The Last Threshold (Neverwinter #4)(102)

Effron knew many of the tricks and traps Draygo Quick had set up in his tower—many, but hardly all.

Sitting comfortably behind his crystal ball, having sent his coach out as a ruse, Draygo Quick alternately thought that he should punish the impudent young tiefling or thank him for delivering Drizzt so easily.

He watched the group progress across the checkered floor of the lowest floor’s main room, and noted that this, too, was so perfectly convenient for him, for Effron and Drizzt, the only two of the group Draygo Quick cared about, had separated themselves from the others, moving several strides ahead.

The wretched old warlock had worried that this would be a dangerous encounter. Drizzt, Dahlia, and Herzgo Alegni’s former champion, this Artemis Entreri, were all formidable, after all, and adding in a couple of former Cavus Dun bounty hunters made the powerful lord fear that he might lose many of his staff here, and perhaps a fair number of his precious pets, as well.

Though the outcome was never, in Draygo Quick’s mind, in doubt.

And now, with the group charging in recklessly, thinking him gone from the castle, considerably less so.

Draygo Quick focused on the floor ahead of Effron and Drizzt and timed his command word perfectly, magically calling out through the crystal ball to the enchanted floor. The panel beneath the pair dropped open.

With amazing agility and reaction, Drizzt leaped and twisted, and might have gotten clear, or at least to the edge of the pit, except that he paused to grab at Effron.

The two tumbled from sight, through the floor and down a long slide, and the springs lifted the trapped panel back into place almost immediately.

The trailing four invaders skidded to a stop.

On cue, the suits of armor lining the hall began to move, and from above, gargoyles took flight, circling down slowly, and from the balusters of the balcony railing came miniature dragons, uncoiling and taking flight.





There was nothing to hold onto to slow the descent along the smooth, twisting slide. Drizzt tried to dig his heels in, or to find some jag with his reaching fingers, but to no avail.

Effron tried to cast a spell, but his words were lost in grunts and groans as he and Drizzt tangled and tumbled in the absolute darkness.

The descent finally ended with the duo crashing into a small, three-walled landing.

“Are you all right?” Drizzt asked.

“We have to get out of here,” Effron replied. “Wraithform—”

His word was stolen by a cry of surprise as the floor fell out from under them once again. He and Drizzt dropped ten feet to land heavily on a floor of dirt and dry hay.

The darkness went away almost immediately. A low crackling sound overcame their groans, as the bars of their prison came alive with magical energy.

“By the gods, no,” Effron gasped, rolling to a sitting position, but no farther, for he had landed hard on his legs and hips and they would not support him.

“What is it?” Drizzt demanded. Less injured, the drow rushed forward and drew his blades, and even dared to reach out and tap one of those sparkling bars with Icingdeath, only to have the scimitar blown from his hand as he went flying backward and to the floor.

“We are caught,” Effron assured him. “New pets for Draygo Quick.”

“Use your wraithform, then!” Drizzt told him through chattering, gritted teeth, but Effron, still sitting, shook his head.

“None of my magic will work in this cage. We are caught.” He gave a helpless chuckle and added, “Like Guenhwyvar.”

Drizzt wasn’t listening, rushing around and inspecting every seam, every plank, every glowing bar of the magical cage. He shouted out for Entreri and the others, unwilling to admit defeat.

When he finally noted Effron again, the young tiefling was sitting on the floor, head down and despondent.

Drizzt didn’t know if that defeated posture reflected immaturity or reality.





“Beware your feet!” Afafrenfere yelled, an obvious warning since they had all just seen the abrupt departure of Drizzt and Effron.

The monk moved quickly, running along the seams in the floor, so that if another tile fell out, he’d be able to dive one way or the other. He met the nearest charging armored creature with a flying kick that rattled the bones of the house defender, an animated skeleton, and sent it flying backward and to the floor.

Afafrenfere landed nimbly and spun right back to his feet, his right arm flying across to take aside the stabbing sword of the next attacker, his left palm snapping forward to ring against the chest plate with stunning force.

In rushed the armored attacker, another skeleton, stubbornly, but Afafrenfere dived past it, ahead of the stabbing sword, and he came up powerfully right beside the monster, hooking his arm under the skeleton’s breast plate as he did and planting his foot firmly behind. Up and over went the armored skeleton, thrown into backward flight.

A third came charging in even as the first tried to stand once more, and again Afafrenfere was ready, executing a heavy double strike between its upraising arms. His goal was to shove the attacker back, to buy some room.

But this was no skeleton and it hardly budged, and those upraised arms did not reach out for Afafrenfere, but rather to reveal the monster’s primary weapon.

The medusa removed her helmet.





Artemis Entreri went into a spinning assault, stabbing and thrashing to drive the ground attackers back, while Dahlia, staying carefully within the assassin’s defensive perimeter, put her long staff to brilliant use, swatting the dragonettes and stabbing at the swooping gargoyles, each strike against the stone-like monsters filling Kozah’s Needle with lightning energy.