Neverwinter - By R.A. Salvatore Page 0,69

less than my knowledge that Wulfgar, too, has surely passed on. There are other reasons, I am confident. Bruenor’s last words to me, “I found it, elf,” reflected a full life’s journey, to be sure! What dwarf could ask for more than what King Bruenor Battlehammer knew? His final battle alone, his victory over the pit fiend while immersed in the power of dwarven kings of old, would surely fill to bursting the heart of any dwarf.

So I did not cry for Bruenor, though I surely miss him no less than any of the others.

There is no one answer, then. Life is a complicated journey, and few are the direct lines from feeling to consequence and consequence to anticipation. I will try to unravel it all, of course, as that is my nature, but in the end, I am left now with only one inescapable truth: the joy of that midnight ride, of bargaining with Beniago at the end of a scimitar, of reckless adventure.

The thrill, the edge of the cliff.

This is your promise to Drizzt Do’Urden, my lady Dahlia the erotic, the erratic.

And this is your legacy to Drizzt Do’Urden, my old Companions of the Hall.

Do you see me now, Catti-brie?

Do you see me now, Bruenor?

Do you see me now, Regis?

Do you see me now, Wulfgar?

Because I see you. You walk with me. You are in my thoughts every day, all four, and I see you smile when I smile and frown when I hurt. I believe this, I sense this.

I pray for this.

—Drizzt Do’Urden

DRIZZT MOVED TO THE BACK OF THE SMALL ENCAMPMENT, coming to the edge of the bluff overlooking the riverbank. Dahlia was at the cold stream, her boots and black leather hat on the ground beside her. Her black hair was still in its fashionably shoulder-length cut, swept forward, and her woad remained hidden by the makeup … or was it the other way around, where the woad was the makeup and this was the real Dahlia?

Drizzt chuckled as he considered that, for the illusion that was Dahlia resonated with him on many more levels than her physical appearance. It was a helpless chuckle, for he held no hope that he would unwind the mysteries of Dahlia anytime soon.

She slipped her shapely leg into the stream, then drew it forth and rubbed at her sore and still discolored foot. She looked at the unsightly puncture and shook her head with obvious disgust.

“Which is real and which the illusion?” Drizzt asked, skipping down the steep incline to stand beside her. He noted that she wore a new piece of jewelry, a black diamond in her right ear, complimenting the ten diamond studs in her left.

“Both and neither,” Dahlia answered dismissively. She grimaced as she squeezed her foot, bringing forth some pus and blood from the wound.

“Are you so afraid that the truth of Dahlia will be revealed?”

Dahlia looked up at him sourly, and shook her head as if his question wasn’t worth her trouble.

“We owe a great debt to Meg the farmer woman and Ben the Brewer,” Drizzt remarked.

“You would start babbling about them again?” Dahlia snapped back. “Had you returned to the farmhouse a few moments later, I would’ve been one foot lighter. Or both of them would’ve lain dead at my feet.”

“They would’ve taken your foot only because they thought it the only way to save your life.”

“They would’ve tried to take my foot and I would’ve killed them both,” Dahlia insisted.

“You would’ve killed a mother in front of her children?”

“I would’ve asked the children to turn around first,” Dahlia sarcastically replied.

Drizzt laughed at her unrelenting sourness, but Dahlia only glared at him all the more. For a moment, just a heartbeat, Drizzt almost expected her to jump up and attack him then and there.

“Damn you, Beniago,” the woman muttered, squeezing her aching foot yet again.

“He provided the antidote,” Drizzt said.

“Then he’s a fool, because he saved the life of one who will kill him.”

“It wasn’t Beniago who set the traps,” Drizzt reminded her.

“It was Beniago who forced me from the rope to the floor.”

“He defends the wares of Ship Kurth.”

“And you would defend him?”

“Hardly. Didn’t I arrive to chase him off?”

Dahlia spat on her foot and squeezed it again. A dribble of blood and greenish-white pus slipped out. “Killing him will wound Ship Kurth, and make it clear that I’m not one to be toyed with.”

“Ah, that’s it, then,” Drizzt said with a grin. “It’s your embarrassment at being outfoxed.”

Dahlia narrowed her eyes threateningly.

“High

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