The Spine of the World - By R. A. Salvatore Page 0,42

boots clunking against the wood.

"Ere, what're you about?" one old woman asked him.

"The Leaping Lady?" Wulfgar asked. "Where is it?"

"That Kree's boat?" the woman asked, more to herself than to Wulfgar. "Oh, she's out. Out and running, not to doubt, fearing that one." As she finished, she pointed to the dark silhouette of a sleek vessel tied on the other side of the long wharf.

Wulfgar, curious, moved closer, noting the three sails, the last one triangular, a design he had never seen before. When he crossed the boardwalk, he remembered the tales Drizzt and Catti-brie had told to him, and he understood. Sea Sprite.

Wulfgar stood up very straight, the name sobering him from his jumbled thoughts. His eyes trailed up the planking, from the name to the deck rail, and there stood a sailor, staring back at him.

"Wulfgar," Waillan Micanty hailed. "Well met!"

The barbarian turned on his heel and stomped away.

*****

"Perhaps he was reaching out to us," Captain Deudermont reasoned.

"It seems more likely that he was merely lost," a skeptical Robillard replied. "By Micanty's description, the barbarian's reaction upon seeing Sea Sprite seemed more one of surprise."

"We can't be certain." Deudermont insisted, starting for the cabin door.

"We don't have to be certain," Robillard retorted, and he grabbed the captain by the arm to stop him. Deudermont did stop and turned to glare at the wizard's hand, then into the man's unyielding eyes.

"He is not your child," Robillard reminded the captain. "He's barely an acquaintance, and you bear him no responsibility."

"Drizzt and Catti-brie are my friends," Deudermont replied. "They're our friends, and Wulfgar is their friend. Are we to ignore that fact simply for convenience?"

The frustrated wizard let go of the captain's arm. "For safety, Captain," he corrected, "not convenience."

"I will go to him."

"You already tried and were summarily rejected," the wizard bluntly reminded him.

"Yet he came to us last night, perhaps rethinking that rejection."

"Or lost on the docks."

Deudermont nodded, conceding the possibility. "We'll never know if I don't return to Wulfgar and ask," he reasoned, and started for the door.

"Send another," Robillard said suddenly, the thought just popping into his mind. "Send Mister Micanty, perhaps. Or I shall go."

"Wulfgar knows neither you nor Micanty."

"Certainly there are crewmen aboard who were with Wulfgar on that voyage long ago," the stubborn wizard persisted. "Men who know him."

Deudermont shook his head, his jaw set determinedly. "There is but one man aboard Sea Sprite who can reach out to Wulfgar," he said. "I'll go back to him, then again, if necessary, before we put out to sea."

Robillard started to respond but finally recognized the futility of it all and threw up his hands in defeat. "The streets of Luskan's dockside are no haven for your friends, Captain," he reminded. "Beware that every shadow might hold danger."

"I always am and always have been," Deudermont said with a grin, a grin that widened as Robillard walked up to him and put several enchantments upon him, spells to stop blows or defeat missiles, and even one to diffuse certain magical attacks.

"Take care of the duration," the wizard warned.

Deudermont nodded, thankful for his friend's precautions, then turned back to the door.

Robillard slumped into a chair as soon as the man had gone. He considered his crystal ball and the energy it would take for him to operate it. "Unnecessary work," he said with an exasperated sigh. "For the captain and for me. A useless effort for an undeserving gutter rat."

It was going to be a long night.

*****

"And do you need it so badly?" Morik dared to ask. Given Wulfgar's foul mood, he knew that he was indeed taking a great risk in even posing the question.

Wulfgar didn't bother to answer the absurd question, but the look he gave Morik told the little thief well enough. "It must be a wondrous weapon, then," Morik said, abruptly shifting the subject to excuse his obviously sacrilegious thinking. Of course Morik had known all along how magnificent a weapon Aegis-fang truly was, how perfect the craftsmanship and how well it fit Wulfgar's strong hands. In the pragmatic thief's mind, even that didn't justify an excursion onto the open sea in pursuit of Sheela Kree's cutthroat band.

Perhaps the emotions went deeper, Morik wondered. Perhaps Wulfgar held a sentimental attachment to the warhammer. His adoptive father had crafted it for him, after all. Perhaps Aegis-fang was the one remaining piece of his former life, the one reminder of who he had been. It was a question Morik didn't dare ask aloud, for even if