are coming fast!" Waillan cried happily, thinking his friend would make it.
"But they lost the chest!" Robillard observed, pointing to the floundering rowboat. Right behind the wreckage and coming faster still was the third pirate ship, her sails now full of wind.
"I will get it!" cried Harkle Harpell, wanting desperately to be of some use. The wizard snapped his fingers and began an enchantment, as did Robillard, realizing that they had to somehow slow the pursuing caravel if Drizzt was to have any chance of making it to the Sea Sprite.
Robillard stopped his casting almost immediately, though, and looked to Harkle curiously.
Robillard's eyes widened considerably as he considered a fish that appeared suddenly on the deck at Harkle's feet. "No!" he cried, reaching for the Harpell, figuring out what type of spell Harkle had enacted. "You cannot cast an extra dimension on an item enchanted with an extra dimension!"
Robillard had guessed correctly; Harkle was trying to pull in the sinking magical chest by creating an extra-dimensional gate in the region where the rowboat and the chest went down. It was a good idea, or would have been, except that the chest Tarnheel had promised to the Sea Sprite was a chest of holding-a contained extra-dimensional space that could hold much more volume than would be indicated by the item's size and weight. The problem was that extra-dimensional spells and items did not usually mesh correctly. Throwing a bag of holding into a chest of holding, for example, could tear a rift in the multiverse, spewing everything nearby into the Astral Plane, or even worse, into the unknown space between the planes of existence.
"Oops," Harkle apologized, realizing his error and trying to let go of his enchantment.
Too late. A huge wave erupted right in the area where the row-boat had gone down, rocking the approaching caravel and rolling into Drizzt and Dunkin, hurling them toward the Sea Sprite. The water churned and danced, then began to roll, forming a giant whirlpool.
"Sail on!" Deudermont cried as ropes were thrown out to Drizzt and Dunkin. "Sail on, for all our lives!"
The sails fell open, and crewmen immediately pulled to put them against the wind. At once the Sea Sprite lurched and rolled away, gliding swiftly out of the harbor.
Things were not as easy for the pursuing caravel. The pirate ship tried to tack and turn, but was too close to the mounting whirlpool. She crested the lip and was pulled sideways violently, many of her crew being tossed overboard into the turmoil. Around she went, once and then twice. Those aboard the Sea Sprite watched her sails diminish as she sank lower and lower into the spin.
But other than horrified Harkle, the eyes of those on the Sea Sprite had to go outward, to the two vessels lying in wait. Robillard called up a mist, understanding that Deudermont's intent was not to engage, but to slip by, out into the open waters. Waillan's crew fired at will, as did the archers, while several crewmen, Deudermont among them, hauled Drizzt and a very shaken Dunkin Tallmast aboard.
"Sealed," Drizzt said to Deudermont with a wry smile, producing a capped scroll tube that obviously contained the map to Caerwich.
Deudermont clapped him on the shoulder and turned to go to the wheel. Both surveyed the situation, and both figured that the Sea Sprite would have little trouble slipping through this trap.
The situation looked bright, to those looking forward. But hanging over the stern rail, Harkle Harpell could only watch in dismay. Rationally, he knew that his unintentional catastrophe had probably saved Drizzt and the other man in the rowboat, and probably would make the Sea Sprite's run all the easier, but the gentle Harkle could not suffer the sights of the turmoil within the whirlpool and the screams of the drowning men. He muttered, "oh, no," over and over, searched his mind for some spell that might help the poor men of the caravel.
But then, almost as suddenly as it had appeared, the whirlpool dissipated, the water flattening to perfect, glassy calm. The caravel remained, hanging so low to the side that her sails nearly touched the water.
Harkle breathed a deep sigh of relief and thanked whatever gods might be listening. The water was full of sailors, but they all seemed close enough to get to the swamped hull.
Harkle clapped his hands happily and ran down from the poop deck, joining Deudermont and Drizzt by the wheel. The engagement was on in full by then, with the