Passage to Dawn

released in Mintarn.'

'You would have been killed in Mintarn Harbor,' Drizzt reminded him.

'You will be released in Mintarn,' Deudermont promised.

Dunkin knew what that meant.

'When we might have a proper inquiry as to your part in the attempted ambush of the Sea Sprite,' Deudermont went on.

'I did nothing!' Dunkin cried, tugging his ear.

'It is convenient that so soon after you informed me that Drizzt's presence aboard the Sea Sprite was preventing any pirate attacks, you arranged to take Drizzt from our decks,' Deudermont said.

'I was almost killed by that very ambush!' Dunkin roared in protest. 'If I had known that the scalawags were after you, I never would have rowed out into the harbor.'

Deudermont looked to Drizzt.

'True enough,' the drow admitted.

Deudermont paused a moment, then nodded. 'I find you innocent,' he said to Dunkin, 'and agree to return you to Mintarn after our journey to Caerwich.'

'You will pick me back up at Wyngate, then,' Dunkin reasoned, but Deudermont shook his head.

'Too far,' the captain replied. 'None of my crew will disembark at Wyngate. And now that I must return to Mintarn, I will return from Caerwich by a northerly route, passing north of the Moonshaes.'

'Then let me off at Wyngate and I'll find a way to meet you in a northern town of the Moonshaes,' Dunkin offered.

'Which northern town?' Deudermont asked him.

Dunkin had no answers.

'If you wish to leave, you may get off at Wyngate,' Deudermont offered. 'But I cannot guarantee your passage back to Mintarn from there.' With that, Deudermont turned and walked to his cabin. He entered without looking back, leaving a frustrated Dunkin standing droop-shouldered by the wheel.

'With your knowledge of Caerwich, you will be a great asset to us,' Drizzt said to the man, patting him on the shoulder. 'Your presence would be appreciated.'

'Ah, come along then,' Catti-brie added. 'Ye'll find a bit o' adventure and a bit o' friendship. What more could ye be asking for?'

Drizzt and Catti-brie walked away, exchanging hopeful smiles.

'I am new to this, too,' Harkle Harpell offered to Dunkin. 'But I am sure that it will be fun.' Smiling, bobbing his head stupidly, the dimpled wizard bounded away.

Dunkin moved to the rail, shaking his head. He did like the Sea Sprite, he had to admit. Orphaned at a young age, Dunkin had taken to sea as a boy and had subsequently spent the bulk of his next twenty years as a hand on pirate vessels, working among the most ruthless scalawags on the Sword Coast. Never had he seen a ship so full of comradery, and their escape from the pirate ambush in Mintarn had been positively thrilling.

He had been nothing but a complaining fool over the last few days, and Deudermont had to know of his past, or at least to suspect that Dunkin had done some pirating in his day. Yet the captain was not treating him as a prisoner, and, by the words of the dark elf, they actually wanted him to go along to Caerwich.

Dunkin leaned over the rail, took note of a school of bottle-nosed dolphins dancing in the prow waves and lost himself in thought.

* * * * *

'You're thinking about them again,' came a voice behind the sullen dwarf. It was the voice of Regis, the voice of a friend.

Bruenor didn't answer. He stood on a high spot along the rim of the dwarven valley, four miles south of Kelvin's Cairn, a place known as Bruenor's Climb. This was the dwarf king's place of reflection. Though this column of piled stones was not high above the flat tundra, barely fifty feet up, every time he climbed the steep and narrow trail it seemed to Bruenor as though he was ascending to the very stars.

Regis huffed and puffed as he clambered up the last twenty feet to stand beside his bearded friend. 'I do love it up here at night,' the halfling remarked. 'But there will not be much night in another month!' he continued happily, trying to bring a smile to Bruenor's face. His observation was true enough. Far, far in the north, Icewind Dale's summer days were long indeed, but only a few hours of sun graced the winter sky.

'Not a lot o' time up here,' Bruenor agreed. 'Time I'm wantin' to spend alone.' He turned to Regis as he spoke, and even in the darkness, the halfling could make out the scowling visage.

Regis knew the truth of that expression. Bruenor was more bark than bite.

'You would not be happy up here alone,' the halfling countered. 'You would think of Drizzt and Catti-brie, and miss them as much as I miss them, and then you would be a veritable growling yeti in the morning. I cannot have that, of course,' the half-ling said, waggling a finger in the air. 'In fact, a dozen dwarves begged me to come out here and keep up your cheer.'

Bruenor huffed, but had no reasonable response. He turned away from Regis, mostly because he did not want the halfling to see the hint of a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. In the six years since Drizzt and Catti-brie had gone away, Regis had become Bruenor's closest friend, though a certain dwarven priestess named Stumpet Rakingclaw had been almost continually by Bruenor's side, particularly of late. Giggled whispers spoke of a closer bond growing between the dwarf king and the female.

But it was Regis who knew Bruenor best, Regis who had come out here when, Bruenor had to admit, he truly needed the company. Since the return to Icewind Dale, Drizzt and Catti-brie had been on the old dwarfs mind almost continually. The only things that had saved Bruenor from falling into a deep depression had been the sheer volume of work in trying to reopen the dwarven mines, and Regis, always there, always smiling, always assuring Bruenor that Drizzt and Catti-brie would return to him.

'Where do you think they are?' Regis asked after a long moment of silence.

Bruenor smiled and shrugged, looking to the south and west, and not at the halfling. 'Out there,' was all that he replied.

'Out there,' Regis echoed. 'Drizzt and Catti-brie. And you miss them, as do I.' The halfling moved closer, put a hand on Bruenor's muscled shoulder. 'And I know that you miss the cat,' Regis said, once again drawing the dwarf from dark thoughts.

Bruenor looked at him and couldn't help but grin. The mention of Guenhwyvar reminded Bruenor not only of all the conflict between himself and the panther, but also that Drizzt and Catti-brie, his two dear friends, were not alone and were more than able to take care of themselves.

The dwarf and halfling stood for a long time that night, in silence, listening to the endless wind that gave the dale its name and feeling as though they were among the stars.

*****

The gathering of supplies went well at Wyngate and the Sea Sprite, fully provisioned and fully repaired, put out and soon left the Moonshaes far behind.

The winds diminished greatly, though, just a day off the western coast of the Moonshaes. They were out in the open ocean with no land in sight.

The schooner could not be completely calmed, not with Robillard aboard. But still, the wizard's powers were limited; he could not keep the sails full of wind for very long, and settled for a continual fluttering that moved the ship along slowly.

Thus the days passed, uneventful and hot, the Sea Sprite rolling in the ocean swells, creaking and swaying. Deudermont ordered strict rationing three days out of Wyngate, as much to slow the rising incidents of seasickness as to preserve the food stores. At least the crew wasn't worried about pirates. Few other ships came out this far, certainly no cargo or merchant vessels, nothing lucrative enough to keep a pirate happy.

The only enemies were the seasickness, the sunburn, and the boredom of days and days of nothing but the flat water.

They found some excitement on the fifth day out. Drizzt, on the forward beam, spotted a tail fin, the dorsal fin of a huge shark, running parallel to the schooner. The drow yelled up to Waillan, who was in the crow's nest at