The Sea Sprite drifted in a surreal stillness, no sound of water or wind, for many minutes. The fog was so thick about them that Drizzt had to hang very low over the rail to even see the water. He didn't dare reach out and touch that gray liquid, not knowing what Harkle's spell, if this was indeed Harkle's spell, might be doing.
At last they heard a splash, the lap of a wave against the prow of the ship. The fog began to thin almost immediately, but though they couldn't see their surroundings, everyone on board sensed that something had changed.
"The smell," Catti-brie remarked, and the heads of all those near her bobbed in agreement. Gone was the salty aroma, so thick that it left a taste in your mouth, replaced by a crisp summer scent, filled with trees, flowers, and the slick feel of an inlet swamp. The sounds, too, had changed, from the empty, endless
whistle of the wind and the muted splashes of deep water to the gentle lapping of lesser waves and the trilling of …
"Songbirds?" Drizzt asked.
The fog blew away, and all of the crew breathed a sigh of relief, for they were near to land! To the left loomed a small island, tree-covered, centered by a small castle and dotted with large mansions. A long bridge stretched in front of the Sea Sprite, reaching from the island to the shore, to the docks of a fair-sized, walled town. Behind the town, the ground sloped up into tall mountains, a landmark that no sailor could miss, but that Deudermont did not know. Many boats were about, though none much bigger than the rowboats the Sea Sprite carried astern. All the crews stood, staring blankly at the magnificent sailing ship.
"Not Waterdeep," Deudermont remarked. "Nor anywhere near to the city that I know of."
Drizzt surveyed the area, studying the coastline that curled back behind them. "Not the open sea," he replied.
"A lake," Catti-brie reasoned.
All three of them looked at each other for a moment, then yelled out, "Harkle!" in unison. The Harpell, expecting the call, scrambled out of the hatch and bounded right up beside them, his expression full of cheer.
"Where are we?" Deudermont demanded.
"Where the fates wanted us to be," the mage said mysteriously, waving his arms, the voluminous sleeves of his robe flying wide.
"I'm thinking ye'll have to do better than that," Catti-brie put in dryly.
Harkle shrugged and lowered his arms. "I do not know for sure, of course," he admitted. "The spell facilitates the move-not a random thing-but wherever that might be, I cannot tell."
"The spell?" Deudermont asked.
"The fog of fate," Drizzt answered before Harkle could. "The same spell that brought you to us."
Harkle nodded through the drow's every word, his smile wide, his expression one of pride and accomplishment.
"You put us in a lake!" Deudermont roared angrily.
Harkle stammered for a reply, but a call from the water cut the private conversation short. "Yo ho, Sea Sprite!"
The four went to the rail, Drizzt pulling the hood of his cloak over his head. He didn't know where they were, or what recep-
tion they might find, but he felt it likely that the greeting would be less warm if these sailors discovered that the Sea Sprite carried a drow elf.
A fair-sized fishing boat had pulled up alongside, its crew of six studying the schooner intently. "You've seen battle," an old graybeard, seeming to be the skipper of the fishing boat, reasoned.
"A storm," Deudermont corrected. "As fierce a blow as I've ever known."
The six fishermen exchanged doubting looks. They had been on the water every day for the last month and had seen no storms.
"Far from here," Deudermont tried to explain, recognizing the doubting expressions.
"How far can you get?" the old graybeard asked, looking about at the ever-present shoreline.
"Ye'd be surprised," Catti-brie answered, casting a sidelong glance at the blushing Harkle.
"Where did you put in?" the graybeard asked.
Deudermont held his hands out wide. "We are the Sea Sprite, out of Waterdeep."
The doubting expressions turned into open smirks. "Waterdeep?" the graybeard echoed.
"Are we in another world?" Catti-brie whispered to Drizzt, and the drow found it hard to honestly comfort her, especially with Harkle Harpell behind it all.
"Waterdeep," Deudermont said evenly, seriously, with as much conviction as he could muster.
"You're a long way from home, captain," another of the fishermen remarked. "A thousand miles."
"Fifteen hundred," the graybeard corrected.
"And all of it land," another added, laughing. "Have you wheels on the Sea Sprite?" That brought a chuckle from the six and from several other crews of boats moving close to investigate.
"And a team of horses I'd like to see," a man on another boat put in, drawing more laughter.
Even Deudermont managed a smile, relieved that he and his ship were apparently still in the Realms. "Wizard's work," he explained. "We sailed the Sea of Swords, five hundred miles southwest of the Moonshaes, when the storm found us and left us
drifting. Our wizard"-Deudermont looked over to Harkle— "cast some enchantment to get us into port."
"He missed," howled a man.
"But he got us off of the open sea," Deudermont said when the laughter died away. "Where we surely would have perished. Pray tell me, good sailors, where are we?"
"This is Impresk Lake," the graybeard replied, then pointed to shore, to the walled town. "Carradoon."
Deudermont didn't recognize the names.
"Those are the Snowflakes," the skipper continued, indicating the mountains.
"South," Catti-brie said suddenly. All eyes turned to her. "We are far south of Waterdeep," she said. "And if we sailed south from the lake, we'd get to the Deepwash, then to Vilhon Reach in the Inner Sea."
"You have the place," the graybeard announced. "But you'd not draw enough water to get that ship to Shalane Lake."
"And unless you've wings with those wheels, you won't be sailing over the Cloven Mountains!" the man beside the graybeard roared. But the laughter was subdued now, all the sailors, on the Sea Sprite and on the fishing boats, digesting the gravity of the situation.
Deudermont blew a long sigh and looked to Harkle, who cast his gaze to the deck. "We'll worry about where we are going later," Deudermont said. "For now, the task is to repair the Sea Sprite." He turned to the graybeard. "I fear that your lake hasn't enough draw," he said. "Is there a long wharf, where we might put in for repairs?"
The skipper pointed to Carradoon Island, and one long dock jutting out in the direction of the Sea Sprite.
"The draw is deeper on the northern side of the island," the man next to him remarked.
"But the long dock is privately owned," a third fisherman put in.
"We'll get permission to put her in," the graybeard said firmly.
"But the task is not so easy," Deudermont interjected. "We've not the sails, nor the steering to navigate. And I do not know these waters, obviously."
"Put out some lines, Captain …"
"Deudermont," the Sea Sprite's captain replied. "Captain Deudermont."
"My name's Terraducket," the graybeard said. "Well met." He signaled to all the other boats as he spoke, and already they were swarming about the Sea Sprite, trying to get in position.
"We'll get you in to the docks, and Carradoon has a fair number of shipwrights to help in your repairs," Terraducket went on. "Even on that mast, though we'll have to find a tall tree indeed to replace it! Know that it will cost you a fair number of stories about your sailing adventures on the Sea of Swords, if I know my fellows!"