"Who then?" Deudermont demanded, trying to sound stern though Drizzt's chuckles were both comforting and infectious.
"A friend," Drizzt replied, and he paused and looked up at Catti-brie. "Harkle Harpell of Longsaddle."
"Oh, no," Robillard groaned from behind them. Like every wizard in all the Realms, Robillard had heard the tales of Longsaddle and the eccentric Harpell family, the most unintentionally dangerous group of wizards ever to grace the multiverse.
As the moments passed and the fog cloud continued to dissipate, Deudermont and his crew relaxed. They had no idea of what had happened to the caravel until the cloud was nearly gone, for then they spotted the pirate ship, running fast, far, far away. Deudermont almost called for full sails, meaning to give chase once more, but he looked to the lowering sun, gauged the distance between his ship and his adversary, and decided that this one had gotten away.
The wizard, Harkle Harpell, was in clear sight now, just a dozen yards or so beyond the Sea Sprite's starboard bow. Deudermont gave the wheel over to a crewman and walked with Drizzt and Robillard to the closest point. Catti-brie came down the mainmast to join them.
Harkle stood impassively, chin in hand, staring at the spot where the caravel had been. He rolled with the swells, up high and down low, and continually tapped his foot upon the sea. It was a strange sight, for the water moved away from him, his water-walking enchantment preventing his foot from actually making any contact with the salty liquid.
Finally, Harkle looked back at the Sea Sprite, at Drizzt and the others. "Never thought of that," he admitted, shaking his head. "Aimed the fireball too low, I suppose."
"Wonderful," Robillard muttered.
"Are you coming aboard?" Deudermont asked the man, and the question, or the sudden realization that he was not aboard any ship, seemed to break Harkle from his trance.
"Ah, yes!" he said. "Actually a good idea. Glad I am that I found you." He pointed down at his feet. "I do not know how much longer my spell-"
As he spoke the words, the spell apparently expired, for under he went, plop, into the sea.
"Big surprise," remarked Catti-brie, moving to the rail to join the others.
Deudermont called for poles to fish the wizard out, then looked to his friends in disbelief. "He came out on the high seas with such a tentative enchantment?" the captain asked incredulously. "He might never have found us, or any other friendly ship, and then …"
"He is a Harpell," Robillard answered as though that should explain everything.
"Harkle Harpell," Catti-brie added, her sarcastic tone accentuating the wizard's point.
Deudermont just shook his head, taking some comfort in the fact that Drizzt, standing beside him, was obviously enjoying all of this.
Chapter 5 A PASSING THOUGHT
Wrapped in a blanket, his robes hanging on the mast high above him to dry in the wind, the waterlogged wizard sneezed repeatedly, spraying those around him. He simply couldn't contain himself and got Deudermont right in the face when the captain came up for an introduction.
"I give to you one Harkle Harpell of Longsaddle," Drizzt said to Deudermont. Harkle extended his hand, and the blanket fell away from him. The skinny wizard scrambled to retrieve it, but was too late.
"Get this one a meal," Catti-brie snickered from behind. "Suren he could use a bit o'meat on that bum."
Harkle blushed a deep red. Robillard, who had already met the Harpell, just walked away, shaking his head and suspecting that exciting times were yet to come.
"What brings you here," Deudermont asked, "so far from shore, on the open seas?"
Harkle looked to Drizzt. "I came on invitation," he said at length, seeming somewhat perturbed when the drow made no move to answer for him.
Drizzt eyed him curiously.
"I did!" protested the wizard. "On your word." He spun about to regard Catti-brie. "And yours!"
Catti-brie looked to Drizzt, who shrugged and held his hands out to the sides, having no idea of what Harkle might be talking about.
"Oh, well, well, well, a fine 'hello, I suppose," the exasperated wizard stammered. "But then, I expected it, though I hoped a drow elf would have a longer memory. What do you say to someone you meet again after a century? Couldn't remember his name, could you? Oh, no, no. That would be too much trouble."
"What are you talking about?" Drizzt had to ask. "I remember your name."
"And a good thing, too!" Harkle roared. "Or I would really be mad!" He snapped his fingers indignantly in the air, and the sound sobered him. He stood for a long moment, seeming thoroughly confused, as though he had forgotten what in the world he was talking about.
"Oh, yes," Harkle said at length and looked straight at Drizzt. The wizard's stern expression soon softened to one of curiosity.
"What are you talking about?" Drizzt asked again, trying to prompt Harkle.
"I do not know," the wizard admitted.
"You were telling me what brought you out here," Deudermont put in.
Harkle snapped his fingers again. "The spell, of course!" he said happily.
Deudermont sighed. "Obviously, it was a spell," the captain began slowly, trying to find a path that would garner some useful information from the rambling mage.
"Not 'a' spell," Harkle retorted. "The spell. My new spell, the fog of fate."
"The fog of fate?" Deudermont echoed.
"Oh, very good spell," Harkle began excitedly. "Expedites things, you know. Get on with your life and all that. Shows you where to go. Puts you there even, I think. But it doesn't tell you why." The wizard moved one hand up to tap at his chin, and his blanket slipped down again, but he didn't seem to notice. "I should work on that part. Yes, yes, then I would know why I was here."
"Ye're not even knowin'?" Catti-brie asked, and she faced the rail, even leaned over it somewhat, so she wouldn't have to look at Harkle's bony buttocks.
"Answering an invitation, I suppose," Harkle replied.
Catti-brie's expression was purely doubtful, as was Drizzt's.
"It's true!" Harkle protested vehemently. "Oh, so convenient of you to forget. Shouldn't say things you don't mean, I say! When you, both of you"-he looked from one to the other, waggling his finger-"passed through Longsaddle six years ago, you mentioned that you hoped our paths might cross once more. 'If ever you find yourself near to us. That is exactly what you said!"
"I do not-" Drizzt began, but Harkle waved him silent, then rushed to the oversized pack he had carried with him, which was drying on the deck. His blanket slipped down farther, but the wizard was too consumed by his task to notice. Catti-brie didn't bother to look away, she just snickered and shook her head.
Harkle pulled a small flask from his pack, retrieved his blanket for modesty's sake, and bounced back over to stand before Drizzt. Snapping his fingers defiantly in the air before the drow, the wizard popped off the cork.
From the flask came a voice, Catti-brie's own voice. "If you ever find yerself near to us," she said, "do look in."
"So there," Harkle said in superior tones as he plopped the cork back into place. He stood for a long moment, hands on hips, until Drizzt's smile became inviting. "And just where are we?" the wizard asked, turning to Deudermont.
The captain looked to the drow ranger, and Drizzt could offer only a shrug in reply. "Come, and I will show you," Deudermont said, leading the wizard toward his cabin. "And I will get you some proper clothes to wear until your robes have dried."
When the two were gone, Catti-brie, walked back over to her friend. Robillard stood not so far away, glaring at them both.
"Pray we find no more pirates to fight until we can be rid of our cargo," the wizard said.