Starless Night by Salvatore R.A

Author:Salvatore, R.A. [R.A., Salvatore,]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-08-06T14:30:21.193000+00:00

“Nying so, wucka, ” the goblin said again, pointing to Guenhwy

var, then to the far exit, and it gingerly stepped aside so that the

drow could pass.

Catti-brie swept across the rest of the chamber, backhand slap

ping one goblin that didn’t get far enough out of her path. The crea

ture came right back at her, sword raised, but Catti-brie didn’t

flinch, and a cry from the goblin leader, still with the panther curled

about its ankles, stopped the goblin’s response.

Catti-brie laughed in its ugly face, showed it that she held her

own dagger, a magnificent, jeweled thing, ready under the folds of

her beautiful robes.

She made it to the narrower tunnel and continued walking

slowly for many steps. Then she stopped, glanced back, and pulled

out the panther figurine.

Back in the chamber, the goblin leader was showing off its new

acquisition to the tribe, explaining how it had outsmarted a “stupid

drow female thing, ” and had taken the cat as its own. It didn’t mat

ter that the other goblins had witnessed the whole affair; in goblin

culture, history was recreated almost daily.

The leader’s smug smile waned quickly when a gray mist rose

up about the panther, and the cat’s material form began to melt

away.

The goblin wailed a stream of protests and curses and dropped

to its knees to grab the fast fading cat.

A huge paw shot out of the mist, hooked around the leader’s

head, and yanked the wretch in. Then there was only mist, the sur

prised and not too smart goblin leader going along with the pan

ther on a ride to the Astral Plane.

The remaining goblins hooted and ran all about, bumping into

and falling over each other. Some thought to take up the chase for

the departing drow, but by the time they began to organize, Catti

brie was long gone, running with all speed along the corridor and

thinking herself positively clever.

The tunnels were familiar to him, too familiar. How many

times had young Drizzt Do’Urden traveled these ways, usually

serving as the point in a drow patrol? Then he had Guenhwyvar

with him; now he was alone.

He limped slightly, one of his knees still a bit weak from the

svirfneblin nooker.

He couldn’t use that as an excuse to remain in Blingdenstone

any longer, though. He knew that his business was pressing, and

Belwar, though the parting stung the burrow warden, had not

argued with Drizzt’s decision to be on his way, an indication to

Drizzt that the other svirfnebli wished him gone.

That had been two days ago, two days and about fifty miles of

winding caverns. Drizzt had crossed the trails of at least three drow

patrols on his way, an unusually high number of warriors to be out

so far from Menzoberranzan, and that led credence to Belwar’s

claim that something dangerous was brewing, that the Spider

Queen was hungry. On all three of those occasions, Drizzt could

have tracked down the drow group and attempted to link up. He

thought of concocting some story that he was an emissary from a

merchant of Ched Nasad. All three times, Drizzt had lost his nerve,

had kept moving instead toward Menzoberranzan, putting off that

fateful moment when he would make contact.

Now the tunnels were too familiar, and that moment was nearly

upon him.

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