R.A. Salvatore - The Icewind Dale Trilogy - 3 - The Halfling's Gem

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"He left this," Pellman continued, handing the tiny pouch to Wulfgar." And bade me to tell

you that he will await your arrival in Calimport."

Wulfgar held the pouch tentatively, as if expecting it to explode in his face.

"Our thanks," Drizzt told Pellman. "We will tell our associate that you performed the task

admirably."

Pellman nodded and bowed, turning away as he did so, to return to his duties.

Drizzt led Wulfgar off to the side, out of plain view. Seeing the barbarian's paling look, he

took the tiny pouch and gingerly loosened the draw string, holding it as far away as possible.

With a shrug to Wulfgar, who had moved a cautious step away, Drizzt brought the pouch

down to his belt level and peeked in.

Wulfgar moved closer, curious and concerned when he saw Drizzt's shoulders droop. The

drow looked to him in helpless resignation and inverted the pouch, revealing its contents.
    A halfling's finger.
 
THE ICEWIND DALE TRILOGY
Book One: The Crystal Shard
Book Two: Streams of Silver
Book Three: The Halfling's Gem
 
To my sister Susan,
who'll never know how
much her support has meant
to me over the last few years.
 
Prelude
Maps
Book 1: Halfway to Everywhere
Chapter 1   Tower of Twilight
Chapter 2   A Thousand Thousand Little Candles
Chapter 3   Conyberry's Pride
Chapter 4   The City of Splendors
Chapter 5   Ashes
Chapter 6   Baldur's Gate
Epilogue
Book 2: Allies
Chapter 7   Stirrings
Chapter 8   A Plain Brown Wrapper
Chapter 9   Fiery Riddles
Chapter 10   The Weight of a Kings Mantle
Chapter 11   Hot Winds
Chapter 12   Comrades
Chapter 13   Paying the Piper
Chapter 14   Dancing Snakes
Chapter 15   The Guide
Epilogue
Book 3: Desert Empires
Chapter 16   Never a Fouler Place
Chapter 17   Impossible Loyalties

Chapter 18   Double Talker
Chapter 19   Tricks and Traps
Chapter 20   Black and White
Chapter 21   Where No Sun Shines
Chapter 22   The Rift
Chapter 23   If Ever You Loved Catti-brie
Chapter 24   Interplanar Goo
Chapter 25   A Walk in the Sun
Epilogue
 
 
Prelude
    The wizard looked down upon the young woman with uncertainty. Her back was to him;
he could see the thick mane of her auburn locks flowing around her shoulders, rich and
vibrant. But the wizard knew, too, the sadness that was in her eyes. So young she was, barely

more than a child, and so beautifully innocent.

Yet this beautiful child had put a sword through the heart of his beloved Sydney.

Harkle Harpell brushed away the unwanted memories of his dead love and started down

the hill. "A fine day," he said cheerily when he reached the young woman.

"Do ye think they've made the tower?" Catti-brie asked him, her gaze never leaving the

southern horizon.

Harkle shrugged. "Soon, if not yet." He studied Catti-brie and could find no anger against

her for her actions. She had killed Sydney, it was true, but Harkle knew just by looking at her

that necessity, not malice, had guided her sword arm. And now he could only pity her.

"How are you?" Harkle stammered, amazed at the courage she had shown in light of the

terrible events that had befallen her and her friends.

Catti-brie nodded and turned to the wizard. Surely there was sorrow edging her deep blue

eyes, but mostly they burned with a stubborn resolve that chased away any hints of

weakness. She had lost Bruenor, the dwarf who had adopted her and had reared her as his

own since the earliest days of her childhood. And Catti-brie's other friends even now were

caught in the middle of a desperate chase with an assassin across the southland.

"How quickly things have changed," Harkle whispered under his breath, feeling sympathy

for the young woman. He remembered a time, just a few weeks earlier, when Bruenor

Battlehammer and his small company had come through Longsaddle in their quest to find

Mithril Hall, the dwarf's lost homeland. That had been a jovial meeting of tales exchanged

and promises of future friendships with the Harpell clan. None of them could have known

that a second party, led by an evil assassin, and by Harkle's own Sydney, held Catti-brie

hostage and was gathering to pursue the company. Bruenor had found Mithril Hall, and had

fallen there.

And Sydney, the female mage that Harkle had so dearly loved, had played a part in the

dwarf's death.

Harkle took a deep breath to steady himself. "Bruenor will be avenged," he said with a

grimace.

Catti-brie kissed him on the cheek and started back up the hill toward the Ivy Mansion.

She understood the wizard's sincere pain, and she truly admired his decision to help her

fulfill her vow to return to Mithril Hall and reclaim it for Clan Battlehammer.

But for Harkle, there had been no other choice. The Sydney that he had loved was a

facade, a sugar coating to a power-crazed, unfeeling monster. And he himself had played a

part in the disaster, unwittingly revealing to Sydney the whereabouts of Bruenor's party.

Harkle watched Catti-brie go, the weight of troubles slowing her stride. He could harbor

no resentment toward her - Sydney had brought about the circumstances of her own death,

and Catti-brie had no choice but to play them out. The wizard turned his gaze southward. He,

too, wondered and worried for the drow elf and the huge barbarian lad. They had slumped

back into Longsaddle just three days before, a sorrow-filled and weary band in desperate

need of rest.

There could be no rest, though, not now, for the wicked assassin had escaped with the last

of their group, Regis the halfling, in tow.

So much had happened in those few weeks; Harkle's entire world had been turned upside

down by an odd mixture of heroes from a distant, forlorn land called Icewind Dale, and by a

beautiful young woman who could not be blamed.

And by the lie that was his deepest love.

Harkle fell back on the grass and watched the puffy clouds of late summer meander across

the sky.

* * *

Beyond the clouds, where the stars shone eternally, Guenhwyvar, the entity of the panther,

paced excitedly. Many days had passed since the cat's master, the drow elf named Drizzt

Do'Urden, had summoned it to the material plane. Guenhwyvar was sensitive to the onyx

figurine that served as a link to its master and that other world; the panther could sense the

tingle from that far-off place even when its master merely touched the statuette.

But Guenhwyvar hadn't felt that link to Drizzt in some time, and the cat was nervous now,

somehow understanding in its otherworldly intelligence that the drow no longer possessed

the figurine. Guenhwyvar remembered the time before Drizzt, when another drow, an evil

drow, had been its master. Though in essence an animal, Guenhwyvar possessed dignity, a

quality that its original master had stolen away.

Guenhwyvar remembered those times when it had been forced to perform cruel, cowardly

acts against helpless foes for the sake of its master's pleasure.

But things had been very different since Drizzt Do'Urden came to possess the figurine.

Here was a being of conscience and integrity, and an honest bond of love had developed

between Guenhwyvar and Drizzt.

The cat slumped against a star-trimmed tree and issued a low growl that observers to this

astral spectacle might have taken as a resigned sigh.

Deeper still would the cat's sigh have been if it knew that Artemis Entreri, the killer, now

possessed the figurine.

Book 1:

Halfway to Everywhere

Tower of Twilight

"A day and more we have lost," the barbarian grumbled, reining in his horse and looking

back over his shoulder. The lower rim of the sun had just dipped below the horizon. "The

assassin moves away from us even now!"

"We do well to trust in Harkle's advice," replied Drizzt Do'Urden, the dark elf. "He would

not have led us astray." With the sunshine fading, Drizzt dropped the cowl of his black cloak

back onto his shoulders and shook free the locks of his stark white hair.

Wulfgar pointed to some tall pines. "That must be the grove Harkle Harpell spoke of," he

said, "yet I see no tower, nor signs that any structure was ever built in this forsaken area."

His lavender eyes more at home in the deepening gloom, Drizzt peered ahead intently,

trying to find some evidence to dispute his young friend. Surely this was the place that

Harkle had indicated, for a short distance ahead of them lay the small pond, and beyond that

the thick boughs of Neverwinter Wood. "Take heart," he reminded Wulfgar. "The wizard

called patience the greatest aid in finding the home of Malchor. We have been here but an

hour."

"The road grows ever longer," the barbarian mumbled, unaware that the drow's keen ears

did not miss a word. There was merit in Wulfgar's complaints, Drizzt knew, for the tale of a

farmer in Longsaddle - that of a dark, cloaked man and a halfling on a single horse - put the

assassin fully ten days ahead of them, and moving swiftly.

But Drizzt had faced Entreri before and understood the enormity of the challenge before

him. He wanted as much assistance as he could get in rescuing Regis from the deadly man's

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"Heleftthis,"Pellmancontinued,handingthetinypouchtoWulfgar\."AndbademetotellyouthathewillawaityourarrivalinCalimport."Wulfgarheldthepouchtentatively,asifexpectingittoexplodein\hisface."Ourthanks,"DrizzttoldPellman."Wewilltellourassociatethat\youperformedthetaskadmirably."Pellmannoddedandbowed,turnin...

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R.A. Salvatore - The Icewind Dale Trilogy - 3 - The Halfling's Gem

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