Neverwinter

11

Dahlia crawled through the brush. She was quite familiar with forests, having grown up in the thick boughs of one, and with her fine elf eyes, she was able to penetrate the darkness quite well, to separate flora from fauna and rocks from enemies. And her enemies were out there, she knew, probably in the trees, some crawling around the ground, sniffling for any scent of her and Drizzt. She had no idea how many minions Hadencourt might be able to summon from the Nine Hells, but she couldn’t deny the effectiveness of those he’d already sent against them.

She glanced back from where she’d come at that thought. She’d escaped the sting of the spined devils, but Drizzt had not.

Dahlia knew she might have to leave him to Hadencourt. He’d taken a vicious barrage of those poisoned quills, and when Dahlia cut them out, despite the drow’s stoicism, she’d seen the profound agony on his face, and the green poison flowing from his wounds.

The elf closed her eyes at that thought. Drizzt had saved her from the traps of Ship Kurth, and had saved her again in the fight with the legion devils and Hadencourt-she couldn’t deny that truth. They had been caught by surprise, and nearly overwhelmed, and the drow’s daring maneuver had given her room to flee. And now she might have to abandon him to his doom.

She didn’t like it, but she saw no alternative.

Dahlia hoped they could stay hidden long enough for Drizzt to recover.

I will tell the devil where you are, witch, came a voice in her head, a familiar voice, but one Dahlia had never expected to hear again. I will lead him to you and watch him devour you. Perhaps I will even possess your lifeless body, and torture it through the years.

“Dor’crae,” Dahlia spat, glancing around in horror.

She had no idea how the spirit of her vampire lover could speak to her. She had not only watched, but had ushered in the vampire’s seemingly utter destruction in the rushing wave of water elementals back in Gauntlgrym. But the voice in her head was that of Dor’crae! She knew it without doubt even then as she heard the vampire spirit’s taunting laughter.

You thought me destroyed, but I remain, the voice went on. I am more than my mortal trappings, you see. And indeed, I will need a new body. May I have yours, Dahlia?

Dahlia brushed away the taunts, and her surprise at realizing that Dor’crae survived, pressed by the importance of the actual threat he’d uttered. Could Dor’crae, apparently a disembodied, free-floating spirit, do as he’d suggested? Could he lead Hadencourt to Dahlia and Drizzt in their hiding place, a shallow cave, which was no more, really, than a narrow crevice between a pair of out-leaning boulders?

The elf rose from her crouch, turning slowly as if expecting the vampire to appear suddenly and strike out at her. Her finger went to a loop on her belt, where she kept a wooden finger-spike, a subtle stake to drive into Dor’crae’s black heart.

She waited a bit longer, concentrating to try to catch any hint of Dor’crae’s telepathy. Had she imagined it? Was this one of the devil’s tricks? Or was this, perhaps, a manifestation of her normally dormant conscience because she’d considered leaving Drizzt to die?

When she heard nothing more, Dahlia crept back through the brush to the overhang. She expected to see Drizzt lying on his back, sweating profusely and near delirium.

She didn’t understand Drizzt Do’Urden.

He was sitting up, and though his hair was disheveled and a bit matted from sweat, he managed a wry smile at Dahlia as he dug one last quill tip from his arm.

“I may need a new cloak,” the drow lamented, and poked his finger through one of the holes in his forest-green weathercloak.

“The poison?” Dahlia asked.

“By my word, it hurts,” Drizzt casually replied. He clenched his right fist, the muscles on his swollen arm tightening and forcing more blood and pus from the many wounds on his arms.

“Can you fight?”

Drizzt looked up at her. “Have I a choice?”

“Likely not,” said Dahlia. “I suspect we have a spy among us.”

Drizzt glanced all around.

“A spirit,” Dahlia said. She sighed deeply and looked around at the forest. “Dor’crae came to me.”

“The vampire?”

“Corporeally destroyed, but with a stubborn spirit, it would seem. And he mentioned our devil pursuers.”

Drizzt crinkled his brow.

“I think Hadencourt may soon come calling,” Dahlia said. “Can you bring back your panther?”

“No, Guenhwyvar needs to rest on the Astral Plane. The magic of the figurine can be broken if it’s sorely overused. It will be days before I summon her again-a tenday if there’s any way I can manage without her.”

Dahlia considered the odds. “Hadencourt has at least three legion devils remaining at his side, and perhaps some more of the spiny creatures.”

“The battlefield has to be of our choosing,” Drizzt explained.

Dahlia glanced back over her shoulder at the dark forest. “We should be gone, then, and soon.”

Soon after, Dahlia crouched in the brush atop a small hillock, looking down over their previous encampment, and indeed, Hadencourt’s minions were there, crawling all around the boulders.

Had it truly been Dor’crae who had come to her, and done as he’d promised? Was it possible?

She lay still and closed her eyes, listening to the wind and the rustle of leaves, trying to sense something more.

She felt it, then: a titter of mocking laughter-not aloud, but in her thoughts. Dor’crae had found her again.

The elf warrior got up and walked to a small clearing. She broke Kozah’s Needle into two four-foot lengths and set them to spinning and swinging. She knew this dance, had used it many times before to gather the weapon’s inner strength. Now she spun, bringing the poles together hard, a crackling blue bolt arcing out just briefly before being caught by Kozah’s Needle and sucked back in. And so it went, around and around, the staves clapping together and creating a jolt that Kozah’s Needle immediately absorbed.

She could feel the weapon’s power gathering within, the metal tingling in her grip. She chanted to the ancient, forgotten Netherese god that lent the weapon his name as she performed the ritual. The stars above her dimmed, their sparkles stolen by a concentrated black cloud.

They came at her all at once, all three of the legion devils charging from the brush, waving their swords and howling at the sight of their prey.

Dahlia spun to meet them, her two staves becoming flails, which she immediately put up in a furious routine, spinning them out left, right, and in front of her to keep the three at bay.

The legion devils seemed more than content to fan around her and come at her with measured strikes instead, their caution allowing Dahlia only a couple of hard hits against raised shields. In came their swords, in fine concert, and Dahlia had to work wildly to bat those strikes aside. Trusting her companion, she turned her attention to the devil in front of her and the one to the right, a move that surely gave the legion devil on her left flank an easy opening.

That beast howled as it moved to exploit the exposed elf, but it howled all the louder when a streaking magical arrow slammed into its chest, driving it back. A second followed, then a third, which clipped off the shield the devil tried to bring forth and exploded right in the fiend’s face.

“Down!” Drizzt yelled in the tongue of the surface elves, and Dahlia, without breaking her flowing routine, dropped to her knees.

Right over her head came the next arrow, aimed squarely at the center devil’s chest.

And so it would have struck the beast, except that Dahlia’s spinning flail whirled too near it and the weapon drew the arrow’s lightning energy into it, stealing the weight of the blow.

Dahlia looked at her flail with true surprise, and she could feel the power swelling within it. A second arrow followed the first and this time she purposely intercepted it.

Her hand burned with the power contained within that metal weapon, and she wasted no time in slapping it across to her right. The devil there got its shield up easily to block, but no matter. As Kozah’s Needle struck that shield, the added energy of two of Taulmaril’s missiles burst forth, hurling the fiend several strides away. Down went the devil, jerking in spasms, head shaking violently, jaw clenching, snapping and biting at the empty air.

In the span of a few heartbeats and a few launched arrows, Dahlia found herself one-on-one with the remaining devil, and she went on the offensive, brutally and almost recklessly, determined to bring the fiend down before its companion could return to its side. Her flails spun up and around, to the side and in at the legion devil from every angle, again and again. The devil tried to counter through one of the obvious openings left by the aggressive attacks, but Dahlia wouldn’t relent long enough for that, and anytime the devil tried to go on the attack, it got hit and hit hard, and hit repeatedly.

Drizzt understood his companion’s strategy, and knew that the fiend Dahlia’s lightning magic had thrown to the ground wouldn’t be out of the fight for long. He couldn’t get a clear shot at that one, though, so he turned his bow to her current opponent.

Again the drow felt that invincibility, that sense of living on the edge and the confidence that he wouldn’t tumble over that edge. By any reasonable measure, he should not dare this shot with Dahlia engaged in such close and furious combat.

But he knew he wouldn’t hit her.

He let fly his well-aimed shot, skipping an arrow beneath the legion devil’s shield to blast and burrow into its leg. How it howled!

Somehow, though, the stubborn creature held its balance and its battle posture.

No matter, though, for Dahlia’s spinning weapon hit it again, even harder.

Drizzt changed his focus immediately, going back to the first devil he’d shot. He calmly walked forward, missile after missile flying forth from his enchanted bow, sizzling darts blasting into the devil’s shield, burning devil flesh and driving the fiend ever backward.

Drizzt sensed a powerful presence at his side. He kept walking forward, kept firing, though he knew his target to be fast-dying by then.

Only when Hadencourt leaped out at him did Drizzt drop Taulmaril and respond, drawing his blades as he turned.

Hadencourt’s arm swept across, his bracer throwing forth a volley of explosive shuriken.

And Drizzt’s scimitars swept across to counter, blades very near the devil’s arm, very near the source of the shuriken, thus blocking each as they spun forth, and before they could gain any separation. Each of those missiles exploded almost halfway between Hadencourt and Drizzt, thus inflicting as much damage and disorientation on the devil as on the drow.

With a snarl of rage, Hadencourt brought forth his great trident, swinging it across like a slashing sword to drive Drizzt back a couple of strides, then turning it deftly in mid-swing so that he could stab it straight out.

Drizzt dodged left, the trident just missing. Then left again he went as the spearlike weapon thrust forth a second time, then back to the right to avoid a third stab.

He slapped at the trident with each pass, his blades sparking as they connected with the hellish metal.

Growling with rage, wild with fury, Hadencourt, like Dahlia had done across the way, came on.

But Drizzt Do’Urden was no legion devil, no foot soldier, and he kept one step ahead of the devil’s thrusts, dodging and parrying, letting the malebranche’s rage play out. And all the while, the warrior Drizzt waited patiently for an opening. The drow knew he was winning, and his smile reflected that confidence.

But the malebranche was gone in an instant, and in its place stood the legion devil Dahlia had knocked aside with the lightning powers of Kozah’s Needle.

Drizzt wasn’t ready for this magical trick, but the legion devil surely was-yet another testament to the coordinating telepathy and battlefield acuity of the malebranche. Suddenly facing a different manner of opponent entirely, Drizzt hadn’t the time to reorient his defenses. A shield swept aside the drow’s scimitars and the legion devil stabbed for the drow’s heart.

Dahlia scored a clean hit against the side of her battered opponent’s head, staggering it. She glanced at the one behind her, writhing on the ground in its death throes, defeated by the barrage of Drizzt’s magical arrows. She noted the devil she’d shocked… then gasped in surprise as it disappeared, to be replaced by Hadencourt himself.

Her surprise cost her the initiative against her opponent, and the legion devil, wounded and stunned as it was, came on ferociously, sword slashing back and forth and driving Dahlia backward. She watched it, she measured its attacks and stayed just ahead, and she watched Hadencourt, as well, so near, and truly she feared that the malebranche would soon join in.

She fell away, back and left, as Hadencourt charged… right past her.

Drizzt turned aside, the devil’s sword grazing his mithral shirt-and had he been wearing anything less than that, he surely would have been skewered. The fiend reacted to the failed attack and retracted its blade quickly, but not fast enough as the quick-stepping drow slid forward.

Drizzt ducked low, dropping into a deep crouch. He knew the devil had but one counter: a desperate backhanded swipe. The sword went over his head harmlessly, leaving him a perfect opening to stab the devil under the ribs, perhaps even to score a complete victory over his resolute foe.

But he didn’t take it. Noting movement ahead, Drizzt instead rushed back farther, the legion devil turning desperately to keep up… oblivious to Hadencourt’s swinging forearm a few strides behind it.

Using that lesser opponent as a shield, Drizzt avoided the shuriken barrage. The legion devil jerked spasmodically as the spinning missiles invaded its back and exploded. Under that brutal assault, the fiend couldn’t hold any measure of its defensive posture, and the drow struck hard.

The fiend stood dead on its feet, tilting and about to fall over, its face locked in a hateful stare at Drizzt, when the malebranche arrived right behind it, swatting it aside with no regard whatsoever for its condition.

On came Hadencourt, his great trident stabbing hard and slashing viciously, forcing Drizzt back and to the side. The furious malebranche pressed on relentlessly, driving the drow ever backward, and with attacks too forceful and potentially devastating for Drizzt to even think of countering.

“Where are you running, fool?” Hadencourt taunted.

Drizzt had no verbal jab to counter that. As he’d known his advantage previous, so he recognized Hadencourt’s now. He thought of the trees, the higher branches, and he let his gaze slip up there once or twice, trying to get Hadencourt to believe that he meant to add another dimension to the battlefield. His retreat was more than a ruse, however, for he could hardly believe the ferocity of the malebranche, and he found it hard to achieve any counters against Hadencourt’s great trident, let alone any effective ones.

So he backed and Hadencourt came on. Drizzt managed a last glance at Dahlia, who had not yet regained even footing against her legion devil opponent.

Suddenly, things were not going well.

Drizzt stumbled back against a thick tree and managed to roll around it just in time to put it between himself and the thrusting trident. He came right back out, hoping the weapon might have gotten snagged on the tree.

But Hadencourt was ready for him, and Drizzt had to dodge back to the other side as the devil filled in the space where he’d been standing.

Drizzt darted out to his right, back the way they’d come, then reversed to the left with great speed.

Hadencourt kept up, though, and more dangerously, so did the malebranche’s deadly trident, putting Drizzt on the very edge of absolute catastrophe.

The fiend slipped up, trying too fast for a kill, and as Dahlia knocked aside that awkward thrust, she turned the tide of the battle yet again. Now back in balance and with the shock of Hadencourt fading, she had only the one legion devil standing in front of her, and standing uncertainly, with a hole blown into one leg from Drizzt’s magical arrow. The battered fiend somehow managed a modicum of balance, but even so, had one arm drooping from the beating Dahlia had given it.

Dahlia knew she would win here, knew that this foe was nearing its end. But as she worked her way around, turning the devil with her so that she could witness Hadencourt’s charge, she didn’t feel nearly as confident regarding her companion’s chances. She watched the other legion devil fall under Hadencourt’s barrage, thanks to a clever turn by Drizzt, but her hopes lasted only the moment it took the mighty malebranche to close the gap to Drizzt, immediately putting him on the defensive, and with no sign of Hadencourt’s overwhelming advantage easing. Dahlia gasped aloud as Drizzt went around the tree, and Hadencourt stabbed the trunk so powerfully the elm nearly broke and fell over.

That gasp, that distraction, cost her, and almost dearly, for the legion devil was not similarly distracted and came on with a slash, which Dahlia blocked, but then with a shield rush, too sudden and too near for Dahlia to dodge.

Wisely, the elf didn’t try to brace against the battering shield, but instead gave ground willingly, even flying to her back, but in a controlled manner that allowed her to complete the roll and come back to her feet.

The legion devil never slowed, though, and so paced her.

But Dahlia had expected that, and in her roll, she rejoined her staff into a singular unit, and when she came over, rolling only to her knees, she planted the end of that eight-foot staff in the ground beside her and held on tightly.

The legion devil’s breath blasted out as it collided with the other end of that metal pole, the tip catching it right in mid-chest. It was not a fatal blow, surely, and nothing from which the legion devil couldn’t quickly recover and still hold the advantage over the kneeling female.

Except that Kozah’s Needle wasn’t a simple metal pole, and the lightning energy that Dahlia had built up after her first release mostly remained, and the cloud that Dahlia had summoned was still above her head, teeming with energy.

A lightning bolt came down to her call, blasting into Kozah’s Needle, transferring through the metal staff and taking the weapon’s pent up energy with it. A great arc of power burst out the staff’s other end into the unwitting legion devil’s chest.

The beast flew away, ten strides or more. It landed feet first, but only for a brief moment as it continued to soar backward, crashing to the ground, sword flying from its grasp.

Dahlia leaped up and charged across. When she arrived, the legion devil was still on the ground, still jolting wildly from residual energy. In full stride, she planted the tip of Kozah’s Needle under the fiend’s chin and threw herself fully behind it, even lifting off the ground as she drove the weapon home.

She heard the crack of bone and felt the fiend go limp, though one limb or the other still twitched from the lightning.

Dahlia spun around and recognized immediately that she couldn’t get to Drizzt in time to help him.

Hadencourt had his back to the tree, and both the malebranche and Drizzt knew that the drow couldn’t exploit that to begin any type of offensive counter to the stabbing and slashing of the huge trident.

Drizzt, though, did use Hadencourt’s position to his advantage. He had one trick remaining, and now he executed it, calling upon his magical anklets to speed him. He leaped and spun to his left, daringly going right past Hadencourt, whose slash with the cumbersome trident couldn’t quite catch up to the sprinting drow. Out Drizzt went farther, and Hadencourt kept going in his turn, trident continuing its pursuit as the devil let go with his left hand and opened wide with his right, reaching far to the side like a hunting bird circling from on high.

He might have continued that turn, rolling off the tree, might have kept up to Drizzt and maintained his advantage.

But Drizzt knew better and his sly smile showed it, showed Hadencourt as surely as the thunder of hooves revealed the truth of the drow’s long and seemingly desperate dodge.

Hadencourt turned his gaze just in time to see the last speeding stride of Andahar, head down, horn in line.

The unicorn hit the malebranche at full speed and with tremendous force, rattling the tree behind Hadencourt, pinning the devil and puncturing him, the horn driving right through to hit the tree bark behind him.

Drizzt leaped forward and caught the trident’s shaft, preventing the devil from bringing it back to wound his beloved steed, but he needn’t have bothered, he realized, for there was no strength left in Hadencourt’s grip. Indeed, the malebranche simply dropped his weapon. Hadencourt stood there transfixed, arms out wide, fingers splayed open and twitching as if trying to grasp the empty air.

Andahar’s hooves continued to pound, the unicorn driving in even harder, twisting and thrashing its horned head around. The malebranche’s mouth hung open wide in a silent scream, and his eyes showed the hatred in his black heart, showed a promise to Drizzt that the battle might be over, but the war between them had just become eternal.

But to that, Drizzt, who felt more alive than he had in centuries, only returned a wide and sincere smile and taunted, “I know a balor who would join your vendetta. If you could bring yourself to align with such a creature as Errtu, I mean.”

Staring hatefully, Hadencourt melted away from the Prime Material Plane, back to his haunt in the Nine Hells.