A confused Catti-brie dismissed the thought forcefully, rejected it and silently berated herself.
She meant to turn and scowl at Gromph then, just to reassure herself, but was distracted when, all around the principal wizards, a thousand dwarves halted their work, the whole area going suddenly quiet. Catti-brie looked on curiously, her gaze going from one group of dwarves to the next, when she realized that they were all looking in the same direction: out to sea, to the southwest.
The woman turned back slowly, noting the other wizards and sages around her, jaws inevitably dropping open, and the dragon sisters smiling.
She was not surprised, then, but surely amazed, when she again gazed out to sea, then high above the surface to the gray and black outlines of the heavy cloud cover, and to one cloud in particular that she soon realized was much more than a cloud.
Its bulging front took firmer shape: the curving wall of a huge tower.
It seemed of like substance to the other clouds-perhaps it was-but it revealed more definite shape than its fellows as it drifted out of the bank: towering, running walls of gray, the rest of the giant floating castle.
As if that wasn’t enough to transfix the gathering and all of those looking on from the mainland of Luskan as well, a sudden noise to the side startled most, including Catti-brie.
Gasps of surprise turned to coos of appreciation of the image in front of them as a pair of copper-colored dragons flew up for the immense castle of clouds floating in the air. That giant structure settled into place just offshore, and the dragon sisters flew up over the wall and disappeared from view for few moments. They reappeared, coming back for the gathering, bearing between them a giant litter, a giant throne, with a huge, blue-skinned woman seated upon it. She held a bejeweled scepter across her bosom and a crown of glittering gold and rubies was set upon her head, pinning back her thick and flowing white mane.
The dragons set her down in front of the gathering. The wizards held their ground, but many of the dwarves fell back into more defensible positions.
The cloud giant rose and slowly advanced, Ilnezhara and Tazmikella becoming human women once more and flanking her advance. She moved directly up to Catti-brie and gave a respectful bow-one which, even if she had bent fully perpendicular at the waist would have still left her head high above the human. Though she was similarly proportioned, the giant queen stood thrice Catti-brie’s height, at least.
“I am Caecilia,” she said in a loud voice, but with a quality that still gave it some delicacy. “My friends Ilnezhara and Tazmikella here thought that I might be of service to you, and in an endeavor that they knew I would find most wondrous.”
“We welcome any who would aid in our most important quest,” Catti-brie said, trying to sound calm, but surely overwhelmed. She remembered then to reciprocate the bow, albeit she did so with far less grace than Caecilia had managed.
“With your blessing then,” Caecilia replied. She turned back to the distant castle, lifted her hand, and shot forth a bolt of brilliant white light.
“I will require a large tent and a large bed, of course,” she said. “I trust that you will see to my proper accommodations.”
“Of course, Lady,” Catti-brie replied, and that last word left her mouth awkwardly. Was she to call this giant “Lady,” after all? What rules of etiquette might apply to a giantess?
Up above the bay, the giant castle began to recede, floating back into the thick overcast to blend to practical invisibility. Many lifted faces continued to stare up that way, unsure if the massive structure was gone or simply hiding in the clouds.
Only gradually did the dwarves and others go back to their work, with Caecilia going off with the dragon sisters to be brought up to date on the efforts. Catti-brie took a deep and steadying breath, reminding herself that these amazing sights and guests were all for the good. Her focus had to be on the Hosttower. If it could not be rebuilt, then Gauntlgrym would fall to utter ruin.
She turned away from the cloud bank, shaking her head, steeling her resolve.
And then she saw Gromph, sitting on his throne, staring at her, amused, or perhaps bemused.
The fantasy of the archmage bent over her, kissing her, touching her, returned suddenly-so quickly, unexpectedly, and powerfully that Catti-brie staggered for a step and nearly stumbled.
Gromph was smiling.
CHAPTER 12
Jarlaxle examined Entreri, then nodded approvingly at the disguise. “If you slip into the common tongue of the surface, do not grow anxious,” he instructed both his companions. “You are of Bregan D’aerthe. As far as any we will see knows, it has been years since you have been down here in Araunilcaurak.”
“What?” Entreri asked.
“Araunilcaurak,” Drizzt answered before Jarlaxle could. “The Great Pillar Cavern that Houses Menzoberranzan.” Jarlaxle and Entreri continued talking, but Drizzt receded as soon as the words had left his mouth. That word, Araunilcaurak, echoed in his thoughts. It was a word he hadn’t heard since childhood.
He thought back to the day he’d cast Menzoberranzan behind him, Guenhwyvar beside him, to venture into the wilds of the Underdark. It occurred to him at that moment, for the first time in more than a century, the first time since he’d ventured to the surface, that perhaps his decision on that long-ago day had not been so wise. He could have remained in the city, could have lived as Zaknafein had lived. Perhaps his family would still be alive in that event, instead of this abomination that had been created of House Do’Urden for no better reason than to smear his name.
Perhaps his father would not have been killed.
And his poor sister, Vierna, too kind for the title of priestess of Lolth. Would she have been spared? Drizzt himself had killed her, after all.
Even his friends on the World Above would have been better off, he realized to his horror. He had known this before, after the drow had come to Mithral Hall, after Wulfgar had fallen into the grasp of a yochlol. On that occasion, Drizzt had returned to Menzoberranzan, to surrender himself rather than place his friends in worse jeopardy.
Catti-brie had come for him, and their subsequent escape-Artemis Entreri beside them-had shown Drizzt the error of his ways.
But he now realized his love for Catti-brie, his gratitude to her, had blinded him to the truth of it all.
“What is it?” he heard Jarlaxle ask, drawing him from his thoughts. He looked at his companion, and at Entreri, too, who was staring at him.
“For all these years, I have thought myself brave,” Drizzt admitted. “Now I see that I am a coward, after all.”
Jarlaxle and Entreri exchanged glances, curious and concerned, at that strange remark.
“He’s not looking forward to walking into Menzoberranzan any more than I am,” Entreri decided.
When Jarlaxle nodded and turned a sympathetic eye, Drizzt let it go. Let them believe what they needed to believe, but it was not as they had assumed. He was not afraid to enter the city of his birth. He was ashamed that he had deserted it in the first place.
“So let us be done with it, and quickly,” Entreri remarked.
Jarlaxle held up his hand, and fiddled with his pouch, producing a small gemstone ring. He tossed it back and reached in, bringing forth another ring. When this one, too, seemed wrong, he tossed it back and shoved his arm into the pouch up to his elbow-even though the pouch seemed far too small to hold even his hand.
This time he brought his hand forth with a pile of rings in his palm, and he sorted through them for a moment, then slid a gold band set with some light stone, perhaps a diamond, onto his finger. He paused a moment, placed his finger against his temple, and issued a command word.