R. Salvatore - The Companions

“There! There! Oh, dear child!” Wigglefingers yelled, jumping up and down and pointing to the northeast. He was still looking through his wizard eye, and had seen Spider come forth from the hull, trailing blood and eyes wide with terror, and lungs near to bursting, if his expression was to be believed.

“Up anchor!” Pericolo yelled and the other halflings grabbed the line and began hoisting.

The wizard eye dweomer expired.

“Faster!” Wigglefingers implored the crew, slapping his forehead and silently cursing his spell’s ill-timing. “Oh, Spider!”

He and Pericolo leaned over the rail, staring off into the distance. The water roiled as Spider broke through, gasping and splashing, and sinking right back under.

“Faster!” Pericolo demanded. “Hold on, boy!” he cried. He and Wigglefingers turned, hearing a thump behind them, and they had barely registered it as Donnola’s boots falling to the deck as the young woman rushed between them and dived overboard.

“Donnola!” Pericolo cried. He turned to the crew and yelled at them to go faster, then jumped down beside them and began pulchor line.

“Do something, mage!” he yelled at Wigglefingers.

“I have nothing to offer, Grandfather!”

“A servant! A rope trick! Speed for Donnola! Something!”

But the mage could only shrug helplessly. “Nothing,” he said in a defeated tone, but he perked up immediately and cried, “She has him!” jumping up and down on the deck with glee.

Pericolo scrambled back to the rail and got there just as he heard the anchor come up over the side.

It didn’t matter, though, for Donnola was now approaching, one arm locked tightly around Spider’s chest.

“Is he dead? Oh, child!” Pericolo wailed, for the younger halfling showed no signs of life.

“Help me, asked, and Catti-brie nodded.we, particularlyim” Donnola begged, spitting water and clearly exhausted. She shoved Spider forward, where Pericolo and Wigglefingers grabbed him by the tunic and roughly pulled him aboard.

Despite the immediate concerns, neither failed to gasp at the sight of the fabulous dagger affixed to Spider’s hand. They laid him out in the bottom of the boat, while others helped Donnola aboard.

“Row fast, sail fast, to Delthuntle!” Pericolo demanded. “We must find a priest for the boy.”

“Spider, Spider,” Donnola pleaded, climbing across to lie atop the prostrate halfling. “Oh Spider, don’t you die on me!”

Regis, falling backward into a great darkness, could not ignore that plea. He opened one eye, coughed up some seawater, and managed a little smile.

Then he fell into unconsciousness, letting go within the tender embrace of Donnola Topolino.

“It saved my life,” Regis said, taking the three-bladed dagger from Grandfather Pericolo. “I had lost my rapier.”

“Easily replaced,” Pericolo said. “And not worth the effort to return to the wreck to retrieve it.”

“I won’t go back there,” Regis said flatly. Beside him, Donnola put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“No, no, of course not. Be at ease, my dear Spider,” Pericolo replied with a warm smile. “Your extraordinary courage and competence soared beyond my expectations-my high expectations, I assure you! I would not ask you to return, and have no plans to do so, in any case.”

He grinned wryly.

“You will sell the location of the wreck,” Regis said, and both Donnola and Wigglefingers looked at him with surprise, but then nodded their agreement and turned to Pericolo, who was smiling even wider.

“You see?” the Grandfather asked. “My faith in Spider is not misplaced. Well reasoned, my boy! Yes, we have our treasures”-he waved his arm to the side, to a table covered in gems and jewels, potion bottles and assorted trinkets-“and likely the best of the lot to be found. I have all the proof of the wreck I need to auction the location, and no matter what comes further from it, I have-”

“You have secured your legacy as the person who discovered Ebonsoul’s resting place,” Regis interrupted.

Pericolo nodded and patted his young protege’s other shoulder. “You were promised your pick of the treasures, and surely you earned that, at least.”

Regis turned and glanced at the table.

“The dagger is powerful,” Wigglefingers said. “More so than you have yet discovered. It is possessed of many enchantments, I suspect, and better than that, it is not possessed of its own identity and pride, which is oft the downfall of mighty weapons.”

Regis nodded, and marked well the truth of the wizard’s words, remembering Khazid’hea, the Cutter, and what it had done to Catti-brie more than a century before. She hadn’t been ready to do mental battle with the blade, and the evil thing had overwhelmed her.

“What else might it do?” Regis asked, but Wigglefingers just shrugged and shook his head.

“For your secondhe had returned to Faerunan{margin-top: 1em;text-align: centerim choice, I suggest this,” said Pericolo, and he brought forth a curious ring, iron-banded and set with a prism-shaped gemstone. “You will find it useful in many of your tasks, I expect.”

Regis took it and lifted it up before his eyes, and found one use immediately, for turning the triangular prism stone just so and peering through it greatly magnified the immediate field of view.

“Again an item full of magic,” said Wigglefingers. “And quite useful.”

“What else will it do?”

“You will sort it out when you need it,” the mage assured him. “That is the way with magic rings.”

Regis slipped the ring on and shivered, for a chilly wave of energy flowed through him. He looked down at the ring with some concern.

“There are spells which see heat and creatures who view the world in that way,” Wigglefingers explained, something Regis knew well, of course, but that Spider likely would not. “With that ring, I believe that you are invisible to such dweomers.”

“Not very snuggly, though,” Donnola remarked, hugging herself as she backed away from Regis, and they all laughed.

Regis closed his eyes and called to the ring, and the chill passed, and he heard the hints of other possibilities contained within. It occurred to him that when he enacted the chill, he would find himself protected from heat, from fire even. And there was more within that gemstone prism, he realized, and he couldn’t help but smile.

A bank of fog wafted up from the depths and gathered atop the Sea of Fallen Stars, above Thepurl’s Diamond, in the dark of night. It hovered there for some time, its edges rolling in the sea breeze, but not dissipating in the least.

Then it began to drift, but not on the breeze-indeed, counter to the breeze, making its way slowly to the northeast, toward the shore of Aglarond and the city of Delthuntle.

Regis awakened to the sound of the most horrific, bloodcurdling scream he had ever imagined. So jarring was it that the halfling tumbled out of his bed and onto the floor, tangling in his blankets and bedclothes.

He finally extricated himself, grabbed his dagger, and crouched in the corner, trying to figure out his next move. He didn’t dare light a candle.

He looked out the window, thinking to go outside and circle around for a better position. He tried to sort out the scream. Who was it? From where had it emanated?

He caught his breath as his bedroom door burst open, torchlight spilling in from beyond. He recognized the silhouette of Donnola, stumbling in, and rushed to her.

“Run!” she said, and she thrust some items at him.

“Quickly, Lady,” said Donnola’s guard, coming into the room with the torch.

In the light, Regis noted the gifts Donnola had offered: a sword belt and pouch. His eyes widened indeed when he noted Pericolo’s fabulous rapier hanging in that belt, and across from it on the right hip, the smaller holster for the magical hand crossbow.