R. Salvatore - The Companions

With her friends not to be found, coupled with the news she had gleaned of Drizzt, who had not been seen around Ten-Towns in more than a decade, and who, it was said, had come running to Icewind Dale in flight from a great demon, and the woman had been near to despair. Catti-brie had seen the memorial to a drow named Tiago outside of Bryn Shander’s western gate, on the spot where Tiago had reportedly destroyed the balor in a great battle that had taken down part of Bryn Shander’s wall and her gate. But that battle had been fifteen years and more removed, and there had been no word of Drizzt. None.

With no sign of Drizzt and being the first of the three who had stepped out of Iruladoon to arrive, there was no small amount of doubt and fear growing in the woman over the last few months, and so her heart truly warmed now at this sight.

For here he was, Regis, reclining on the banks of Maer Dualdon, a fishing line tied to his toe. How many times had Catti-brie witnessed this scene in the years before the Spellplague?

She wanted to rush down and wrap him in a great hug, but she held herself back. She had come too far to rush headlong to Regis, at least until she had learned more about how he had come here, and what he had brought with him, inadvertently or otherwise.

For in the back of Catti-brie’s mind lay her own troubles. She knew that Lady Avelyere had not given up the hunt for her. Even though nearly two years had passed since she had fled the Ivy Mansion, a magical ride that seemed to have put Avelyere off the trail!” Bruenor warned.5N3 certainlyon, Catti-brie did not underestimate the lady’s stubbornness. Avelyere knew that she was alive, that she had faked her death in Shade Enclave, and that she had traveled to the far west. Perhaps Avelyere even knew of Catti-brie’s ultimate destination, Icewind Dale. Catti-brie could not be sure, since she couldn’t be sure of how much she had actually divulged to Avelyere when under the hypnotic dweomers of the powerful diviner. It could well be that Lady Avelyere and her allies were somewhere within Icewind Dale, perhaps even in one of the towns, lying in wait.

If that was so and Catti-brie was caught, then what a wretched friend she would be, to both Regis and Drizzt, to have Regis dragged away beside her.

So she took her joy in seeing him from afar.

She moved back into the forest, not far from his house, and there constructed a shrine to Mielikki, a private garden sheltered from the coming winter, and that she meant to tend throughout the next season, until the night of the spring equinox.

The woman nodded at her choice. She would watch over Regis closely, but in secret.

“Boisterous bunch,” Darby Snide said to Catti-brie when she moved up to the bar in his tavern in Bremen a tenday later. He was a big man, with huge hands and gigantic sideburns that rode all the way down his jawline, just short of connecting at his chin.

Catti-brie looked around, and indeed, Knuckleheader, the tavern, was full this night, and with a raucous crowd, particularly one loud group across the way by the front window. Catti-brie had heard their catcalls when she entered, moving right past them.

“Is that why you sent for me?” she asked. “Or are your larders thin for so many?”

“Could use some food, Miss Curtie, if you’ve the spell to conjure any,” Darby admitted, and Catti-brie nodded. She had spent her first tendays in Icewind Dale right here in Bremen and had taken a room in this very inn, bartering for room and board in trade for her magical dweomers. She conjured food, healed the minor wounds of patrons, even cured a few diseases, all compliments of the Knuckleheader, and in exchange, Darby had treated her quite well.

Indeed, Catti-brie, under the name once more of Delly Curtie, had similar arrangements with a tavern in Bryn Shander, and with Stokely’s dwarves under the mountain, and lesser relationships with innkeepers in all of the towns.

“They look like a Luskar crew,” Catti-brie remarked.

“Ship Rethnor, say the whispers,” Darby agreed.

Catti-brie nodded. “So why are you calling for me? Are you expecting a fight and hoping to sell out some healing spells?”

A surprised Darby turned fast on her, to see her wide grin, and he let out a burst of hearty laughter.

“No, lassie,” he replied. “I thought you might like to know that they’ve been asking about a friend of yours.”

Catti-brie’s grin disappeared. “A friend?”

“The little halfling friend you’ve been looking for, and found, so say the whispers, in Lonelywood.”

Catti-brie stared at him incredulously, then realized that she shouldn’t be surprised her search for Regis would take her to Lonelywood. “They know of him?” she asked.hat playthings we be,” an knew wellim

Darby shrugged. “I didn’t tell them, surely, but the little one’s easy to point out, with his dress and manners, from what I been hearing. My guess is that they’ll find him soon enough. Might be friends of his.”

Catti-brie studied the group of ruffians and found that she could not come to that conclusion.

“Be aware, Regis,” came a voice out of nowhere, and the halfling, reclining on the bank of the lake, opened wide a sleepy eye. He almost jumped up, but the mention of his real name gave him pause, as did the tone of the whisper, and a strange familiarity with the voice itself.

“I am here, beside you,” came another whisper. “Four from Ship Rethnor are in the woods, seeking you.”

“Catti?” the halfling whispered back, suddenly catching on. Regis couldn’t draw breath, and couldn’t begin to sort out the words-for what did they even matter to him in that glorious moment! This was Catti-brie, he knew it! She had survived the years; their crazy plan to meet up on Kelvin’s Cairn-one that had seemed incredible to Regis now that he had actually managed to return to Icewind Dale-might actually come to pass.

But here she was, after twenty-one years, standing beside him … invisibly?

“I will tell you when they near,” she replied, bringing Regis back to the matter at hand. “Feign your nap and draw them in.”

Regis shifted just a bit, moving his hand near to the crossbow handle in front of his right hip, and better angling himself for a quick leap and turn. That thought had him glancing down nervously at his one bare foot, though, and at the fishing line tied around his toe.

He felt a hand on that foot, then, and nearly jumped in surprise, as his invisible friend carefully removed the line.

“They are at the tree line,” Catti-brie quietly informed him, “coming forward cautiously.”

“Good to ‘see’ you,” Regis quietly greeted, wearing a sarcastic smile, for of course, he could not see the woman at all.

Catti-brie began a soft chant, and Regis felt warmth flowing through him. He put a hand to his rapier hilt as she began a second spell, and now felt his grip intensify, as if she had loaned him the physical strength of her goddess.

She was magically preparing him for battle, he understood, covering him with wards and magical energy. He woret didn’t last.

“A bow!” Catti-brie cried suddenly.

Up leaped the halfling, spinning around and drawing his hand crossbow as he went. As the invisible woman had informed him, four attackers came at him, three men brandishing swords and a woman, standing back with her bow leveled his way.

He heard Catti-brie chanting the words of another spell; he lifted his hand to fire, but saw the arrow speeding his way. It hit something, some magical shield perhaps, and flashed and deflected, but not harmlessly, diving down and driving hard into Regis’s thigh. He yelped and fired wildly, and none of the three men charging at him slowed.

The wounded halfling stubbornly fought to hold his balance and drew his blades, grimacing through th a grin, but i