The Halfling’s Gem Read Online Free

felt the care of its crafting and the perfection of its balance. A single, star-cut blue sapphire glittered in its pommel.
    “Its name is Twinkle,” Malchor said. “Forged by the elves of a past age.”
    “Twinkle,” echoed Drizzt. Instantly a bluish light limned the weapon’s blade. Drizzt felt a sudden surge within it, and somehow sensed a finer edge to its cut. He swung it a few times, trailing blue light with each motion. How easily it arced through the air; how easily it would cut down a foe! Drizzt slid it reverently into his empty scabbard.
    “It was forged in the magic of the powers that all the surfaceelves hold dear,” said Malchor. “Of the stars and the moon and the mysteries of their souls. You deserve it, Drizzt Do’Urden, and it will serve you well.”
    Drizzt could not answer the tribute, but Wulfgar, touched by the honor Malchor had paid to his oft-maligned friend, spoke for him. “Our thanks to you, Malchor Harpell,” he said, biting back the cynicism that had dominated his actions of late. He bowed low.
    “Keep to your heart, Wulfgar, son of Beornegar,” Malchor answered him. “Pride can be a useful tool, or it can close your eyes to the truths about you. Go now and take your sleep. I shall awaken you early and set you back along your road.”

    Drizzt sat up in his bed and watched his friend after Wulfgar had settled into sleep. Drizzt was concerned for Wulfgar, so far from the empty tundra that had ever been his home. In their quest for Mithral Hall, they had trudged halfway across the northland, fighting every mile of the way. And in finding their goal, their trials had only begun, for they had then battled their way through the ancient dwarven complex. Wulfgar had lost his mentor there, and Drizzt his dearest friend, and truly they had dragged themselves back to the village of Longsaddle in need of a long rest.
    But reality had allowed no breaks. Entreri had Regis in his clutches, and Drizzt and Wulfgar were their halfling friend’s only hope. In Longsaddle, they had come to the end of one road but had found the beginning of an even longer one.
    Drizzt could deal with his own weariness, but Wulfgar seemed cloaked in gloom, always running on the edge of danger. He was a young man out of Icewind Dale—the land that hadbeen his only home—for the first time in his life. Now that sheltered strip of tundra, where the eternal wind blew, was far to the north.
    But Calimport was much farther still, to the south.
    Drizzt lay back on his pillow, reminding himself that Wulfgar had chosen to come along. Drizzt couldn’t have stopped him, even if he had tried.
    The drow closed his eyes. The best thing that he could do, for himself and for Wulfgar, was to sleep and be ready for whatever the next dawn would bring.

    Malchor’s student awakened them—silently—a few hours later and led them to the dining room, where the wizard waited. A fine breakfast was brought out before them.
    “Your course is south, by my cousin’s words,” Malchor said to them. “Chasing a man who holds your friend, this halfling, Regis, captive.”
    “His name is Entreri,” Drizzt replied, “and we will find him a hard catch, by my measure of him. He flies for Calimport.”
    “Harder still,” Wulfgar added, “we had him placed on the road.” He explained to Malchor, though Drizzt knew the words to be aimed at him, “Now we shall have to hope that he did not turn from its course.”
    “There was no secret to his path,” argued Drizzt. “He made for Waterdeep, on the coast. He may have passed by there already.”
    “Then he is out to sea,” reasoned Malchor.
    Wulfgar nearly choked on his food. He hadn’t even considered that possibility.
    “That is my fear,” said Drizzt. “And I had thought to do the same.”
    “It is a dangerous and costly course,” said MaIchor. “The pirates gather for the last runs to the south as the summer draws to an end, and if one has not made the proper arrangements …” He