“Oh, but ain’t we a couple o’ sly and clever dark elves, me and me friend Jarlaxle?” Catti-brie went on, imitating Drizzt’s posture and striking a most unflattering pose. “Just walking into Menzoberranzan so casual and easy that they’ll think we belong and won’t be cutting our heads off. Bah! But if I e’er heared a more stupid plan, then I’m not for rememberin’ it!”
“I remember one time when you walked into Menzoberranzan alone,” Drizzt said, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could have taken them back. On that dark occasion, she had done so only because of his own foolishness.
Catti-brie slugged him in the shoulder. “Ye’re a damned fool,” she said, her voice suddenly more resonant with fear and sorrow than with anger.
“Ye canno’ go,” she decided, and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Did you not just float into the pit of a primordial beast of fire?”
“Not the same thing.”
“No, worse!”
“Not so!”
“Of course it is so!” Drizzt argued. “For all your tricks and magic, and that ring I gave you, you cannot know the heart of the primordial! And for all your wards, for all your power, we both know that the beast could have incinerated you”-he paused and tried to assume a more understanding and sympathetic posture, but still indignantly snapped his fingers in the air-“like that!” he said. “And you would have been no more than a charred pile of bones to be swallowed by the magma. I would not even have known, nor would Bruenor nor anyone else, unless Jarlaxle chose to share the information-and would he have admitted it to us, had he caused your fiery death?”
“Ye just said ye trusted him.”
Drizzt couldn’t hold his stern expression in light of the way Catti-brie had made the off-hand remark. Despite it all he giggled just a bit, and so did Catti-brie, and she threw her arms around him and wrapped him in a hug.
“I’m just scared,” she whispered in his ear.
“I know,” he said with a growl. Then, “I know,” in a more conciliatory and understanding tone. “How do you think I feel knowing that you’ll be working beside the mighty and merciless Archmage of Menzoberranzan, trying to reignite some ancient magic that is …” He sighed and buried his face in her hair.
“But I’m trustin’ ye,” Catti-brie said.
Drizzt pushed her out to arms’ length, locked her rich blue eyes with his lavender ones, and slowly nodded his understanding and acceptance.
“I’m not wantin’ to go through this life without ye,” the woman said.
“I have already seen life without you,” Drizzt replied. “It is not something I wish to experience again.”
Catti-brie hugged him tighter. “Do ye think ye can save her? Dahlia?”
“I don’t know,” Drizzt admitted. “She is in the spidery claws of Matron Mother Baenre.”
“So were you once,” Catti-brie said, and Drizzt squeezed her a bit tighter.
“I have to try,” Drizzt said. “I … we owe this to Jarlaxle, and I owe it to Entreri.”
“I’m not thinking ye’re owing anything to that one. Ye spared him his life on more than one occasion, and that’s better than he’s deserving.”
Drizzt really had no retort, even though he disagreed. So complicated was his relationship with the former assassin! And indeed, despite everything that had occurred, both ways, he did feel that he owed it to Entreri to make this try, desperate as it seemed.
“And are ye thinking ye owe it to Dahlia?” Catti-brie asked.
Drizzt pulled back and shrugged. “She does not deserve this fate.”
“Ah, me husband, righting all the wrongs o’ the world.”
Drizzt shrugged again, searching for an answer.
“And that is why I love you,” Catti-brie said slowly and clearly, and she came forward again and gave Drizzt a deep and long kiss. “You go free her, and bring her home, and if there is anything I can do to help heal her broken mind, you’ll need not even to ask.”
Drizzt felt as if his heart would explode at that moment. He pulled Catti-brie tight, so tight. He wanted to join with her then, as if he could somehow merge their souls into one brighter being, and he held her for a long, long while.
He stepped back after a few moments, recalling another issue, and an important one. “Here,” he said, pulling the magical necklace with the unicorn head and golden horn over his head and handing it to her. “I’ll have no need of Andahar in the Underdark, and not in Menzoberranzan, where the brilliant essence of a unicorn would surely announce my arrival.”
Catti-brie took the gift and nodded. She slipped it over her head, her hand touching the beautiful sculpture hanging upon her chest.
“And here,” Drizzt added, reaching into his pouch to bring forth the onyx figurine of the panther Guenhwyvar.
Catti-brie’s eyes widened in shock. “I’m thinkin’ ye’ll be needin’ that one!” she argued, holding forth her palm in denial of the gift.
“I’ve thought long on this,” Drizzt assured her. “I am not bringing Guenhwyvar back to Menzoberranzan. She was created in Myth Drannor, so says the tale, but she was long in the city of drow. Many know of her and many coveted her, including the family of those from whom I took her. I cannot risk it.”
Catti-brie started to protest, but Drizzt put his finger over her lips to silence her.
“If I am to die, then so be it,” he said. “This is the life I have chosen and the code of behavior that I must follow. I can accept that. But I cannot accept Guenhwyvar in the hands of a dark elf. I cannot reduce my dear companion to an existence as a tool of murder and chaos. She deserves better. If I am to die, then she deserves nothing less than you.”
“I’m thinkin’ ye’re more likely to die without her at yer side!”
Drizzt didn’t disagree, but neither did he retract his hand. “I am with fine allies. Worthy fighters, both, and Jarlaxle with a million tricks I have not yet witnessed. If we are captured, he may be able to somehow buy us out of our dilemma, but never would we be allowed to take the precious Guenhwyvar with us.”
He motioned the figurine toward her.
“I cannot.”
“You must. I go with a heavy heart, but I accept that because I must do this. And because I know that if I am to perish in the City of Spiders, then so be it, because I say with all hope and faith that my friends are safe and thriving without me, that Bruenor will sit on his throne and you will secure that seat. That Wulfgar and Regis have found adventure and enjoyment in the distant land of Delthuntle, and that Guenhwyvar … Aye, there’s the rub. I cannot accept that my grand risk might condemn her to such an existence.” He pushed the figurine at Catti-brie again and nodded more than once until she at last took it from him.
“Keep her safe,” he said.
“If I have to come get you, then know that Guenhwyvar will be by my side,” Catti-brie said, a clear reference to the last time Drizzt had walked into Menzoberranzan.
“With ten thousand dwarves around you, I hope.”
“Aye,” she replied with a grin.
He offered her his hand and started away, but Catti-brie tugged back hard, halting him.
“One more thing,” she said when Drizzt turned back to regard her curiously.
She paused and he shrugged, confused.
“Taulmaril,” she said.
Drizzt looked at her curiously.
She held up her free hand and beckoned with it. “The bow. It is a hindrance to you as you flee about the tunnels. It was mine. I took it in Mithral Hall and so Bruenor, and so you all, gave it to me then. I would like it now.”
Drizzt stared at her incredulously, but she just smiled calmly and beckoned again.
Drizzt let go of her hand and stepped back. “The bow … has been of great help to me … in the tunnels,” he stammered.
“And I will have it,” Catti-brie demanded. She motioned to the bow with her hand again. “You said you were with fine allies.”
“And better to keep enemies at bay,” Drizzt argued.