clutches of the monstrous yochlol. She had tried to help, but had failed and, in the end, all that remained was a pile of rubble and Aegis fang.
In the weeks since, Catti-brie had teetered on the edge of con trol, trying futilely to deny the paralyzing grief. She had cried often, but always had managed to check it after the first few sobs with a deep breath and sheer willpower. The only one she could talk to had been Drizzt.
Now Drizzt was gone, and now, too, Catti-brie did cry, a flood of tears, sobs wracking her deceptively delicate frame. She wanted Wulfgar back! She protested to whatever gods might be listening that he was too young to be taken from her, with too many great deeds ahead of him.
Her sobs became intense growls, fierce denial. Pillows flew across the room, and Catti-brie grabbed the blankets into a pile and heaved them as well. Then she overturned her bed just for the plea sure of hearing its wooden frame crack against the hard floor.
"No!" The word came from deep inside, from the young fighter's belly. The loss of Wulfgar wasn't fair, but there was nothing Catti-brie could do about that.
Drizzt's leaving wasn't fair, not in Catti-brie's wounded mind, but there was nothing...
The thought hung in Catti-brie's mind. Still trembling, but now under control, she stood beside the overturned bed. She understood why the drow had left secretly, why Drizzt had, as was typical, taken the whole burden on himself.
"No, " the young woman said again. She stripped off her night clothes, grabbed a blanket to towel the sweat from her, then donned breeches and chemise. Catti-brie did not hesitate to consider her actions, fearful that if she thought about things rationally, she might change her mind. She quickly slipped on a chain link coat of supple and thin mithril armor, so finely crafted by the dwarves that it was barely detectable after she had donned her sleeveless tunic.
Still moving frantically, Catti-brie pulled on her boots, grabbed her cloak and leather gloves, and rushed across the room to her closet. There she found her sword belt, quiver, and Taulmaril the Heartseeker, her enchanted bow. She ran, didn't walk, from her room to the halfling's and banged on the door only once before bursting in.
Regis was in bed again, big surprise, his belly full from a breakfast that had continued uninterrupted right into lunch. He was awake, though, and none too happy to see Catti-brie charging at him once more.
She pulled him up to a sitting position, and he regarded her curiously. Lines from tears streaked her cheeks, and her splendid blue eyes were edged by angry red veins. Regis had lived most of his life as a thief, had survived by understanding people, and it wasn't hard for him to figure out the reasons behind the young woman's sudden fire.
"Where did ye put the panther?" Catti-brie demanded.
Regis stared at her for a long moment. Catti-brie gave him a rough shake.
"Tell me quick, " she demanded. "I've lost too much time already."
"For what?" Regis asked, though he knew the answer.
"Just give me the cat, " Catti-brie said. Regis unconsciously glanced toward his bureau, and Catti-brie rushed to it, then tore it open and laid waste to the drawers, one by one.
"Drizzt won't like this, " Regis said calmly.
"To the Nine Hells with him, then!" Catti-brie shot back. She found the figurine and held it before her eyes, marveling at its beau tiful form.
"You think Guenhwyvar will lead you to him, " Regis stated more than asked.
Catti-brie dropped the figurine into a belt pouch and did not bother to reply.
"Suppose you do catch up with him, " Regis went on as the young woman headed for the door. "How much will you aid Drizzt in a city of drow? A human woman might stand out a bit down there, don't you think?"
The halfling's sarcasm stopped Catti-brie, made her consider for the first time what she meant to do. How true was Regis's reason ing! How could she get into Menzoberranzan? And even if she did, how could she even see the floor ahead of her?
"No!" Catti-brie shouted at length, her logic blown away by that welling, helpless feeling. "I'm going to him anyway. I'll not stand by and wait to learn that another of me friends has been killed!"
"Trust him, " Regis pleaded, and, for the first time, the halfling began to think