Catti-brie honestly did not know. Once she had decided to give her love to Wulfgar, to marry him and bear his children, to make her life with him. But that was so many years ago, a different time, a different place. Now she had feelings for another, perhaps, though in truth, she hadn't really examined those feelings any deeper than she had her current feelings for Wulfgar.
And she hadn't the time to examine them now, for Wulfgar kissed her again passionately. When she didn't respond in kind, he backed off to arms' length, staring at her hard.
Looking at him then, on the brink of disaster, on a precipice between past and future, Catti-brie came to understand that she had to give this to him. She pulled him back and initiated another kiss, and they embraced deeply, Wulfgar guiding her to the ground, rolling about, touching, caressing, fumbling with their clothes.
She let him lose himself in the passion, let him lead with touches and kisses, and she took comfort in the role she had accepted, took hope that their encounter this night would help bring Wulfgar back to the world of the living.
And it was working. Wulfgar knew it, felt it. He bared his heart and soul to her, threw away his defenses, basked in the feel of her, in the sweet smell of her, in the very softness of her.
He was free! For those first few moments he was free, and it was glorious and beautiful, and so real.
He rolled to his back, his strong hug rolling Catti-brie atop him. He bit softly on the nape of her neck, then, nearing a point of ecstasy, leaned his head back so that he could look into her eyes and share the moment of joy.
A leering succubus, vile temptress of the Abyss, stared back at him.
Wulfgar's thoughts careened back across Icewind Dale, back to the Sea of Moving Ice, to the ice cave and the fight with Errtu, then back beyond that, back to the swirling smoke and the horrors. It had all been a lie, he realized. The fight, the escape, the rejoining with his friends. All a lie perpetrated by Errtu to rekindle his hope that the demon could then snuff it out once again. All a lie, and he was still in the Abyss, dreaming of Catti-brie while entwining with a horrid succubus.
His powerful hand clamped under the creature's chin and pushed it away. His second hand came across in a vicious punch and then he lifted the beast into the air above his prone form and heaved it away, bouncing across the dirt. With a roar, Wulfgar pulled himself to his feet, fumbling to lift and straighten his pants. He staggered for the fire and,
ignoring the pain, reached in to grab a burning branch, then turned back to attack the wicked succubus.
Turned back to attack Catti-brie.
He recognized her then, half-undressed, staggering to her hands and knees, blood dripping freely from her nose. She managed to look up at him. There was no rage, only confusion on her battered face. The weight of guilt nearly buckled the barbarian's strong legs.
'I did not. .' he stammered. 'Never would I …' With a gasp and a stifled cry, Wulfgar rushed across the campsite, tossing the burning stick aside, gathering up his pack and warhammer. He ran out into the dark of night, into the ultimate darkness of his tormented mind.
Chapter 7 KELP-ENWALLED
You cannot come in,' the squeaky voice said from behind the barricade. 'Please, sir, I beg you. Go away.'
Entreri hardly found the halfling's nervous tone amusing, for the implications of the shut-out rang dangerously in his mind. He and Dwahvel had cut a deal— a mutually beneficial deal and one that seemed to favor the halfling, if anyone-and yet, now it seemed as if Dwahvel was going back on her word. Her doorman would not even let the assassin into the Copper Ante. Entreri entertained the thought of kicking in the barricade, but only briefly. He reminded himself that halflings were often adept at setting traps. Then he thought he might slip his dagger through the slit in the boards, into the impertinent doorman's arm, or thumb, or whatever other target presented itself. That was the beauty of Entreri's dagger: he could stick someone anywhere and suck the life-force right out of him.
But again, it was a fleeting thought, more of a fantasy wrought of frustration than any action the ever- careful Entreri would seriously consider.
'So I shall go,' he said calmly. 'But do inform Dwahvel that my world is divided between friends and enemies.' He turned and started away, leaving the doorman in a fluster.
'My, but that sounded like a threat,' came another voice before Entreri had moved ten paces down the street.
The assassin stopped and considered a small crack in the wall of the Copper Ante, a peep hole, he realized, and likely an arrow slit.
'Dwahvel,' he said with a slight bow.
To his surprise, the crack widened and a panel slid aside. Dwahvel walked out in the open. 'So quick to name enemies,' she said, shaking her head, her curly brown locks bouncing gaily.
'But I did not,' the assassin replied. 'Though it did anger me that you apparently decided not to go through with our deal.'
Dwahvel's face tightened suddenly, stealing the up-to-then lighthearted tone. 'Kelp-enwalled,' she explained, an expression more common to the fishing boats than the streets, but one Entreri had heard before. On the fishing boats, «kelp-enwalling» referred to the practice of isolating
particularly troublesome pincer crabs, which had to be delivered live to market, by building barricades of kelp strands about them. The term was less literal, but with similar meaning, on the street. A kelp-enwalled person had been declared off-limits, surrounded and isolated by barricades of threats.
Suddenly Entreri's expression also showed the strain.
'The order came from greater guilds than mine, from guilds that could, and would, burn the Copper Ante to the ground and kill all of my fellows with hardly a thought,' Dwahvel said with a shrug. 'Entreri is kelp-enwalled, so they said. You cannot blame me for refusing your entrance.'
Entreri nodded. He above many others could appreciate pragmatism for the sake of survival. 'Yet you chose to come out and speak with me,' he said.
Another shrug from Dwahvel. 'Only to explain why our deal has ended,' she said. 'And to ensure that I do not fall into the latter category you detailed for my doorman. I will offer to you this much, with no charge for services. Everyone knows now that you have returned, and your mere presence has made them all nervous. Old Basadoni still rules his guild, but he is in the shadows now, more a figurehead than a leader. Those handling the affairs of the Basadoni Guild, and the other guilds, for that matter, do not know you. But they do know your reputation. Thus they fear you as they fear each other. Might not Pasha Wroning fear that the Rakers have hired Entreri to kill him? Or even within the individual guilds, might those vying for position before the coming event of Pasha Basadoni's death not fear that one of the others has coaxed Entreri back to assure personal ascension?'
Entreri nodded again but replied, 'Or is it not possible that Artemis Entreri has merely returned to his home?'
'Of course,' Dwahvel said. 'But until they all learn the truth of you, they will fear you, and the only way to learn the truth-'
'Kelp-enwalled,' the assassin finished. He started to thank Dwahvel for showing the courage of coming out to tell him this much, but he stopped short. He recognized that perhaps the halfling was only following orders, that perhaps this meeting was part of the surveying process.
'Watch well your back,' Dwahvel added, moving for the secret door. 'You understand that there are many who would like to claim the head of Entreri for their trophy wall.'
'What do you know?' the assassin asked, for it seemed obvious to him that Dwahvel wasn't speaking merely in generalities here.
'Before the kelp-enwalling order, my spies went out to learn what they may about the perceptions concerning your return,' she explained. 'They were asked more questions than they offered and often by young,
