The Sentinels: Stone of Tymora, Book III by Salvatore R.A. & Salvatore Geno

Author:Salvatore, R.A. & Salvatore, Geno [Salvatore, R.A.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Mirrorstone
Published: 2010-11-08T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

We managed to find a clean stable for Haze, then set out into the glorious city in search of Drizzt. By the time night fell, we’d been kicked out of every tavern and inn in town. Almost everyone had seemed to know the drow—they knew of him, at least. But everybody had looked at us as though we were crazy or just a couple of irritating kids. The best we had gotten out of anyone was, “If I run into him, I’ll let him know a couple of kids’re lookin’ for him.” We got that about a quarter of the time. The rest of the time was more like, “Get outta here. This ain’t no place for kids!”

As we wandered down a particularly dark, winding thoroughfare, Joen asked me, “Well, what now?”

“I think there’s another tavern up the street here,” I replied. “Maybe if we ask people going in or coming out—”

“No,” she interrupted me. “I’m getting tired. We need to find someplace to sleep.”

I shrugged but didn’t answer. I was too busy being frustrated to be tired.

“I’d be happy to curl up in the hay next to Haze,” Joen said, nudging me with her elbow.

I sighed and nodded. “I guess we can try again in the morning.”

The stables were the other way, so we stopped in the empty street and turned around. When we did, we seemed to startle a pair of men a few yards behind us on the street. They recovered quickly, but there was something about their manner that worried me, so I nudged Joen again and used my eyes to indicate the two shadowy figures. We’d both spent enough time in the rough and tumble cities of the Sword Coast to be wary of strangers on the street at night, and though we stayed calm, we were ready for anything as we passed.

The two men stopped walking and one leaned against a building. I could tell they were looking at us as we passed, and though they whispered quietly to each other, I was sure I heard one of them say, “… the stone and be done with it.”

My hand went to my sword, which startled Joen. She stepped away from me and reached for her daggers. On cue, the two men threw back the heavy, black, hooded cloaks they wore and drew wicked slim-bladed daggers of their own.

“Good ears, boy,” one of them said.

I brought my cutlass up to protect myself, and Joen did the same with her daggers.

“We don’t want any trouble, mates,” she said.

The other man smiled, showing a few missing teeth, and said, “Well, girlie, seems as trouble wants you.”

I didn’t recognize either of them, but their intentions were plain to both of us. When they came on, we were ready. And the closer they got, the better I could see them. The symbols of Beshaba, the goddess of bad luck, that both of them wore glinted in the dim moonlight.

“Who sent y—,” I started to ask, but was cut off by a lunging stab from one of the cultists.

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