"The fiend, as is always the case with such denizens, can get to the Prime Material Plane only with assistance from a priest or a wizard," Cadderly explained. "Any of that ilk who so desired such a beast could find many, many waiting for their call, even other balors. The freeing of Errtu, if indeed Errtu is free, is not so much a travesty."
Put in that context, it made sense to Drizzt and to Catti-brie. Those who desired to call a fiend to their service would find no shortage; the Abyss was full of powerful denizens, all eager to come forth and wreak havoc among the mortals.
"The thing I fear," Cadderly admitted, "is that this particular balor hates you above all, Drizzt. He may, despite his last words, seek you out if he ever gets back to our world."
"Or I will seek out Errtu," Drizzt replied evenly, unafraid, and that brought a smile to Cadderly's lips. It was just the response he had hoped to hear from the courageous drow. Here was a mighty warrior in the war for good, Cadderly knew. The priest held great faith that if such a battle were to come about, Drizzt and his friends would prevail, and the torment of Drizzt's father would come to an end.
*****
Waillan Micanty and Dunkin Tallmast arrived at the Spirit Soaring later that day, and found Captain Deudermont outside the structure, relaxing in the shade of a tree, feeding strange nuts to a white squirrel.
"Percival," Deudermont explained to the two men, holding his hand out to the squirrel. As soon as Percival snatched the treat, Deudermont pointed out Pikel Bouldershoulder, hard at work as always, tending his many gardens. "Pikel over there informs me that Percival is a personal friend of Cadderly's."
Waillan and Dunkin exchanged doubting looks, neither having a clue as to what Deudermont might be talking about.
"It is not important," the captain remarked, rising to his feet and brushing the twigs from his trousers. "What news on the Sea Sprite?"
"The repairs are well underway," replied Waillan. "Many of Carradoon's fishermen have joined in to help. They have even found a tree suitable to replace the mast."
"A friendly lot, these men of Carradoon," Dunkin put in.
Deudermont regarded Dunkin for a while, pleased at the subtle changes he had witnessed in the man. This was not the same surly and conniving emissary who had first come to the Sea Sprite in the name of Lord Tarnheel Embuirhan in search of Drizzt Do'Urden. The man was a fine sailor and a fine companion according to Waillan, and Deudermont planned to offer him a full-time position as a crewman aboard the Sea Sprite as soon as they figured out how to get the ship back in the Sea of Swords where she belonged.
"Robillard is in Carradoon," Waillan said unexpectedly, catching the captain off guard, though Deudermont never doubted that the wizard had survived the storm and would eventually find them. "Or he was. He might have gone back to Waterdeep by now. He says that he can get us back where we belong."
"But it will cost us," added Dunkin. "For the wizard will need help from his brotherhood, an exceptionally greedy lot, by Robillard's own admission."
Deudermont wasn't very concerned about that. The Lords of Waterdeep would likely reimburse any expenses. The captain did note Dunkin's use of the word "us," and that pleased him more than a little.
"Robillard said that it would take him some time to organize it all," Waillan finished. "But we're two weeks from repairing the Sea Sprite in any case, and with the help, it's easier fixing her here than in Waterdeep."
Deudermont only nodded. Pikel came bobbing over then, stealing the attention of Waillan and Dunkin. That was fine with Deudermont. The details of returning the Sea Sprite where she belonged would work themselves out, he did not doubt. Robillard was a competent and loyal wizard. But the captain saw a parting of the ways in his immediate future, for two friends (three, counting Guenhwyvar) wouldn't likely go back with the ship, or if they did, they wouldn't likely remain with her for long.
Chapter 16 THE BAIT
"Icewind Dale," Drizzt said, before the three had even left the room of summoning.
Cadderly looked surprised, but as soon as Catti-brie heard the words, she understood what Drizzt was talking about and agreed with his reasoning. "Ye're thinking that the fiend'll go after the crystal shard," she explained, more for Cadderly's sake than for any need of confirmation.
"If ever Errtu does get back to our world, then he will certainly go for the artifact," Drizzt replied.
Cadderly knew nothing about this crystal shard they referred to, but he realized that the pair believed they were on to something important. "You are sure of this?" he asked Drizzt.
The drow nodded. "When first I met Errtu, it was on a windswept mountain above the Spine of the World, in the place called Kelvin's Cairn in Icewind Dale," he explained. "The fiend had come to the call of the wizard who possessed Crenshinibon-the crystal shard-a most powerful artifact of evil."
"And where is this artifact?" Cadderly asked, suddenly seeming quite concerned. The priest had some experience in dealing
with evil artifacts, had once put his own life and the lives of those he loved in jeopardy for the sake of destroying such an item.
"Buried," Catti-brie replied. "Buried under a mountain o' snow and rock by an avalanche down the side o' Kelvin's Cairn." She looked more at Drizzt than the priest as she spoke, her expression showing that she was beginning to doubt the drow's reasoning.
"The item is sentient," the ranger reminded her. "A malignant tool that will not accept such solitude. If Errtu gets back to our world, he will go to Icewind Dale in search of Crenshinibon, and if he is near to the thing, it will call out to him."
Cadderly agreed. "You must destroy this crystal shard," he said so determinedly that he caught them by surprise. "That is paramount."
Drizzt wasn't sure that he agreed with that priority, not with his father apparently held prisoner by the balor. But he did agree that the world would be a better place without the likes of Crenshinibon.
"How does one destroy so powerful an artifact?" the ranger dared to ask.
"I do not know. Each artifact has specific ways in which it may be undone," Cadderly replied. "A few years ago, when I was young, it was asked by my god to destroy the Ghearufu, a sentient and evil thing. I had to seek … to demand assistance from a great red dragon."
"A few years ago when I was young," Catti-brie repeated under her breath, so that neither of the others could hear.
"Thus I put it upon you now to find and destroy Crenshinibon, this artifact that you call the crystal shard."
"I'm not knownin' any dragons," Catti-brie remarked dryly.
Drizzt actually did know of another red, but he kept that quiet, having no desire to face the great wyrm called Hephaestus again and hoping that Cadderly would offer an alternative.
"When you have the item in your possession and Errtu is dealt with, then bring it back to me," Cadderly said. "Together, with the guidance of Deneir, we will discover how the crystal shard might be destroyed."
"Ye make it sound so easy," Catti-brie added, and again, her tone was ripe with sarcasm.
"Hardly," Cadderly said. "But I hold fast my faith. Would it please you more if I said 'if' instead of 'when'?»
"I'm gettin' yer point," Catti-brie replied.
Cadderly smiled broadly and draped an arm about the young woman's sturdy shoulders. Catti-brie didn't shy away from that embrace in the least, finding that she truly liked the priest. There was nothing about Cadderly that made her uncomfortable, except perhaps the casual way in which Cadderly dealt with such powers as Errtu and the crystal shard. Now that was confidence!
"We can't be gettin' the crystal shard out from under the pile," Catti-brie reasoned to Drizzt.
"Likely, it will find its own way out," Cadderly said. "Likely, it already has."
"Or Errtu will discover it," said Drizzt.
"So we're to go to Icewind Dale and wait?" Catti-brie huffed, suddenly realizing the depth of the task before them. "Ye're wanting to sit and serve as guardians? For how many centuries?"
Drizzt
also wasn't pleased by the prospect, but the responsibility seemed clear to him, now that Errtu was apparently freed. The thought of seeing Zaknafein again would hold the drow even if it meant centuries of servitude.
"We will take it as the fates give it to us," Drizzt told Catti-brie. "We have a long road ahead of us, and yes, perhaps a long wait after that."
"There is a temple of Deneir in Luskan," Cadderly interjected. "That is near to this place called Icewind Dale, is it not?"
"The closest city south of the mountains," Drizzt replied.
"I can get you there," Cadderly said. "Together the three of us can walk the wind to Luskan."
Drizzt considered the prospects. It was nearly midsummer and many merchants would be on their way through Luskan, bound for Ten-Towns to trade for the valuable knucklehead trout scrimshaw. If Cadderly could get them to Luskan quickly, they would have little trouble in joining a caravan to Icewind Dale.
Only then did Drizzt realize yet another obstacle. "What of our friends?" he asked.
Catti-brie and Cadderly looked to each other. In the excitement, they had both nearly forgotten about Deudermont and the stranded Sea Sprite.
"I cannot take so many," Cadderly admitted. "And certainly, I cannot take a ship!"
Drizzt thought it over for a moment. "But we must go," he said to Catti-brie.
"I'm thinking that Deudermont's to like sailin' on a lake," Catti-brie retorted sarcastically. "Not many pirates about, and if he opened the Sea Sprite's sails wide, then suren he'd find himself a mile into the stinkin' woods!"
Drizzt seemed to deflate under the weight of her honest words. "Let us go and find the captain," he replied. "Perhaps we will retrieve Harkle Harpell. He put the Sea Sprite in Impresk Lake, let him get her back where she belongs!"
Catti-brie mumbled something under her breath, her tone too low for Drizzt to decipher the actual words. He knew what she thought of Harkle though, and could imagine them readily enough.
The three found Deudermont, Waillan and Dunkin sitting with Ivan and Pikel along the walk outside of the Spirit Soaring's front doors. Deudermont told them the news of Robillard and the plan to get back where they belonged, which came as a great relief to both Drizzt and Catti-brie. The two looked to each other, and Deudermont knew them well enough to understand the gist of what was going on.
"You are leaving us," he reasoned. "You cannot wait the two or three weeks it will take Robillard to facilitate our return."
"Cadderly can get us to Luskan," Drizzt replied. "In less than two or three weeks, I hope to be in Ten-Towns."
The news put a pall on the previously lighthearted conversation. Even Pikel, who hardly knew what the others were talking about, issued a long and forlorn, "Ooooo."
Deudermont tried to find a way out of this, but he recognized the inevitable. His place was with the Sea Sprite, and given the high stakes, Drizzt and Catti-brie had no choice but to follow the words of the blind seer. Besides, Deudermont had not missed their expressions when Ivan had informed them that Bruenor had left Mithril Hall. Drizzt said he was going back to Ten-Towns, to Icewind Dale, and that was likely where Bruenor had gone.
"Perhaps if we get back to the Sword Coast before the weather turns toward winter, I'll sail the Sea Sprite around the bend and into the Sea of Moving Ice," Deudermont said, his way of bidding his friends farewell. "I would like to visit this Icewind Dale."
"My home," Drizzt said solemnly.
Catti-brie nodded to Drizzt and to Deudermont. She was never comfortable with goodbyes and she knew that was exactly what this was.
It was time to go home.
Chapter 17 THE FEEL OF POWER
Stumpet Rakingclaw plodded through the snow halfway up the side of Kelvin's Cairn. The dwarf knew that her course was risky, for the melt in Icewind Dale was on in full and the mountain was not so high that its temperature remained below the point of freezing. The dwarf could feel the wetness seeping through her thick leather boots, and more than once she heard telltale rumblings of the complaining snow.
The stubborn dwarf plowed on, thrilled by the potential danger. This whole slope could go tumbling down; avalanches were not uncommon on Kelvin's Cairn, where the melt came fast. Stumpet felt like a true adventurer at that moment, braving ground she believed no one had trod in many years. She knew little of the region's history, for she had gone to Mithril Hall along with Dagna and the thousands from Citadel Adbar and had been too busy working in the mines to pay attention to the stories the members of Clan Battlehammer told of Icewind Dale.
Stumpet did not know the story of the most famous avalanche on this very mountain. She did not know that Drizzt and Akar
Kessel had waged their last battle here before the ground had fallen out from under them, burying Kessel.
Stumpet stopped and reached into a pouch, producing a bit of lard. She uttered a minor enchantment and touched the lard to pursed lips, enacting a spell to help her ward off the chill. The season was fast turning to summer down below, but the wind up here was cold still and the dwarf was wet. Even as she finished, she heard another rumble and looked up to the mountain's peak, which was still two hundred feet away. For the first time she wondered if she could really get there.
Kelvin's Cairn was certainly not a large mountain. If it had been near Adbar, Stumpet's birthplace, or near Mithril Hall, it wouldn't even have been called a mountain at all. It was just a hillock, a thousand-foot-high clump of rock. But out here on the flat tundra, it seemed a mountain, and Stumpet Rakingclaw was a dwarf who considered the challenge of climbing to be the primary purpose of any mountain. She knew that she could have waited until late summer, when there would have been little snow remaining on Kelvin's Cairn and the ground would be more accessible, but the dwarf had never been known for her patience. Anyway, the mountain wouldn't be much of a challenge without the dangerous, shifting snow.
"Don't ye be falling on me," Stumpet said to the mountain. "And don't ye take me all the way back down!"
She spoke too loudly and, as if in answer, the mountain gave a tremendous groan. Suddenly Stumpet was sliding backward.
"Oh, damn ye!" she cursed, taking up her huge pick, looking for a hold. She tumbled over backward, but kept herself oriented enough to dodge a jutting stone and to set her pick firmly into its side. Her muscles strained as the snow washed past, but it was not too deep and the force of it not too strong.
A moment later all was quiet again, save the distant echoes, and Stumpet pulled herself out of the giant snowball that she and the supporting rock had become.
Then she noticed a curious shard of ice lying on the now bare ground. Coming free of the snow pile, the dwarf gave the strangely shaped item little thought. She moved up to a spot of bare ground and brushed herself off as thoroughly as possible before the snow could melt on her and further wet her already sopping clothing.
Her eyes kept roving back to the crystal. It didn't seem so extraordinary, just a hunk of ice. And yet, the dwarf got the distinct feeling deep in her gut that it was more than that.
For a few moments, Stumpet managed to fend off the unreasonable urges and concentrate on getting herself ready to continue her climb.
The piece of crystal kept calling to her, just below her conscious level, beckoning her to pick it up.
Before she realized what she was doing, she had the item in hand. Not ice, she realized immediately, for it was warm to the touch, warm and somehow comforting. She held it up to the light. It appeared to be a square-sided icicle, barely a foot long. Stum-pet paused and removed her gloves.
"Crystal," she muttered in confirmation, for the warm item did not have the slick feel of ice. Stumpet closed her eyes, concentrating on her tactile sense, trying to feel the true temperature of the item.
"Me spell," the dwarf whispered, thinking she had figured out the mystery. She chanted again, dispelling the magic she had just enacted to fend off the cold.
Still the crystal shard felt warm. Stumpet rubbed her hands across its side and its
warmth spread out even to her wet toes.
The dwarf scratched the stubble on her chin and looked around to see if anything else might have dislodged in the small avalanche. She was thinking clearly now, reasoning through this unexpected mystery. But all she saw was white and gray and brown, the unremarkable tapestry that was Kelvin's Cairn. That didn't deter her suspicions. Again she held the crystal shard aloft, watching the play of sunlight through its depths.
"A magical ward against the cold," she said aloud. "A merchant brought ye on a trip to the dale," she reasoned. "Might be that he was seeking some treasure up here, or just that he came up here to get a better look around, thinking that ye'd protect him. And from the cold, ye did," she reasoned confidently, "but not from the snowfall that buried him!"
There, she had it figured out. Stumpet felt herself lucky indeed to have found such a useful item in the empty wasteland that was Kelvin's Cairn. She looked to the south, where the tall peaks of the Spine of the World, perpetually covered in snow, loomed in a gray mist. Suddenly, the dwarven priestess was
thinking of where this crystal shard might take her. What mountain would be beyond her if she carried such protection? She could climb them all in a single journey, and her name would be revered among the dwarves!
Already Crenshinibon, the crystal shard, the sentient and insidious artifact was at work, imparting subtle promises of Stumpet's deepest desires upon her. Crenshinibon recognized this wielder, not only a dwarf, but a dwarven priestess, and was not pleased. Dwarves were a stubborn and difficult lot, and resistant to magic. But still, the most evil of artifacts was glad to be out of the snow, glad that someone had returned to Kelvin's Cairn to bear Crenshinibon away.
The crystal shard was back among the realm of the living now, back where it might cause more havoc.
*****
He crept along the tunnels, measuring his steps by the rhythmic pounding of dwarven hammers. The fit of the tight place was not comfortable, not for one used to the stars as his ceiling, and tall Kierstaad sometimes had to get down on his knees to pass through low archways.
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