prudent to go and investigate?” Alegni scolded.
“I thought my information regarding the Thayans and this catastrophe they’re planning was more urgent.”
“And you haven’t thought that these events might be connected? Is there, perhaps, a red dragon just northeast of here, waiting to fly to this Sylora creature’s call?” As he spoke, the Netherese commander walked to the bridge’s edge closest the distant spectacle and locked his hands on the rail, peering to the north.
“And if I went there and couldn’t return to you in time, you would be even less prepared,” Barrabus argued.
Alegni didn’t look back at him.
“I grant you that,” the tiefling said after a short pause. “Go there now and learn what you may.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Barrabus scowling. “It’s not so far.”
“Difficult terrain, far from the road.”
“You speak as if I—“Alegni started to say, but he stopped when Barrabus’s eyes went wide with shock.
Herzgo Alegni spun back toward the plume, toward the low mountain——the low mountain that had leaped into the sky, it seemed, solid rock transforming into something more malleable, like a cloud of impossibly thick ash.
The Ashmadai in Neverwinter Wood fell to their knees in prayer and joy, overwhelmed at the sight of what they knew would be the beginning of a grand Dread Ring.
“Oh, but the gods are with us!” Sylora cried as the mountain flew high, and she noted the angle of the blast. “If I had aimed it myself …”
The fall of the mountain seemed perfectly aimed at the city of Neverwinter—and indeed it was. Mount Hotenow had not simply erupted. The angry primordial sought carnage as hungrily as did Szass Tam.
Sylora dropped her arm across Dahlia’s shoulders and shook the elf with familiarity.
“We must take cover, quickly!” Sylora instructed her charges, and they were not unprepared. “The beast, our beast, has roared!”
All around Dahlia, Ashmadai rushed to and fro, gathering their belongings and running for the cave they had chosen as their shelter. Dor’crae and Valindra were already in there, shielded from the stinging daylight.
Dahlia didn’t move. She couldn’t move, frozen in awe, in horror, at the spectacle of the freed primordial, of the exploding volcano.
What had she done?
Drizzt watched the lower peak of the mountain as it seemed to simply come apart and leap skyward. He thought of a long-ago day on a beach outside of Waterdeep, a hot summer day. He and Catti-brie had been serving with Deudermont aboard Sea Sprite, and had put into port for supplies and respite. The couple had wandered down to the shore to spend a quiet afternoon.
He thought of that peaceful time in that most terrifying of moments, for he had played a game that day, burying Catti-brie’s legs under the wet beach sand.
Watching the mountain break apart reminded him of when Catti-brie had lifted her sand-covered legs. The stones in the distance seemed to come apart like beach sand, but revealing lines of angry red lava instead of the smooth flesh of Catti-brie’s calf.
Strangely silent for many heartbeats, the lifting mountain expanded and stretched, twisting and blending with the heavy cloud into a weird shape, like the neck and head of a bird.
Only then did Drizzt realize that the silence was only because the shockwave, the devastating wall of sound, hadn’t yet reached him. He saw trees in the far distance falling over toward him, falling over away from the mountain.
Then the ground beneath his feet lurched and rolled, and the sound of a hundred roaring dragons had him falling aside and covering his ears. He caught one last glimpse of the volcano as the mountain stone tumbled down, a wall of stone and ash many times taller than the tallest tree, running madly for the ocean, burying and burning everything in its path.
“By the gods,” Herzgo Alegni whispered.
The mountain leaped, tumbled, and had begun to roll at tremendous speed, devouring everything in its path.
And its path led directly for Neverwinter.
“The end of the world,” Barrabus the Gray whispered, and those words from that man, so out of place, so hyperbolic and yet so … inadequate, spoke volumes to them both.
“I go,” Alegni announced just moments later. He looked at Barrabus and shrugged. “Farewell.”
And Herzgo Alegni stepped into the Shadow Fringe, leaving Barrabus alone on the bridge.
Alone, but not for long, for the folk of Neverwinter saw their doom then and took to the streets, running and screaming, crying and calling for loved ones.
Barrabus watched people rush into buildings, but one look at the coming avalanche of fiery