Homeland (The Legend of Drizzt #1)(97)

A smile spread over Masoj’s face. The odds had so quickly changed.

“House Hun’ett cares not at all for House DeVir,” Drizzt replied, still composed in the face of this new development. “I have learned enough of the ways of our people to know that the fate of one house is not the concern of another.”

“But it is my concern!” Alton cried, and he threw back the cowl of his hood, revealing the hideous face, scarred by acid for the sake of a disguise. “I am Alton DeVir, lone survivor of House DeVir! House Do’Urden will die for its crimes against my family, starting with you.”

“I was not even born when the battle took place,” Drizzt protested.

“Of little consequence!” Alton snarled.

“You are a Do’Urden, a filthy Do’Urden. That is all that matters,” Masoj tossed the onyx figurine to the ground. “Guenhwyvar!” he commanded. “Be gone!”

The cat looked over its shoulder to Drizzt, who nodded his approval. “Be gone!” Masoj cried again. “I am your master! You cannot disobey me!”

“You do not own the cat,” Drizzt said calmly.

“Who does, then?” Masoj snapped. “You?”

“Guenhwyvar,” Drizzt replied. “Only Guenhwyvar. I would think that a wizard would have a better understanding of the magic around him.”

With a low growl that might have been a mocking laugh, Guenhwyvar loped across the stone to the figurine and dissipated into smoky nothingness.

The cat walked down the length of the planar tunnel, toward its home in the Astral Plane. Ever before had Guenhwyvar been anxious to make this journey, to escape the foul commands of its drow masters. This time, though, the cat hesitated with every stride, looking back over its shoulder to the dot of darkness that was Menzoberranzan.

“Will you deal?” Drizzt offered.

“You are in no position to bargain,” Alton laughed, drawing out the slender wand that Matron SiNafay had given him.

Masoj cut him short. “Wait,” he said. “Perhaps Drizzt will prove valuable to our struggle against House Do’Urden,” He eyed the young warrior directly. “You will betray your family?”

“Hardly,” Drizzt snickered. “As I have already said to you, I care little for the coming conflict. Let House Hun’ett and House Do’Urden both be damned, as surely they will! My concerns are personal.”

“You must have something to offer us in exchange for your gain,” Masoj explained. “Otherwise, what bargain can you hope to make?”

“I do have something to give to you in return,” Drizzt replied, his voice calm, “your lives,” Masoj and Alton looked to each other and laughed aloud, but there was a trace of nervousness in their chuckles.

“Give me the figurine, Masoj.” Drizzt continued, undaunted. “Guenhwyvar never belonged to you and will serve you no more.”

Masoj stopped laughing.

“In return,” Drizzt went on before the wizard could reply, “I will leave House Do’Urden and not take part in the battle.”

“Corpses do not fight,” Alton sneered.

“I will take another Do’Urden with me,” Drizzt spat at him. “A weapon master. Surely House Hun’ett will have gained an advantage if both Drizzt and Zaknafein-”

“Silence!” Masoj screamed. “The cat is mine! I do not need any bargains from a pitiful Do’Urden! You are dead, fool, and House Do’Urden’s weapon master will follow you to your grave!”

“Guenhwyvar is free!” Drizzt growled. The scimitars came out in Drizzt’s hands. He had never really fought a wizard before, let alone two, but he remembered vividly from past encounters the sting of their spells. Masoj had already begun to cast, but of more concern was Alton, out of quick reach and pointing that slender wand.

Before Drizzt ever decided his course of action, the issue was settled for him. A cloud of smoke engulfed Masoj and he fell back, his spell disrupted with the shock. Guenhwyvar was back.

Alton was out of Drizzt’s reach. Drizzt could not hope to get to the wizard before the wand went off, but to Guenhwyvar’s streamlined feline muscles, the distance was not so great. Hind legs stamped a footing and snapped, launching the hunting panther through the air.

Alton brought the wand to bear on this new nemesis in time and released a mighty bolt, scorching Guenhwyvar’s chest. Greater strength than a single bolt, though, would be needed to deter the ferocious panther. Stunned but still fighting, Guenhwyvar slammed into the faceless wizard, dropping him off the back side of the stalagmite mound. The lightning bolt’s flash stunned Drizzt as well, but he continued to pursue Masoj and could only hope that Guenhwyvar had survived. He rushed around the base of the other stalagmite mound and came face-to-face with Masoj, once again in the act of spellcasting. Drizzt didn’t slow; he ducked his head and barreled into his opponent, his scimitars leading the way.

He slipped right through his opponent-right through the image of his opponent!

Drizzt crashed heavily into the stone and rolled aside, trying to escape the magical attack he knew was coming. This time, Masoj, standing fully thirty feet behind the projection of his image, was taking no chances with a miss. He launched a volley of magical missiles of energy that veered unerringly to intercept the dodging fighter. They slammed into Drizzt, jolting him, bruising him under his skin.