Exile (The Dark Elf Trilogy #2)(48)

Not for decades have I seen such a patch of the stuff. Quite a rare sight they are, you know.”

Drizzt, still at a loss, shook the tenseness out of his muscles and shrugged, then started forward. Belwar’s pick-hand hooked him under the arm, and the powerful deep gnome spun him back abruptly.

“Crimson spitters,” the burrow-warden said again, pointedly emphasizing the latter of the words. ” Magga cammara, dark elf, how did you get along through the years?”

Belwar turned to the side and slammed his hammer-hand into the wall of the archway, taking off a fair-sized chunk of stone. He scooped this up in the flat of his pick-hand and flipped it off to the side of the cavern. The stone hit the red-glowing fungus with a soft thud, then a burst of smoke and spores blasted into the air.

“Spit,” explained Belwar, “and choke you to death will the spore! If you plan to cross here, walk lightly, my brave, foolish friend.”

Drizzt scratched his unkempt white locks and considered the predicament. He had no desire to return the five miles down the tunnel, but neither did he plan to go plodding through this field of red death. He stood tall just inside the archway and looked around for some solution. Several stones, a possible walkway, rose up out of the baruchies, and beyond them lay a trail of clear stone about ten feet wide running perpendicular to the archway across the chasm.

“We can make it through,” he told Belwar. “There is a clear path.”

“There always is in a field of baruchies,” the burrow-warden replied under his breath. Drizzt’s keen ears caught the comment. “What do you mean?” he asked, springing agilely out to the first of the raised stones.

“A grubber is about,” the deep gnome explained. “Or has been.”

“A grubber?” Drizzt prudently hopped back to stand beside the burrow-warden.

“Big caterpillar,” Belwar explained. “Grubbers love baruchies. They are the only things the crimson spitters do not seem to bother.”

“How big?”

“How wide was the clear path?” Belwar asked him.

“Ten feet, perhaps,” Drizzt answered, hopping back out to the first stepping stone to view it again. Belwar considered the answer for a moment. “One pass for a big grubber, two for most,” Drizzt hopped back to the side of the burrow-warden again, giving a cautious look over his shoulder. “Big caterpillar,” he remarked.

“But with a little mouth,” Belwar explained. “Grubbers eat only moss and molds-and baruchies, if they can find them. Peaceful enough creatures, all in all.”

For the third time, Drizzt sprang out to the stone. “Is there anything else I should know before I continue?” he asked in exasperation.

Belwar shook his head.

Drizzt led the way across the stones, and soon the two companions stood in the middle of the ten-foot path. It traversed the cavern and ended with the entrance to a passage on either side. Drizzt pointed both ways, wondering which direction Belwar would prefer.

The deep gnome started to the left, then stopped abruptly and peered ahead. Drizzt understood Belwar’s hesitation, for he, too, felt the vibrations in the stone under his feet.

“Grubber,” said Belwar. “Stand quiet and watch, my friend. They are quite a sight.”

Drizzt smiled wide and crouched low, eager for the entertainment. When he heard a quick shuffle behind him, though, Drizzt began to suspect that something was out of sorts.

“Where.. ‘ Drizzt began to ask when he turned about and saw Belwar in full flight toward the other exit.

Drizzt stopped speaking abruptly when an explosion like the crash of a cave-in erupted from the other way, the way he had been watching.

“Quite a sight!” he heard Belwar call, and he couldn’t deny the truth of the deep gnome’s words when the grubber made its appearance. It was huge-bigger than the basilisk Drizzt had killed-and looked like a gigantic pale gray worm, except for the multitude of little feet pumping along beside its massive torso. Drizzt saw that Belwar had not lied, for the thing had no mouth to speak of, and no talons or other apparent weapons. But the giant was coming straight at Drizzt with a vengeance now, and Drizzt couldn’t get the image of a flattened dark elf, stretched from one end of the cavern to the other, out of his mind. He reached for his scimitars, then realized the absurdity of that plan. Where would he hit the thing to slow it? Throwing his hands helplessly out wide, Drizzt spun on his heel and fled after the departing burrow-warden.

The ground shook under Drizzt’s feet so violently that he wondered if he might topple to the side and be blasted by the baruchies. But then the tunnel entrance was just ahead and Drizzt could see a smaller side passage, too small for the grubber, just outside the baruchie cavern. He darted ahead the last few strides, then cut swiftly into the small tunnel, diving into a roll to break his momentum. Still, he ricocheted hard off the wall, then the grubber slammed in behind, smashing at the tunnel entrance and dropping pieces. f stone all about.

When the dust finally cleared, the grubber remained outside the passage, humming a low, growling moan and, every so often, banging its head against the stone. Belwar stood just a few feet farther in than Drizzt, the deep gnome’s arms crossed over his chest and a satisfied grin on his face.

“Peaceful enough?” Drizzt asked him, rising to his feet and shaking off the dust.

“They are indeed,” replied Belwar with a nod. “But grubbers do love their baruchies and have no mind to share the things!”