumped back down on its mound of treasure, laying its head to rest comfortably against the millions of gold coins.
Soon it slumbered once again.
***
Drizzt slept the rest of the day, missing the glorious sunset in the west over the Trackless Sea, missing the end of the snowfall, though gray clouds promised more soon to come. The drow slept, oblivious to the movements of Artemis Entreri as the assassin traversed the Spine of the World, the determination of Fate closing in.
Drizzt slept, as the hours slipped by.
As the sun disappeared below the horizon, Drizzt Do'Urden of House Daermon N'a'shezbaernon awoke, finding himself refreshed and his wounds surprisingly on the mend.
He opened his eyes and slowly sat up, groaning from the protesting muscles which were stiff from where he had been lying on the stone cold floor. He slowly eased himself to his feet, and felt something warm and hard slide from his fingers to clatter to the stones. He looked to the ground and his eyes lighted on the healing ruby. He retrieved it and held it up. He regarded it. It had clearly saved him and was a rather magical item. Thinking it to be of possible future use he slipped it into the folds of his tunic, so that it pressed against his skin.
He quickly reached into his pouch and pulled out the figurine of his beloved panther. He realized that Guenhwyvar could not be killed on the material plane, but she could be severely injured. He paused, questioning whether he should call the cat to him so soon after injury, but deciding that he would rather know of her condition, he set the statue down and whispered, "Guenhwyvar, come to me."
The familiar gray mist formed around it and became cat-shaped. Then Guenhwyvar appeared. She walked with a slight limp and probably had other internal injuries, but she showed no signs of extreme pain. He walked over to her and scratched her behind the ears. She growled happily enough.
"I was worried about you, Guen," Drizzt whispered to the cat. She looked at him with an expression that seemed to rather express that he worry about himself.
He grinned at her and then soon after dismissed her back to her own plane where she would continue to heal.
He then noticed the still form of Tomar and he remembered the previous events in the cave. He smiled as he looked upon the body, for the spirit of Catti-brie, as her last act, had defended him. He took comfort in that at the same time experiencing a pang of sadness. His chest tightened, and in order to drown the pain, Drizzt turned and made his way back farther into the cave, hoping to find something to occupy his attention.
***
A finger twitched.
Slowly, Tomar Aldorin blinked open his eyes.
His mind was as in a fog, and he simply lay, blinking stupidly in the haze of his thoughts, searching for some recollection of what had occurred.
He rolled slowly onto his back and clambered to his feet, swaying unsteadily, feeling light-headed. Rubbing his temples, he glanced around, noting the smoldering ruin that was his fire and the absence of Do'Urden. He turned completely around, fumbling for his slender dagger.
He noted the disturbances in the dust on the cave floor where the drow had lain, and then the scuff marks of boots leading deeper into the caves.
Tomar took a step in pursuit, then paused, feeling something was out of place. He reached up and felt for his ruby. It was gone. Taken by the thieving drow, likely. Tomar snarled in rage.
He was going to kill that drow, if it was the last thing he did.
He didn't even think that it probably would be.
***
Drizzt moved easily through the darkness, marveling at the energy and strength he had regained so quickly. It was the ruby, he knew, feeling it working its magic upon him as he strode amid the stalagmites and stalactites.
Soon he found the cave narrowing into a tunnel of sorts that narrowed and sloped downwards at a slight angle. He followed it.
The tunnel ended a few minutes later and he emerged on the edge of a ledge which dropped down suddenly. With his superior infrared vision, Drizzt clearly saw that the drop off was not completely vertical, but sloped at a steep angle down and out of sight in a sort of extremely rough slide.
His keen ears picked up the sound of breathing, a long way off, from below.
He was just contemplating whether he wanted to go investigate when something slammed into him from behind. The drow staggered, the air knocked from his chest, and he fell to the hard stone, his attacker atop him. He bucked with all of his strength, tossing his opponent off of him, then rolled. Just in time, it turned out, as a dagger drove into the ground where his head had been only a split second before. He grabbed the arm and bodily flipped Tomar over his head, then rolled to his feet, angrily kicking at Tomar as he scrambled to his knees.
Tomar swatted the kick away, which Drizzt hadn't really intended to connect, and pushed himself to his feet.
They squared off, glaring at each other.
Drizzt slid his scimitars out of their sheaths slowly, menacingly, making sure that there was a clear "shing!" as he drew them.
They began to circle each other until Drizzt had his back to the drop behind them. Tomar struck, dagger glinting as it sliced through the air. Drizzt caught the blade and flipped it up and out of the way, then followed with a slash from Twinkle. Tomar dodged awkwardly, yet still managed to avoid being struck. In the position he was in, Drizzt realized that he was seriously vulnerable, with Twinkle extended straight out and Icingdeath down and by his thigh. Tomar saw the opening and took it, jabbing for Drizzt's ribs with his dagger.
Drizzt, realizing that the human was too close to effectively parry the strike, leaped back out of the way, and was suddenly aware that he was out of room as he landed with his heels over open air. Suddenly unbalanced, Drizzt's arms went out to the sides to steady him, and Tomar attacked, slamming into the drow, dagger eager to stab.
Drizzt over balanced, grabbing onto Tomar's hair with one hand as he tipped backward, and they plunged unseeing into the darkness.
***
Just after the moon had passed the midpoint in its nightly journey, Catti- brie awoke from the coma. The clerics praised their dwarven deities, and Bruenor wept openly, muttering "me girl" fervently between sobs.
She was still very weak, and the internal bleeding continued. Soon after, she fell asleep, and slipped once again into the depths of the coma, the darkness, the hardest battle she had ever fought.
Some hours passed and her skin began to again take on a deadened look before Pwent Battlerager burst in looking agitated, hopping about in frustration.
"There be an elf to see ye me king," he said.
"Bah," snorted Bruenor softly, shaking his head. "I be seein' no one this night. Me girl's passing before me eyes and I'll not waste words with the likes of-"
"Lady Alustriel, perhaps?" asked a beautiful and amused voice from behind the gruff dwarf.
Bruenor spun around to see the frail and beautiful, and softly glowing, Lady Alustriel, leader of Silverymoon, a great city to the south.
"Me lady!" stuttered Bruenor embarrassedly.
"It is all right, Bruenor Battlehammer. We have more concerns this night than your manners, especially under such circumstances."
"But-but, how could ye have gotten....I mean, how did ye....." the flustered dwarf blurted out.
Alustriel smiled, an expression destined to warm the heart of even the surliest of dwarves.
But then the smile was gone, and Alustriel wore a very grave look.
"I have had a vision, my dwarven friend." Her voice was deadly serious. "A glimpse of what is to come."
She paused for a long moment, as if debating about how much to say, then glanced at Catti-brie.
"But even with the direness of what I have seen, there is yet hope," she said, never looking away from the pale form of Catti-brie. She turned her gaze back to Bruenor.
"Then ye've come for me Catti-brie?" Bruenor's face brightened considerably with that hope.
"I have. Wulfgar travels north as well. I sent a messenger to him. And I have brought a potion."
Bruenor leaped off of the bed to his feet with happiness.
"An' it'll be healin' me Catti-brie?"
"That is the hope. It is not clear how far our friend Catti-brie has slipped from the living, but there is yet hope that she will live."
While she spoke, Alustriel moved closer to the prone woman, knelt by the large (by dwarven standards) bed, and produced a small glass vial from the depths of her magnificent, pure white dress.
She breathed a word quietly at the top of the vial, and the potent liquid began to brighten as if a miniature star were contained within.
Leaning in toward Catti-brie's face, Alustriel gently lifted the vial to the pale lips of the prone woman and poured the contents down her throat.
The beautiful elf turned to Bruenor again and smiled.
"Now we must hope," Alustriel said.
Somewhere in the background Pwent Battlerager muttered "grow yerself a beard, girly elf."
***
Drizzt slammed into the stone ground, the air in his lungs blasted out in an explosive gasp as the two struggling adversaries began to slide down the rough rock, Tomar above Drizzt, trying to bring his dagger to bear, Drizzt latching upon the wrist and refusing to release it.
Drizzt was on his back, sliding down the chute headfirst, unable to see where he was going. Unable to escape the iron grip of the enraged drow, Tomar began punching and striking Drizzt with his free and empty hand.
Drizzt kicked out, trying to throw Tomar from him. Tomar tipped to the side, still held fast by the drow, and they began to roll, one over the other, as they slid and fought.
The world spun around Drizzt dizzily as he tried to focus on the human attempting to kill him. Somehow he found that difficult what with his back slamming into the ground every second or so as their uncontrollable roll continued, down into the gloom.
After several minutes of rolling in the darkness, the chute evened out into a large cavern. As they neared, Drizzt twisted the knife in Tomar's grasp, and they hit the level area with the force of a giant's blow, the air knocked out of both of their lungs. Tomar landed with his back to the ground, Drizzt atop him, the weight of the drow impaling Tomar with his own knife.
His momentum continuing, Drizzt rolled by the human, who gasped in agony and pain as the ice-cold blade slipped into his belly.
Drizzt rolled to his feet in the dark, seeing easily, his eyes two angry lavender pricks in the darkness.
Tomar, hands shaking weakly, slowly pulled the dagger from his belly, hearing it fall clattering away to the stone. He slowly rolled to his stomach and staggered to his feet weakly, hands pressing against the tide of blood soiling his tunic.
Drizzt stared hard at the thief.
"Do you remember what I told you that day on the road, when I rescued you from the wizard?" Drizzt asked, his voice rasping coldly in the quiet gloom.
Tomar looked at him in horror, a thin trail of blood flowing from the corner of his mouth, his eyes adjusting to the gloom to see Drizzt. He did remember. The panther!
Drizzt slowly lifted his arm, holding the panther figurine, a cold and dangerous look in his eyes. "I keep my promises, thief," he breathed.
"No!" shouted Tomar and turned, staggering, limping into the gloom.
"Guenhwyvar," said Drizzt, calling the panther.
The mist appeared and soon the cat was before him.
There was a long silence in the darkness as Drizzt stared after the receding back of the thief.
Then he pointed after the fleeing fool.
"Kill," he snarled.
***
Tomar Aldorin staggered into the gloom, running blindly. There was a sharp and constant burning pain in his belly as if it were afire. He clutched at the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. He glanced behind, imaging that horrible panther on his heels, maw slathering.
The way was empty behind him, but that hardly comforted the terrified human. Likely it was stalking him!
And then he tripped, falling forward, into nothing. He felt himself sliding, down, down.
He emerged into golden light as he rolled headlong into a pile of coins, scattering them across the stones, tinkling and bouncing. He was barely conscious, darkness eating at his vision. He wasn't feeling much anymore.
"Greetings, challenger!" came a terrible voice. "You die."
Tomar glanced up and found a great reptilian head grinning evilly at him.
The maw opened and pure bluish cold issued forth faster than Tomar could have thought possible.
He didn't even have time to scream.
***
Guenhwyvar continued to look at Drizzt.
"Get after him!" the angry drow bellowed.
Guen did not move, just looked at Drizzt with an expression bordering on disappointment.
"Kill him!" screamed Drizzt in sheer anger. He was trembling with a rage greater than he knew was in him. His blood boiled. Why did she not obey him?
"I command you to kill that man!" shouted Drizzt, shivering in almost uncontrollable anger, his purple eyes glittering in lavender rage, pointing in the general direction Tomar had disappeared in.
Guenhwyvar pointedly ignored him and sat on her haunches, never breaking eye contact with Drizzt. Drizzt lost control and moved forward, hand raised to strike. She flinched back, turning her face away, ears flat, squinting.
Drizzt paused, hand in midair, frozen in shock at what he had almost done. Guen slowly turned her head back and gave Drizzt a piercingly wounded stare.
His mind rocketed back to Masoj and how he had seen the evil drow wizard treat Guenhwyvar. He remembered every single time when Guenhwyvar had stood by him alone, every time she had unquestioningly followed him into a dangerous situation, every time she had saved his life.
And he found himself on his knees, arms about her powerful neck, head next to hers.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling perfectly miserable. He felt tears coming, but the moment was broken with the echoing sound of a great and terrible roar of triumph.
Startled, Drizzt rolled to the right, scimitars appearing in his hands as if willed there.
He glanced at Guenhwyvar, who was growling, her fangs bared. There was an almost eager light in Drizzt's eyes.
Silently, the pair moved off in the direction of the sound.
***
BurningIce found itself pleased with the kill, yet disappointed with the swiftness of the conflict. It had waited for so long, so many centuries, and now its only conflict in two hundred years was over. Finished. Ended. The dragon worried that it might not even see another challenger again. It mused that perhaps it should have toyed with its prey a bit longer before finishing it.
It was very disappointed indeed.
***
Drizzt and Guenhwyvar crept along the cavernous tunnels. Soon they came upon a large gaping hole in the floor of the tunnel. Creeping nearer, Drizzt moved to his hands and knees, carefully crawling forward to peer down into the hole.
There was a pile of coins and treasure stacked so high that Drizzt could almost reach down and touch it. He leaned farther down, sticking his head through the hole and scanning the huge cavern. It was filled-packed-with countless treasure. Huge mounds, mountains even, of the stuff lay scattered everywhere.
He barely had time to react. He yanked his head out of the hole, and rolled back away from the lip, just as a gout of pure cold blasted through the hole and froze the ceiling solid.
"You are quick, little thief," said a terrible voice from below, a voice with a slight hint of admiration.
"Dragon..." whispered Drizzt in despair. He had faced a Frost Dragon before, but then he had been assisting Wulfgar, and they had tied in slaying the beast. Later, in the depths of Mithril Hall, the companions had faced another dragon, a dragon that had almost taken Bruenor from them, that had nearly killed them all. Drizzt had no interest in facing one again, especially alone.
"I have vanquished your friend," the taunting voice of the dragon echoed up at him. Drizzt found he hardly cared.
Suddenly, he realized that if he wished to end his life this would be the perfect way to go. He felt his emotions fade, all except for rage, the most valuable and dangerous emotion of all. He fell into the Hunter.
Then, nodding to Guenhwyvar, who understood her master's intentions perfectly, he watched her move into position in front of him.
Then the panther let out a horrible roar and dove out of sight, through the hole and slid down the mountain of treasure, Drizzt at her tail, sliding down the other side of the mound.
***
Entreri had traveled for many hours up and down mountains, still running from the many orcs that had pursued him. He thought he had lost them, though they could possibly be watching him at that moment. He had just reached the highest peak in the Spine of the World and set a fire some way below the absolute peak, on a flat stretch of ground. The day was unusually warm for the start of winter in the Dale. Not quite cold enough for snow.
He glanced into the sky and found dark clouds sliding over to obscure the moon, and a few moments later felt the telltale droplets of rain. He quickly threw a cloak over his head.
It was going to be a long night.
***
The cat charged down the slope and attacked the surprised dragon, leaping at it, claws raking the hard scales and jaws trying to find something to bite.
Drizzt slid down the other side of the treasure mound, Guenhwyvar's attack perfectly distracting the dragon long enough for Drizzt to enter the cave unnoticed. He slid down it upright, remaining upon his feet, balance perfect, as if he were skiing.
Ignoring the sounds of battle for the moment, Drizzt reached the bottom of the mound of treasure and moved around the base in the quiet shadows.
He tripped over something and fell to the ground. He was in plain sight of the dragon, though it was busy with Guenhwyvar and did not look his direction. He snatched whatever it was that tripped him up and discovered a magnificent crossbow with a blood-red bolt and a SEPARATE purple-colored jewel of some sort. Grinning, he took up the crossbow, pocketed the jewel and rolled to his feet, sprinting up the side of a large mound of treasure. Peaking the crest, he lifted the crossbow and pulled the trigger.
The bolt exploded fiery-red in the shadows and blasted towards the dragon like a rocket, trailing a line of glowing ash. Unused to the bow, Drizzt's shot was just off the mark and ricoched off of the hard scales of the behemoth's back and shot into the roof of the cavern high above.
There was a flash of bright light and darkness became like day for a split second before it faded, amid the sound of buckling rock from above.
***
Entreri gasped as a section of ground ten feet in diameter suddenly glowed red-hot and exploded upward into the air, pelting him with rocks and debris, throwing him backwards to roll onto his stomach. He blinked dirt out of his eyes, still seeing the afterglow of the fire in his vision.
What in the layers of the Abyss was that?
***
Drizzt looked at the crossbow. Another bolt simply materialized, ready to be loosed.
Drizzt fired the crossbow again, this time sailing true and punching a hole in the armored scales of the dragon, a direct broadside which threw the beast's balance off.
Then Drizzt drew his scimitars with a snarl of rage, and charged down the incline of the mound straight for the dragon. Normally, he wouldn't have done something so rashly. But there was a part of him that wanted to die, to fall into the blissful sleep of death. He ignored the Hunter's urge to kill the beast, and simply charged.
It blasted at Guenhwyvar with its icy breath (the cat nimbly leaped out of its path), and turned to the charging Drizzt. It opened its huge maw.
Drizzt never faltered. He knew instinctively that this was the end. He embraced it, hefting his scimitars in defiance and shouted all of his rage, his hate, his anguish at the beast before him. If emotions could become weapons, BurningIce would have been a greasy smear on the side of the cave.
It casually blasted the drow full-force with its deadly ice breath.
There was no escape.
***
Entreri staggered to his feet, dust and rubble falling away from his clothes. Confusion etched on his face, he fell to his hands and knees and crawled to the edge of the smoldering hole and stared down into the cavern, instantly assessing the battle below.
His eyes lighted on a familiar drow.
Drizzt Do'Urden.
His eyes narrowed.
***
Drizzt felt a surge of power from his pocket. The purple jewel he had taken had begun to pulse and throb within his tunic. He felt its power all around him.
Drizzt gasped as he felt the energy surge through every inch of his body, a warm flood traveling even to his extremities.
The ice breath struck him and....and....and parted as if blasted to the sides like water around a rock. It flowed around him. He could see it moving around him, over his skin, but he felt nothing. In fact, he kept running.
Recovering from his surprise swiftly, Drizzt saw Guenhwyvar charging again at the dragon, saw the dragon turn away from him, thinking him downed, saw Guenhwyvar leap high into the air, straight for the beast's throat.
He was utterly helpless to what was going to happen. So he charged past the feet of the dragon and dove underneath it, seeking the soft underbelly.
***
Guenhwyvar snarled in rage as the huge mouth, fangs glistening, snapped closed around the panther. She felt the burn of pain as she was impaled by teeth the size of scimitars. She howled in pain, feeling herself grow indistinct, knowing that she was returning to the Astral plane. She howled again, desiring to aid her drow friend. The intelligent panther remembered the Underdark, remembered that moment when Drizzt had been caught in the sticky webs of a cive fisher and about to be killed. She had resisted the magic of the statue then. Drizzt needed her help again. And so she fought the call of the magic with all of her heart and all of her soul.
Stubbornly she fought the call, feeling herself return in full force to the material plane, feeling the driving, burning pain, though she ignored it. She tore herself off of the teeth and half crawled half fell deeper into the mouth of the dragon.
It swallowed, the tongue raising and forcing her down its evil throat. As she disappeared down the gaping maw, Guenhwyvar unsheathed her claws and dug them into the throat, carving great channels as she fell, snarling all the way.
***
The dragon roared in pain, head and neck arcing upward as it did so. Drizzt stabbed with both of his blades, both slipping between scales and into soft flesh. With a growl of rage, Drizzt twisted them.
The dragon reared in agony, roaring again, but this time spewing blood as well.
Glancing down, the dragon saw Drizzt twisting his scimitars in its soft belly. BurningIce swatted Drizzt away, his scimitars sliding free and Drizzt felt himself grasped in powerful talons. Pinned and helpless, Drizzt was lifted close to the dragon's face.
"You were worthy, elf," the dragon stated. Then it flipped Drizzt into the air and opened its sharp mouth.
And it struck.
***
Catti-brie's eyes snapped open. She screamed a single name.
"Drizzt!"
The door to the ante-room where Alustriel and Bruenor had been talking burst open, Bruenor nearly taking it off its hinges as he heard his daughter's voice. He fell upon her, tears obscuring his vision in his happiness, constantly muttering "me girl, me girl," over and over.
Lady Alustriel followed the exuberant dwarf, her face a frown of concern.
Catti-brie was overwhelmed for several moments by the dwarf. Alustriel sat beside Bruenor and put her hand on Catti-brie's shoulder. Catti-brie looked at her weakly, still lying back.
"Where is Drizzt?"
Catti-brie opened her mouth, then closed it again, then finally mustered the strength to speak.
"Spine....of the World."
Lady Alustriel nodded knowingly.
"Destiny is closing in."
She glanced at Bruenor. The teary-eyed dwarf sniffed and raised an eyebrow in question
"What are ye talkin' about?" asked Bruenor.
"I have foreseen this. Events are now unfolding which cannot be changed. The path has been chosen. It must be seen through to the end."
Alustriel looked again at the weak form of Catti-brie.
"Stay with her," she said. "She is yet not well enough to move."
Her voice suddenly turned grave.
"She must not die."
Bruenor nodded.
Alustriel moved forward, knelt down and gripped Bruenor's forearm tightly. She looked grimmly into his eyes.
"She MUST not."
Alustriel stood quickly and moved out of the room, gently closing the doors behind her. She turned and Thibbledwarf Pwent stood behind her.
"Heared me a yell," said the energetic dwarf.
"Catti-brie is awake."
He nodded. She found his stench quite overwhelming even at that distance.
"Do you like battle?" She asked slyly.
"Do fishes like water?" retorted Pwent.
She nodded, smiling. A plan had begun to formulate in her mind.
"Come with me."
***
Drizzt saw the head move towards him in a lighting-fast strike. He didn't think he could cheat fate another time. His arms flailed around him, seeking something, anything, to protect himself from the coming death.
And then he stopped falling. He looked up and found himself locking stares with Artemis Entreri, who had him firmly gripped by the wrist, leaning out over the edge of the hole carved by the wayward crossbow bolt.
The dragon undercompensated, expecting Drizzt to be several feet below his current position. The jaws snapped shut on empty air.
It was the last thing BurningIce ever did.
It was that exact moment that Guenhwyvar ripped apart BurningIce's heart from the inside.
***
Entreri hauled Drizzt out of the cavern and onto the mountain side, into the cold rain. Thunder rumbled and lightning crackled in the air around them, lighting up the night. Black clouds covered the light of the moon.
As soon as his feet were planted firmly on the ground, Drizzt shoved away from Entreri and rolled to his feet, lavender eyes glaring, scimitars gripped firmly in his hands. Twinkle glowed a dim blue.
"I do not believe I have ever seen Drizzt Do'Urden so depressed. Perhaps he has heard that I seek him."
Drizzt scowled.
"You," he growled.
Artemis Entreri raised an eyebrow. "Well met to you too," he said wryly.
He stood on the other side of the smoldering firepit, the dying flames flickering off his face and glowing red eyes, forearms resting lightly on his sword hilt and dagger. He looked perfectly calm.
"Tell me drow, can you ever die?"
"Can you?" snarled Drizzt. The anger within him was building. It wasn't even directed towards Entreri, but at everything that had happened, every hardship that had befallen his companions because he had come to the surface. His banishing of Errtu, which had led to the balor's desire for revenge against him, which had led to his capturing Wulfgar and torturing him for six years, which had led to Aegis-Fang being stolen and sold to a deadly pirate. Drizzt's escaping Menzoberranzan those years ago, which had led to the dishonoring of House Do'Urden and the sacrifice of Drizzt's father to Lloth, the Spider Queen, Goddess of Chaos, which had led to Drizzt's sister coming to Mithril Hall for revenge against him, which had been merely a precursor to Matron Baenre's invasion of Mithril Hall later, costing many lives. He saw Ellifain die. He saw Zaknafein fall into boiling acid.
All of that guilt, and all of that pent up frustration and anger went surging against Artemis Entreri as Drizzt stared at him.
Drizzt was the Hunter again. An intense fire burned in his purple eyes as he bored holes through the face of Entreri.
"Let us finish what we have been trying to for so many years, Drizzt Do'Urden!" said Entreri. He swept his arms about him, indicating their isolation. "Look around you, Do'Urden! No friends, no allies to get in the way this time. Let us finish this. Only one walks away."
Drizzt Do'Urden exploded into motion before Entreri had even finished speaking, leaping over the fire, Twinkle shining with a blinding blue glow.
Upon a mountain top, in the midst of a storm, far in the wild, completely isolated, Drizzt Do'Urden and Artemis Entreri dueled for the final time.
Next Chapter: "The Darkest Hour, the Final Duel"
I cannot feel my fingers, or my toes. The snow grows deeper around me as I stagger on. I hear the disembodied voice of Catti-brie on the winds of the dale, lurking just on the edge of my hearing, leading me on.
I fear that this is possible because she has at last succumbed to her wounds and has passed from this place, nothing left but the echo of her spirit upon the winds of her home, where she was raised, lived, fought, and now died. It is not a fitting end. She should still be alive. Her death was not the death I know she would have wanted, fighting beside her friends to the last breath. It was an accident, a quirk of fate, or perhaps the whim of a cruel god.
I follow now because there is a hole in my heart. I cannot let her go. I love her. I determined once that my home was with Catti-brie, wherever that would lead. I remain true to that self-examination. I have entered the plane of the Abyss with her, I have fought beside her, and I have known her as my love, though only for a short time. There is still a bond between us. I feel it connecting us beyond the grave, through the planes, a thin, and likely unstable, tether.
My home is with her, wherever that will lead. And so I pursue this, her voice upon the wind, be that it leads to death, to torture, or to redemption. It matters not. I will be with her and that is all I will ever need.
It could be that this connection, this tether, is nothing more than my own guilt for allowing such a fate to befall her, or it could be the connection between lovers true. I never had a chance to apologize, to say I'm sorry, to say goodbye. And that could also be why there is this connection.
My life was and is a lie. This changes nothing. The fault of her death was my own. The many dangers and great foes we as companions, Catti-brie, Wulfgar, Bruenor, Regis, and I, faced are all my fault. Some may think I exaggerate, but I know the truth. For it was because of me that Regis and Catti-brie were endangered by Artemis Entreri. It was because of me that Errtu tortured Wulfgar for six years in the Abyss and caused his pain. It was because of me that my sister and later the Matron Mother Baenre came to Mithril Hall and endangered Bruenor and caused the deaths of many good dwarves.
All of those are burdens I must carry with me forever. All of those burdens increase their weight with every step I take through the knee-deep snow.
I hope for the black of death. Perhaps that will give me some peace. And perhaps not. Either way, it matters little.
Slowly I freeze, here in the wild.
Slowly the wind looses its bite and the snow its cold.
Soon now, soon...
--Drizzt Do'Urden
***
The clerics worked over her feverishly, but they knew it was futile. Her breathing had stopped, her pulse had faded; the warmth of her body as well. Her eyes stared blankly up in death sightless to this world.
Finally, as if on cue, their prayers of healing dwindled out. One of them sighed and turned to Bruenor, who was still sitting on the edge of the bed, his daughter's cold hand gripped tightly in his, his eyes locked on hers in shock and unbelief, simply staring down, hardly breathing and not moving at all.
"Me king..." started the Cleric quietly, reverently.
The revery broken, Bruenor turned to stare at the cleric with unseeing eyes, still focused on images of his daughter.
"Me king...her...her spirit be gone," said the Cleric gently.
***
Drizzt Do'Urden stumbled and fell to the snow, his whole torso plunging into a deep drift. Suddenly the cold that his face had been experiencing faded to nothing and he lost the feeling of anything except terrifyingly, horrifyingly, impossible, numbness.
He felt the strength he had been using to continue on suddenly depart from his body and he could not summon the strength to lift his head. He had not even the strength to shiver.
"Get up...." whispered a voice, calling, persistant. "It is not far now...."
Then, suddenly all was warm, and he felt life in him again, as he felt her touch him, a phantom hand not seen only felt caressing his face.
"It is not yet your time...." Catti-brie whispered. Then he felt her lips upon his and he felt the connection tying them together as they shared each other's energy and will power.
Drizzt found himself standing, each leg, surprisingly, ignoring the stiff of the cold and slowly shuffling forward, he started again. He was only a few hundred yards from the first upward slope of the Spine of the World Mountains.
He staggered on, the wind blasting against the rise of the mountains, snow obscuring his vision. He reached the rising rocks and slumped against them, staggering on, using the rocks as a support without which he likely would have fallen and not risen again.
And then, as he moved through the blizzard, the rock support suddenly vanished and Drizzt tumbled sideways into the mouth of a large cave there. A campfire blazed within.
Desperate for warmth, Drizzt crawled into the cave towards the flames. He slumped down and rolling onto his back just before he reached the fire, he felt the warmth against his skin.
***
Tomar Aldorin crept along the darkened depths of the cave, his slender knife drawn and ready. He had gone back to the back of the cave to check for dangers, and had discovered that it extended back much farther than he had thought at first. It continued on back until it became a small corridor that ran off sharply to the left and down, down, down, to a ledge that dropped off suddenly into a deep black that the light of his torch could not penetrate.
He stepped forward cautiously, leaning forward to peer intently over the edge, trying to judge how deep it might descend. He squinted into the gloom and shook his head. It could be less than a ten-foot drop for all he knew.
Then he heard a sound, far off and faint, from the original cave. His keen ears picked up the sound of footsteps echoing off the floor and walls.
He turned and made to move back up the tunnel, but dislodged a fair-sized rock, which rolled down to the lip of the ledge and tumbled off. He paused, holding his breath, listening for the tell-tale clatter.
He heard multiple voices from above, well, one voice talking and responding to someone else. Distracted, he moved away from the drop-off and returned back up the tunnel, heading for the noise.
He clutched at the scabs on his forearms from that blasted drow whip. He staggered and grasped the ruby hanging about his neck and focused its healing energies on the wounds. For some reason, they hadn't been healing well.
***
BurningIce had just closed its eyes in peaceful slumber when the resounding echo of rock upon rock echoed into the cavern of the worm.
The black, beaded eyes slipped open again and the great head rose slightly, cocked to the side, listening for more telltale sounds.
The dragon's heart lifted with a secret hope.
Perhaps some challenger had at last come again, for the first time in more than a century.
***
After being set free by Do'Urden off the road, Tomar had traveled through the wilds until being found by a group of orcs. But they had not, strangely enough, killed him. They had taken him captive and delivered him into the hands of their leader, the mysterious general. The general had not been an orc. At least, that is what Tomar assumed. He had never seen the general's face, or in fact, any skin at all, for the general had worn armor over every inch of his body, and had also worn a skull-shaped helm which obscured his features from view.
The general had given him men and the magical ruby. He led his men back into the Dale to ravage the caravan lines. But they had found Do'Urden again! And the drow had killed them all. Tomar had escaped long before the drow could have found him and was now hiding in this cave at the base of the Spine of the World.
He did not wish to return to tell the general that his entire force of forty could not bring down one warrior, drow or not. The very idea was terrifying. The general would have his head (and his bowels and his arms and his legs and his fingers and his toes, and pretty much everything else) cut off. If only Tomar could get his hands on that drow elf! If only he could have revenge!
As he moved closer to the front of the cave, he saw the still form of Drizzt Do'Urden, lying alone and helpless by his fire. And Tomar Aldoril grinned widely. The gods worked fast.
Silently, he slipped out his dagger and moved towards the prone, ebony- skinned ranger.
***
The icewind howled, bitingly cold and constantly blowing high atop the southern-most mountain in the Spine of the World. A powerful hand gripped a ledge high up on the mountain side.
Artemis Entreri pulled himself up onto the ledge, wind whistling around him, whipping the long strands of his hair into his eyes. Brushing it aside, he drew his sword, scrambled away from the edge and waited in a crouch, for the following orcs. They had pursued him into the Spine of the World, had followed him up the mountain side, and had even closed in on the agile and strong human.
When the orc hand grabbed for a handhold on the ledge, Entreri waited, sword hovering by his head. The orc hauled its head and shoulders above the level of the ledge, and found a sword descending. And then its head was gone, tumbling away down the mountain face in a flash of red and ash from Charon's Claw. Entreri kicked out at the torso and sent it spinning down out of sight. He nodded in satisfaction as he heard the resulting screams, knowing that at least some other orcs had followed the body of the first back down the mountain side.
Then he turned, sheathed Charon's Claw and leaped up, fingers and boots scrabbling for holds. Finding some, Entreri hauled himself the next twenty or so feet to the top of the mountain. Then he stood tall upon the wind- blown rocks and surveyed the Spine of the World.
It was magnificent, or would have been, had he not been followed by the orcs.
***
Tomar raised his dagger above him, preparing to strike. He closed rapidly, boots scuffing softly on the stone floor.
Drizzt's eyes snapped open and focused immediately upon Tomar, though he was far too weak to do anything else.
Grinning from ear to ear, Tomar paused, seeing the helplessness of the drow.
"Well, drow. We just keep running into each other," he sneered, closing in, circling the fire and prone drow.
"Lucky. . . me," Drizzt managed to spit out.
"No, it would probably be closer along the lines of unlucky you, drow. I'll not suffer you to escape again."
And with that, Tomar struck, his dagger a blur.
***
Entreri turned, and instantly drew Charon's Claw and his jeweled dagger, bringing his sword up horizontally to deflect away a strike, then brought his dagger in close to shoot out and stab the orc in the belly. Or would have had the orc not knocked it away. Entreri blinked in surprise for a split second.
The orc brought its large sword in a straight thrust towards Entreri, who only knocked it away, lining a scratch along his right arm from it.
Perhaps he was merely getting tired.
He clashed Charon's Claw against the orc's sword, lifting the orc blade up and over their heads and back down the other side to drive it into the dirt, breaking the orc's grip on its weapon. Entreri kicked out, feeling the leg bend the wrong way at the knee, hearing the primal roar of pain, then drove his dagger deep.
Ripping the dagger from its belly, he placed a well-aimed kick squarely in the orc's chest, driving it back to the edge of the cliff. It tried to remain standing, but lost its balance with its leg broken, and toppled backward into its climbing companion. They both fell free down, down, down.
Wiping his blades, Entreri slid them into their sheaths again, and carefully picked a path down further into the Spine of the World.
***
The dagger plunged down through the air towards Drizzt. And then it suddenly halted as Tomar's eyes widened. He shuddered as the spirit attacked him. He fell back screaming in pain as Catti-brie assaulted his life force again and again.
It was pain, pain everywhere. Red danced before his eyes. His heart was as in a vice! He clutched and scrabbled at his chest, desperate to relieve the pain, the burning, tearing agony! She assaulted him the only place she could find weakness. The ruby. She entered it and reversed its healing process.
The wounds on his arms from the drow whip burst open, blood spraying the floor of the cave. Clutching at the wounds desperately, black eating at his vision, he suddenly toppled forward to the ground and lay still.
The chain around the ruby snapped and it fell beside Drizzt's hand. Slowly, Drizzt reached out and curled his fingers around it.
The internal warmth returned, and he knew Catti-brie was touching him again.
"Always remember Drizzt..." the beautiful voice whispered. "I love you."
"Don't go," mumbled Drizzt, fast falling asleep. "Please...."
"I must..." came the response, beginning to fade. "My time runs short..."
"No..."
"Goodbye Drizzt Do'Urden....I love you..."
Drizzt was now more than half asleep.
"I....love...." he tried to say and he passed into darkness once again.
***
"No!" Bruenor shouted, coming seemingly alive, and leaped off the bed, slugging the offending cleric in the face, laying him low. "No!"
In a blinding rage, he drew his axe and drove it into the ground beside the cleric, tears running down his face and into his beard, then turned and grabbed the lifeless body of Catti-brie by the shoulders and shook her prone form.
"Ye get back here!" he bellowed in despair. "T'ain't yer time!"
Clerics rushed forward and grabbed the grieving dwarf by the arms, forced to bodily drag him off of the body.
"Get off me!" he shouted, shaking them off and twisting around, trying to get a clean shot for a punch. He smashed his fist into the wall instead as the one he had been aiming for ducked out of the way. He seemed not to feel it, or at least not to care. For he had heard something strange. They all had.
They turned to stare at the bed in shock and surprise.
Catti-brie inhaled.
It was shallow, but it was breathing just the same.
***
BurningIce paused for a long moment in its lair, ears craning to determine if an intruder had indeed come. Perhaps a misguided adventurer? A barbarian hero, perhaps? A worthy challenger? The dragon had had few of those in its long and evil lifetime.
After a full minute of silent listening, the dragon lost interest, gave a great yawn which spouted frost-blue pure cold, and slumped back down on its mound of treasure, laying its head to rest comfortably against the millions of gold coins.
Soon it slumbered once again.
***
Drizzt slept the rest of the day, missing the glorious sunset in the west over the Trackless Sea, missing the end of the snowfall, though gray clouds promised more soon to come. The drow slept, oblivious to the movements of Artemis Entreri as the assassin traversed the Spine of the World, the determination of Fate closing in.
Drizzt slept, as the hours slipped by.
As the sun disappeared below the horizon, Drizzt Do'Urden of House Daermon N'a'shezbaernon awoke, finding himself refreshed and his wounds surprisingly on the mend.
He opened his eyes and slowly sat up, groaning from the protesting muscles which were stiff from where he had been lying on the stone cold floor. He slowly eased himself to his feet, and felt something warm and hard slide from his fingers to clatter to the stones. He looked to the ground and his eyes lighted on the healing ruby. He retrieved it and held it up. He regarded it. It had clearly saved him and was a rather magical item. Thinking it to be of possible future use he slipped it into the folds of his tunic, so that it pressed against his skin.
He quickly reached into his pouch and pulled out the figurine of his beloved panther. He realized that Guenhwyvar could not be killed on the material plane, but she could be severely injured. He paused, questioning whether he should call the cat to him so soon after injury, but deciding that he would rather know of her condition, he set the statue down and whispered, "Guenhwyvar, come to me."
The familiar gray mist formed around it and became cat-shaped. Then Guenhwyvar appeared. She walked with a slight limp and probably had other internal injuries, but she showed no signs of extreme pain. He walked over to her and scratched her behind the ears. She growled happily enough.
"I was worried about you, Guen," Drizzt whispered to the cat. She looked at him with an expression that seemed to rather express that he worry about himself.
He grinned at her and then soon after dismissed her back to her own plane where she would continue to heal.
He then noticed the still form of Tomar and he remembered the previous events in the cave. He smiled as he looked upon the body, for the spirit of Catti-brie, as her last act, had defended him. He took comfort in that at the same time experiencing a pang of sadness. His chest tightened, and in order to drown the pain, Drizzt turned and made his way back farther into the cave, hoping to find something to occupy his attention.
***
A finger twitched.
Slowly, Tomar Aldorin blinked open his eyes.
His mind was as in a fog, and he simply lay, blinking stupidly in the haze of his thoughts, searching for some recollection of what had occurred.
He rolled slowly onto his back and clambered to his feet, swaying unsteadily, feeling light-headed. Rubbing his temples, he glanced around, noting the smoldering ruin that was his fire and the absence of Do'Urden. He turned completely around, fumbling for his slender dagger.
He noted the disturbances in the dust on the cave floor where the drow had lain, and then the scuff marks of boots leading deeper into the caves.
Tomar took a step in pursuit, then paused, feeling something was out of place. He reached up and felt for his ruby. It was gone. Taken by the thieving drow, likely. Tomar snarled in rage.
He was going to kill that drow, if it was the last thing he did.
He didn't even think that it probably would be.
***
Drizzt moved easily through the darkness, marveling at the energy and strength he had regained so quickly. It was the ruby, he knew, feeling it working its magic upon him as he strode amid the stalagmites and stalactites.
Soon he found the cave narrowing into a tunnel of sorts that narrowed and sloped downwards at a slight angle. He followed it.
The tunnel ended a few minutes later and he emerged on the edge of a ledge which dropped down suddenly. With his superior infrared vision, Drizzt clearly saw that the drop off was not completely vertical, but sloped at a steep angle down and out of sight in a sort of extremely rough slide.
His keen ears picked up the sound of breathing, a long way off, from below.
He was just contemplating whether he wanted to go investigate when something slammed into him from behind. The drow staggered, the air knocked from his chest, and he fell to the hard stone, his attacker atop him. He bucked with all of his strength, tossing his opponent off of him, then rolled. Just in time, it turned out, as a dagger drove into the ground where his head had been only a split second before. He grabbed the arm and bodily flipped Tomar over his head, then rolled to his feet, angrily kicking at Tomar as he scrambled to his knees.
Tomar swatted the kick away, which Drizzt hadn't really intended to connect, and pushed himself to his feet.
They squared off, glaring at each other.
Drizzt slid his scimitars out of their sheaths slowly, menacingly, making sure that there was a clear "shing!" as he drew them.
They began to circle each other until Drizzt had his back to the drop behind them. Tomar struck, dagger glinting as it sliced through the air. Drizzt caught the blade and flipped it up and out of the way, then followed with a slash from Twinkle. Tomar dodged awkwardly, yet still managed to avoid being struck. In the position he was in, Drizzt realized that he was seriously vulnerable, with Twinkle extended straight out and Icingdeath down and by his thigh. Tomar saw the opening and took it, jabbing for Drizzt's ribs with his dagger.
Drizzt, realizing that the human was too close to effectively parry the strike, leaped back out of the way, and was suddenly aware that he was out of room as he landed with his heels over open air. Suddenly unbalanced, Drizzt's arms went out to the sides to steady him, and Tomar attacked, slamming into the drow, dagger eager to stab.
Drizzt over balanced, grabbing onto Tomar's hair with one hand as he tipped backward, and they plunged unseeing into the darkness.
***
Just after the moon had passed the midpoint in its nightly journey, Catti- brie awoke from the coma. The clerics praised their dwarven deities, and Bruenor wept openly, muttering "me girl" fervently between sobs.
She was still very weak, and the internal bleeding continued. Soon after, she fell asleep, and slipped once again into the depths of the coma, the darkness, the hardest battle she had ever fought.
Some hours passed and her skin began to again take on a deadened look before Pwent Battlerager burst in looking agitated, hopping about in frustration.
"There be an elf to see ye me king," he said.
"Bah," snorted Bruenor softly, shaking his head. "I be seein' no one this night. Me girl's passing before me eyes and I'll not waste words with the likes of-"
"Lady Alustriel, perhaps?" asked a beautiful and amused voice from behind the gruff dwarf.
Bruenor spun around to see the frail and beautiful, and softly glowing, Lady Alustriel, leader of Silverymoon, a great city to the south.
"Me lady!" stuttered Bruenor embarrassedly.
"It is all right, Bruenor Battlehammer. We have more concerns this night than your manners, especially under such circumstances."
"But-but, how could ye have gotten....I mean, how did ye....." the flustered dwarf blurted out.
Alustriel smiled, an expression destined to warm the heart of even the surliest of dwarves.
But then the smile was gone, and Alustriel wore a very grave look.
"I have had a vision, my dwarven friend." Her voice was deadly serious. "A glimpse of what is to come."
She paused for a long moment, as if debating about how much to say, then glanced at Catti-brie.
"But even with the direness of what I have seen, there is yet hope," she said, never looking away from the pale form of Catti-brie. She turned her gaze back to Bruenor.
"Then ye've come for me Catti-brie?" Bruenor's face brightened considerably with that hope.
"I have. Wulfgar travels north as well. I sent a messenger to him. And I have brought a potion."
Bruenor leaped off of the bed to his feet with happiness.
"An' it'll be healin' me Catti-brie?"
"That is the hope. It is not clear how far our friend Catti-brie has slipped from the living, but there is yet hope that she will live."
While she spoke, Alustriel moved closer to the prone woman, knelt by the large (by dwarven standards) bed, and produced a small glass vial from the depths of her magnificent, pure white dress.
She breathed a word quietly at the top of the vial, and the potent liquid began to brighten as if a miniature star were contained within.
Leaning in toward Catti-brie's face, Alustriel gently lifted the vial to the pale lips of the prone woman and poured the contents down her throat.
The beautiful elf turned to Bruenor again and smiled.
"Now we must hope," Alustriel said.
Somewhere in the background Pwent Battlerager muttered "grow yerself a beard, girly elf."
***
Drizzt slammed into the stone ground, the air in his lungs blasted out in an explosive gasp as the two struggling adversaries began to slide down the rough rock, Tomar above Drizzt, trying to bring his dagger to bear, Drizzt latching upon the wrist and refusing to release it.
Drizzt was on his back, sliding down the chute headfirst, unable to see where he was going. Unable to escape the iron grip of the enraged drow, Tomar began punching and striking Drizzt with his free and empty hand.
Drizzt kicked out, trying to throw Tomar from him. Tomar tipped to the side, still held fast by the drow, and they began to roll, one over the other, as they slid and fought.
The world spun around Drizzt dizzily as he tried to focus on the human attempting to kill him. Somehow he found that difficult what with his back slamming into the ground every second or so as their uncontrollable roll continued, down into the gloom.
After several minutes of rolling in the darkness, the chute evened out into a large cavern. As they neared, Drizzt twisted the knife in Tomar's grasp, and they hit the level area with the force of a giant's blow, the air knocked out of both of their lungs. Tomar landed with his back to the ground, Drizzt atop him, the weight of the drow impaling Tomar with his own knife.
His momentum continuing, Drizzt rolled by the human, who gasped in agony and pain as the ice-cold blade slipped into his belly.
Drizzt rolled to his feet in the dark, seeing easily, his eyes two angry lavender pricks in the darkness.
Tomar, hands shaking weakly, slowly pulled the dagger from his belly, hearing it fall clattering away to the stone. He slowly rolled to his stomach and staggered to his feet weakly, hands pressing against the tide of blood soiling his tunic.
Drizzt stared hard at the thief.
"Do you remember what I told you that day on the road, when I rescued you from the wizard?" Drizzt asked, his voice rasping coldly in the quiet gloom.
Tomar looked at him in horror, a thin trail of blood flowing from the corner of his mouth, his eyes adjusting to the gloom to see Drizzt. He did remember. The panther!
Drizzt slowly lifted his arm, holding the panther figurine, a cold and dangerous look in his eyes. "I keep my promises, thief," he breathed.
"No!" shouted Tomar and turned, staggering, limping into the gloom.
"Guenhwyvar," said Drizzt, calling the panther.
The mist appeared and soon the cat was before him.
There was a long silence in the darkness as Drizzt stared after the receding back of the thief.
Then he pointed after the fleeing fool.
"Kill," he snarled.
***
Tomar Aldorin staggered into the gloom, running blindly. There was a sharp and constant burning pain in his belly as if it were afire. He clutched at the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. He glanced behind, imaging that horrible panther on his heels, maw slathering.
The way was empty behind him, but that hardly comforted the terrified human. Likely it was stalking him!
And then he tripped, falling forward, into nothing. He felt himself sliding, down, down.
He emerged into golden light as he rolled headlong into a pile of coins, scattering them across the stones, tinkling and bouncing. He was barely conscious, darkness eating at his vision. He wasn't feeling much anymore.
"Greetings, challenger!" came a terrible voice. "You die."
Tomar glanced up and found a great reptilian head grinning evilly at him.
The maw opened and pure bluish cold issued forth faster than Tomar could have thought possible.
He didn't even have time to scream.
***
Guenhwyvar continued to look at Drizzt.
"Get after him!" the angry drow bellowed.
Guen did not move, just looked at Drizzt with an expression bordering on disappointment.
"Kill him!" screamed Drizzt in sheer anger. He was trembling with a rage greater than he knew was in him. His blood boiled. Why did she not obey him?
"I command you to kill that man!" shouted Drizzt, shivering in almost uncontrollable anger, his purple eyes glittering in lavender rage, pointing in the general direction Tomar had disappeared in.
Guenhwyvar pointedly ignored him and sat on her haunches, never breaking eye contact with Drizzt. Drizzt lost control and moved forward, hand raised to strike. She flinched back, turning her face away, ears flat, squinting.
Drizzt paused, hand in midair, frozen in shock at what he had almost done. Guen slowly turned her head back and gave Drizzt a piercingly wounded stare.
His mind rocketed back to Masoj and how he had seen the evil drow wizard treat Guenhwyvar. He remembered every single time when Guenhwyvar had stood by him alone, every time she had unquestioningly followed him into a dangerous situation, every time she had saved his life.
And he found himself on his knees, arms about her powerful neck, head next to hers.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling perfectly miserable. He felt tears coming, but the moment was broken with the echoing sound of a great and terrible roar of triumph.
Startled, Drizzt rolled to the right, scimitars appearing in his hands as if willed there.
He glanced at Guenhwyvar, who was growling, her fangs bared. There was an almost eager light in Drizzt's eyes.
Silently, the pair moved off in the direction of the sound.
***
BurningIce found itself pleased with the kill, yet disappointed with the swiftness of the conflict. It had waited for so long, so many centuries, and now its only conflict in two hundred years was over. Finished. Ended. The dragon worried that it might not even see another challenger again. It mused that perhaps it should have toyed with its prey a bit longer before finishing it.
It was very disappointed indeed.
***
Drizzt and Guenhwyvar crept along the cavernous tunnels. Soon they came upon a large gaping hole in the floor of the tunnel. Creeping nearer, Drizzt moved to his hands and knees, carefully crawling forward to peer down into the hole.
There was a pile of coins and treasure stacked so high that Drizzt could almost reach down and touch it. He leaned farther down, sticking his head through the hole and scanning the huge cavern. It was filled-packed-with countless treasure. Huge mounds, mountains even, of the stuff lay scattered everywhere.
He barely had time to react. He yanked his head out of the hole, and rolled back away from the lip, just as a gout of pure cold blasted through the hole and froze the ceiling solid.
"You are quick, little thief," said a terrible voice from below, a voice with a slight hint of admiration.
"Dragon..." whispered Drizzt in despair. He had faced a Frost Dragon before, but then he had been assisting Wulfgar, and they had tied in slaying the beast. Later, in the depths of Mithril Hall, the companions had faced another dragon, a dragon that had almost taken Bruenor from them, that had nearly killed them all. Drizzt had no interest in facing one again, especially alone.
"I have vanquished your friend," the taunting voice of the dragon echoed up at him. Drizzt found he hardly cared.
Suddenly, he realized that if he wished to end his life this would be the perfect way to go. He felt his emotions fade, all except for rage, the most valuable and dangerous emotion of all. He fell into the Hunter.
Then, nodding to Guenhwyvar, who understood her master's intentions perfectly, he watched her move into position in front of him.
Then the panther let out a horrible roar and dove out of sight, through the hole and slid down the mountain of treasure, Drizzt at her tail, sliding down the other side of the mound.
***
Entreri had traveled for many hours up and down mountains, still running from the many orcs that had pursued him. He thought he had lost them, though they could possibly be watching him at that moment. He had just reached the highest peak in the Spine of the World and set a fire some way below the absolute peak, on a flat stretch of ground. The day was unusually warm for the start of winter in the Dale. Not quite cold enough for snow.
He glanced into the sky and found dark clouds sliding over to obscure the moon, and a few moments later felt the telltale droplets of rain. He quickly threw a cloak over his head.
It was going to be a long night.
***
The cat charged down the slope and attacked the surprised dragon, leaping at it, claws raking the hard scales and jaws trying to find something to bite.
Drizzt slid down the other side of the treasure mound, Guenhwyvar's attack perfectly distracting the dragon long enough for Drizzt to enter the cave unnoticed. He slid down it upright, remaining upon his feet, balance perfect, as if he were skiing.
Ignoring the sounds of battle for the moment, Drizzt reached the bottom of the mound of treasure and moved around the base in the quiet shadows.
He tripped over something and fell to the ground. He was in plain sight of the dragon, though it was busy with Guenhwyvar and did not look his direction. He snatched whatever it was that tripped him up and discovered a magnificent crossbow with a blood-red bolt and a SEPARATE purple-colored jewel of some sort. Grinning, he took up the crossbow, pocketed the jewel and rolled to his feet, sprinting up the side of a large mound of treasure. Peaking the crest, he lifted the crossbow and pulled the trigger.
The bolt exploded fiery-red in the shadows and blasted towards the dragon like a rocket, trailing a line of glowing ash. Unused to the bow, Drizzt's shot was just off the mark and ricoched off of the hard scales of the behemoth's back and shot into the roof of the cavern high above.
There was a flash of bright light and darkness became like day for a split second before it faded, amid the sound of buckling rock from above.
***
Entreri gasped as a section of ground ten feet in diameter suddenly glowed red-hot and exploded upward into the air, pelting him with rocks and debris, throwing him backwards to roll onto his stomach. He blinked dirt out of his eyes, still seeing the afterglow of the fire in his vision.
What in the layers of the Abyss was that?
***
Drizzt looked at the crossbow. Another bolt simply materialized, ready to be loosed.
Drizzt fired the crossbow again, this time sailing true and punching a hole in the armored scales of the dragon, a direct broadside which threw the beast's balance off.
Then Drizzt drew his scimitars with a snarl of rage, and charged down the incline of the mound straight for the dragon. Normally, he wouldn't have done something so rashly. But there was a part of him that wanted to die, to fall into the blissful sleep of death. He ignored the Hunter's urge to kill the beast, and simply charged.
It blasted at Guenhwyvar with its icy breath (the cat nimbly leaped out of its path), and turned to the charging Drizzt. It opened its huge maw.
Drizzt never faltered. He knew instinctively that this was the end. He embraced it, hefting his scimitars in defiance and shouted all of his rage, his hate, his anguish at the beast before him. If emotions could become weapons, BurningIce would have been a greasy smear on the side of the cave.
It casually blasted the drow full-force with its deadly ice breath.
There was no escape.
***
Entreri staggered to his feet, dust and rubble falling away from his clothes. Confusion etched on his face, he fell to his hands and knees and crawled to the edge of the smoldering hole and stared down into the cavern, instantly assessing the battle below.
His eyes lighted on a familiar drow.
Drizzt Do'Urden.
His eyes narrowed.
***
Drizzt felt a surge of power from his pocket. The purple jewel he had taken had begun to pulse and throb within his tunic. He felt its power all around him.
Drizzt gasped as he felt the energy surge through every inch of his body, a warm flood traveling even to his extremities.
The ice breath struck him and....and....and parted as if blasted to the sides like water around a rock. It flowed around him. He could see it moving around him, over his skin, but he felt nothing. In fact, he kept running.
Recovering from his surprise swiftly, Drizzt saw Guenhwyvar charging again at the dragon, saw the dragon turn away from him, thinking him downed, saw Guenhwyvar leap high into the air, straight for the beast's throat.
He was utterly helpless to what was going to happen. So he charged past the feet of the dragon and dove underneath it, seeking the soft underbelly.
***
Guenhwyvar snarled in rage as the huge mouth, fangs glistening, snapped closed around the panther. She felt the burn of pain as she was impaled by teeth the size of scimitars. She howled in pain, feeling herself grow indistinct, knowing that she was returning to the Astral plane. She howled again, desiring to aid her drow friend. The intelligent panther remembered the Underdark, remembered that moment when Drizzt had been caught in the sticky webs of a cive fisher and about to be killed. She had resisted the magic of the statue then. Drizzt needed her help again. And so she fought the call of the magic with all of her heart and all of her soul.
Stubbornly she fought the call, feeling herself return in full force to the material plane, feeling the driving, burning pain, though she ignored it. She tore herself off of the teeth and half crawled half fell deeper into the mouth of the dragon.
It swallowed, the tongue raising and forcing her down its evil throat. As she disappeared down the gaping maw, Guenhwyvar unsheathed her claws and dug them into the throat, carving great channels as she fell, snarling all the way.
***
The dragon roared in pain, head and neck arcing upward as it did so. Drizzt stabbed with both of his blades, both slipping between scales and into soft flesh. With a growl of rage, Drizzt twisted them.
The dragon reared in agony, roaring again, but this time spewing blood as well.
Glancing down, the dragon saw Drizzt twisting his scimitars in its soft belly. BurningIce swatted Drizzt away, his scimitars sliding free and Drizzt felt himself grasped in powerful talons. Pinned and helpless, Drizzt was lifted close to the dragon's face.
"You were worthy, elf," the dragon stated. Then it flipped Drizzt into the air and opened its sharp mouth.
And it struck.
***
Catti-brie's eyes snapped open. She screamed a single name.
"Drizzt!"
The door to the ante-room where Alustriel and Bruenor had been talking burst open, Bruenor nearly taking it off its hinges as he heard his daughter's voice. He fell upon her, tears obscuring his vision in his happiness, constantly muttering "me girl, me girl," over and over.
Lady Alustriel followed the exuberant dwarf, her face a frown of concern.
Catti-brie was overwhelmed for several moments by the dwarf. Alustriel sat beside Bruenor and put her hand on Catti-brie's shoulder. Catti-brie looked at her weakly, still lying back.
"Where is Drizzt?"
Catti-brie opened her mouth, then closed it again, then finally mustered the strength to speak.
"Spine....of the World."
Lady Alustriel nodded knowingly.
"Destiny is closing in."
She glanced at Bruenor. The teary-eyed dwarf sniffed and raised an eyebrow in question
"What are ye talkin' about?" asked Bruenor.
"I have foreseen this. Events are now unfolding which cannot be changed. The path has been chosen. It must be seen through to the end."
Alustriel looked again at the weak form of Catti-brie.
"Stay with her," she said. "She is yet not well enough to move."
Her voice suddenly turned grave.
"She must not die."
Bruenor nodded.
Alustriel moved forward, knelt down and gripped Bruenor's forearm tightly. She looked grimmly into his eyes.
"She MUST not."
Alustriel stood quickly and moved out of the room, gently closing the doors behind her. She turned and Thibbledwarf Pwent stood behind her.
"Heared me a yell," said the energetic dwarf.
"Catti-brie is awake."
He nodded. She found his stench quite overwhelming even at that distance.
"Do you like battle?" She asked slyly.
"Do fishes like water?" retorted Pwent.
She nodded, smiling. A plan had begun to formulate in her mind.
"Come with me."
***
Drizzt saw the head move towards him in a lighting-fast strike. He didn't think he could cheat fate another time. His arms flailed around him, seeking something, anything, to protect himself from the coming death.
And then he stopped falling. He looked up and found himself locking stares with Artemis Entreri, who had him firmly gripped by the wrist, leaning out over the edge of the hole carved by the wayward crossbow bolt.
The dragon undercompensated, expecting Drizzt to be several feet below his current position. The jaws snapped shut on empty air.
It was the last thing BurningIce ever did.
It was that exact moment that Guenhwyvar ripped apart BurningIce's heart from the inside.
***
Entreri hauled Drizzt out of the cavern and onto the mountain side, into the cold rain. Thunder rumbled and lightning crackled in the air around them, lighting up the night. Black clouds covered the light of the moon.
As soon as his feet were planted firmly on the ground, Drizzt shoved away from Entreri and rolled to his feet, lavender eyes glaring, scimitars gripped firmly in his hands. Twinkle glowed a dim blue.
"I do not believe I have ever seen Drizzt Do'Urden so depressed. Perhaps he has heard that I seek him."
Drizzt scowled.
"You," he growled.
Artemis Entreri raised an eyebrow. "Well met to you too," he said wryly.
He stood on the other side of the smoldering firepit, the dying flames flickering off his face and glowing red eyes, forearms resting lightly on his sword hilt and dagger. He looked perfectly calm.
"Tell me drow, can you ever die?"
"Can you?" snarled Drizzt. The anger within him was building. It wasn't even directed towards Entreri, but at everything that had happened, every hardship that had befallen his companions because he had come to the surface. His banishing of Errtu, which had led to the balor's desire for revenge against him, which had led to his capturing Wulfgar and torturing him for six years, which had led to Aegis-Fang being stolen and sold to a deadly pirate. Drizzt's escaping Menzoberranzan those years ago, which had led to the dishonoring of House Do'Urden and the sacrifice of Drizzt's father to Lloth, the Spider Queen, Goddess of Chaos, which had led to Drizzt's sister coming to Mithril Hall for revenge against him, which had been merely a precursor to Matron Baenre's invasion of Mithril Hall later, costing many lives. He saw Ellifain die. He saw Zaknafein fall into boiling acid.
All of that guilt, and all of that pent up frustration and anger went surging against Artemis Entreri as Drizzt stared at him.
Drizzt was the Hunter again. An intense fire burned in his purple eyes as he bored holes through the face of Entreri.
"Let us finish what we have been trying to for so many years, Drizzt Do'Urden!" said Entreri. He swept his arms about him, indicating their isolation. "Look around you, Do'Urden! No friends, no allies to get in the way this time. Let us finish this. Only one walks away."
Drizzt Do'Urden exploded into motion before Entreri had even finished speaking, leaping over the fire, Twinkle shining with a blinding blue glow.
Upon a mountain top, in the midst of a storm, far in the wild, completely isolated, Drizzt Do'Urden and Artemis Entreri dueled for the final time.
Next Chapter: "The Darkest Hour, the Final Duel"