精灵血脉四部曲-第78部分

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But　she　released　the　dagger　immediately；　strengthened　her　resolve；　and　smoothed　her　drowlike　robes。　The　blade　had　helped　her；　without　it　she　would　be　crippled　and　lost；　if　not　dead。　It　was　a　weapon；　like　her　bow；　and；　though　its　brutal　tactics　assaulted　her　sensibilities；　Catti…brie　came；　in　that　moment；　to　accept　them。　She　carried　the　dagger　more　easily　as　the　days　turned　into　a　week；　and　then　two。

This　was　the　Underdark；　where　the　savage　survived。

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here　are　no　shadows　in　the　Underdark。

Only　after　years　on　the　surface　have　I　e　to　understand　the　significance　of　that　seemingly　minute　fact；　the　significance　of　the　contrast　between　lightness　and　darkness。　There　are　no　shadows　in　the　Underdark；　no　areas　of　mystery　where　only　the　imagination　can　go。　What　a　marvelous　thing　is　a　shadow！　I　have　seen　my　own　silhouette　walk　under　me　as　the　sun　rode　high；　I　have　seen　a　gopher　grow　to　the　size　of　a　large　bear；　the　light　low　behind　him；　spreading　his　ominous　silhouette　far　across　the　ground。　I　have　walked　through　the　woods　at　twilight；　my　gaze　alternating　between　the　lighter　areas　catching　the　last　rays　of　day；　leafy　green　slipping　to　gray；　and　those　darkening　patches；　those　areas　where　only　my　mind's　eye　could　go。　Might　a　monster　be　there？　An　ore　or　a　goblin？　Or　might　a　hidden　treasure；　as　magnificent　as　a　lost；　enchanted　sword　or　as　simple　as　a　fox's　den；　lay　within　the　sheltering　gloom？

When　I　walk　the　woods　at　twilight；　my　imagination　walks　beside　me；　heightens　my　senses；　opens　my　mind　to　any　possibilities。　But　there　are　no　shadows　in　the　Underdark；　and　there　is　no　room　for　fanciful　imagining。　All；　everywhere；　is　gripped　in　a　brooding；　continual；　predatory　hush　and　a　very　real；　ever　present　danger。

To　imagine　a　crouched　enemy；　or　a　hidden　treasure；　is　an　exercise　in　enjoyment；　a　conjured　state　of　alertness；　of　aliveness。　But　when　that　enemy　is　too　often　real　and　not　imagined；　when　every　jag　in　the　stone；　every　potential　hiding　place；　bees　a

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source　of　tension；　then　the　game　is　not　so　much　fun。

One　cannot　walk　the　corridors　of　the　Underdark　with　his　imagination　beside　him。　To　imagine　an　enemy　behind　one　stone　might　uxll　blind　a　person　to　the　very　real　enemy　behind　another。　To　slip　into　a　daydream　is　to　lose　that　edge　of　readiness；　and　in　the　Underdark；　to　be　unwary　is　to　die。

This　proved　the　most　difficult　transition　for　me　when　I　went　back　into　those　Hghtless　corridors。　I　had　to　again　bee　the　primal　hunter；　had　to　survive；　every　moment；　on　that　instinctual　edge；　a　state　of　nervous　energy　that　kept　my　muscles　always　taut；　always　ready　to　spring。　Every　step　of　the　way；　the　present　was　all　that　mattered；　the　search　for　potential　hiding　places　of　potential　enemies。　I　could　not　afford　to　imagine　those　enemies。　I　had　to　wait　for　them　and　watch　for　them；　react　to　any　movements。

There　are　no　shadows　in　the　Underdark。　There　is　no　room　for　imagination　in　the　Underdark。　It　is　a　place　for　alertness；　but　not　aliveness；　a　place　with　no　room　for　hopes　and　dreams。

桪rizzt　Do'Urden

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HUNGRY　GODDESS

ouncilor　Firble　of　Blingdenstone　normally　enjoyed　his　journeys　out　of　the　deep　gnome　city；　but　not　this　day。　The　little　gnome　stood　in　a　small　chamber；　but　its　dimensions　seemed　huge　to　him；　for　he　felt　quite　vulnerable。　He　kicked　his　hard　boots　about　the　rocks　on　the　otherwise　smooth　floor；　twiddled　his　stubby　fingers　behind　his　back；　and　every　so　often　ran　a　hand　over　his　almost…bald　head；　wiping　away　lines　of　sweat。

A　dozen　tunnels　ran　into　this　chamber；　and　Firble　took　some　fort　in　the　knowledge　that　two　score　svirfhebli　warriors　stood　ready　to　rush　to　his　aid；　including　several　shamans　with　enchanted　stones　that　could　summon　elemental　giants　from　the　plane　of　earth。　Firble　understood　the　drow　of　Menzoberranzan；　forty…five　miles　to　the　east　of　Blingdenstone；　better　than　any　of　his　kin；　though；　and　even　his　armed　escort's　presence　did　not　allow　him　to　relax。　The　gnome　councilor　knew　well　that　if　the　dark　elves　had　set　this　up　as　an　ambush；　then　all　the　gnomes　and　all　the　magic　of　Blingdenstone　might　not　be　enough。

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A　familiar　clicking　sounded　from　the　tunnel　directly　across　the　small　chamber　and；　a　moment　later；　in　swept　Jar…laxle；　the　extraordinary　drow　mercenary；　his　wide…brimmed　hat　festooned　with　a　giant　diatryma　feather；　his　vest　cut　high　to　reveal　rolling　lines　of　muscles　across　his　abdomen。　He　strode　before　the　gnome；　glanced　about　a　couple　of　times　to　take　in　the　whole　scene；　then　dipped　into　a　low　bow；　brushing　his　hat　across　the　floor　with　an　outstretched　hand。

〃My　greetings！〃　Jarlaxle　said　heartily　as　he　came　back　upright；　crooking　his　arm　above　him　so　that　the　hat　tucked　against　his　elbow。　A　snap　of　the　arm　sent　the　hat　into　a　short　spin；　to　land　perfectly　atop　the　swaggering　mercenary's　shaved　head。

〃High　soar　your　spirits　this　day；〃　Firble　remarked。

〃And　why　not？〃　the　drow　asked。　〃If　s　another　glorious　day　in　the　Underdark！　A　day　to　be　enjoyed。〃

Firble　did　not　seem　convinced；　but　he　was　amazed；　as　always；　by　the　conniving　draw's　mand　of　the　Svirfneblin　language。　Jarlaxle　spoke　the　tongue　as　easily　and　fluidly　as　any　of　Blingdenstone's　deep　gnome　inhabitants；　though　the　mercenary　used　the　sentence　structure　more　mon　to　the　draw　language　and　not　the　inverted　form　favored　by　many　of　the　gnomes。

〃Many　svirfneblin　mining　parties　have　been　assaulted；〃　Firble　said；　his　tone　verging　on　that　of　an　accusation。　〃Svirfneblin　parties　working　west　of　BHngdenstone。〃

Jarlaxle　smiled　coyly　and　held　his　hands　out　wide。　〃Ched　Nasad？〃　he　asked　innocently；　implicating　the　next　nearest　drow　city。

〃Menzoberranzan！〃　Firble　asserted。　Ched　Nasad　was　many　weeks　away。　〃One　dark　elf　wore　the　emblem　of　a　Menzoberranzan　house。〃

〃Rogue　parties；〃　Jarlaxle　reasoned。　〃Young　fighters　out　for　pleasure。〃

Firble's　thin　lips　almost　disappeared　with　his　ensuing　scowl。　Both　he　and　Jarlaxle　knew　better　than　to　think　that　the　raiding　drow　were　simple　young　rowdies。　The　attacks　had　been　coordinated　and　executed　perfectly；　and　many　svirfnebli　had　been　slain。

〃What　am　I　to　say？〃　Jarlaxle　asked　innocently。　〃I　am　but

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a　pawn　to　the　events　about　me。〃

Firble　snorted。

〃I　thank　you　for　your　confidence　in　my　position；〃　the　mercenary　said　without　missing　a　beat。　〃But；　really；　dear　Firble；　we　have　been　over　this　before。　The　events　are　quite　out　of　my　hands　this　time。〃

〃What　events？〃　Firble　demanded。　He　and　Jarlaxle　had　met　twice　before　over　the　last　two　months；　discussing　this　very　issue；　for　the　drow　activity　near　the　svirfneblin　city　had　increased　dramatically。　At　each　meeting　Jarlaxle　had　slyly　eluded　to　some　great　events；　but　never　had　he　e　out　and　actually　told　Firble　anything。

〃Have　we　e　to　banter　this　same　issue？〃　the　mercenary　asked　wearily。　〃Really；　dear　Firble；　I　grow　tired　of　your？

〃A　drow　we　have　captured；〃　Firble　interrupted；　crossing　his　short　but　burly　arms　over　his　chest；　as　though　that　news　should　cany　some　weight。

Jarlaxle's　expression　turned　incredulous　and　he　held　his　hands　out　wide　again；　as　if　to　ask；　〃So？〃

〃We　believe　this　drow　is　a　native　of　Menzoberranzan；〃　Firble　went　on。

〃A　female？〃　Jarlaxle　asked；　thinking　that　the　gnome；　apparently　viewing　his　information　as　vital；　must　be　referring　to　a　high　priestess。　The　mercenary　hadn't　heard　of　any　missing　high　priestesses　（except；　of　course；　Jerlys　Horlbar；　and　she　wasn't　really　missing）。

〃A　male；〃　Firble　replied；　and　again　the　mercenary's　expression　turned　dubious。

〃Then　execute　him；〃　the　pragmatic　Jarlaxle　reasoned。

Firble　tightened　his　arms　across　his　chest　and　began　tap…tapping　his　foot　impatiently　on　the　stone。

〃Really；　Firble；　do　you　believe　that　a　male　drow　prisoner　gives　your　city　some　bargaining　power？〃　the　mercenary　asked。　〃Do　you　expect　me　to　run　back　to　Menzoberranzan；　pleading　for　this　one　male？　Do　you　expect　that　the　ruling　matron　mothers　will　demand　that　all　activity　in　this　area　be　ceased　for　his　sake？〃

〃Then　you　admit　sanctioned　activity　in　this　area！〃　the　svirfneblin　retorted；　pointing　a　stubby　finger　Jarlaxle's　way

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and　thinking　he　had　caught　the　mercenary　in　a　lie。

〃I　speak　merely　hypothetically；〃　Jarlaxle　corrected。　〃I　was　granting　you　your　presumption　so　that　I　might　correctly　mirror　your　intentions。〃

〃My　intentions　you　do　not　know；　Jarlaxle；〃　Firble　assured。　It　was　clear　to　Jarlaxle；　though；　that　the　gnome　was　growing　agitated　by　the　mercenary's　cool　demeanor。　It　was　always　that　way　with　Jarlaxle。　Firble　met　with　the　drow　only　when　the　situation　was　critical　to　Blingdenstone；　and　often　his　meetings　cost　him　dearly　in　precious　gems　or　other　treasures。

〃Name　your　price；　then；〃　the　gnome　went　on。

〃My　price？〃

〃Imperiled　is　my　city；〃　Firble　said　sharply。　〃And　Jarlaxle　knows　why！〃

The　mercenary　did　not　respond。　He　merely　smiled　and　leaned　back　from　the　gnome。

〃Jarlaxle　knows；　too；　the　name　of　this　drow　we　have　taken；〃　Firble　went　on；　in　turn　trying　to　be　sly。　For　the　first　time；　the　mercenary　revealed；　albeit　briefly；　his　intrigue。

Firble　really　hadn't　wanted　to　take　the　conversation　this　far。　It　was　not　his　intent　to　reveal　the　〃prisoner's〃　identity。　Drizzt　Do'Urden　was；　after　all；　a　friend　of　Belwar　Dissen…gulp；　the　Most　Honored　Burrow　Warden。　Drizzt　had　never　proven　himself　an　enemy　of　Blingdenstone；　had　even　aided　the　svirfnebli　a　score　of　years　before；　when　he　first　had　passed　through　the　city。　And　by　all　accounts；　the　rogue　drow　had　helped　svirfnebli　again　on　his　return；　out　in　the　tunnels　against　his　drow　kin。

Still；　Firble's　first　loyalty　was　to　his　own　people　and　his　city；　and　if　giving　Drizzt's　name　to　Jarlaxle　might　aid　the　gnomes　in　their　current　predicament；　might　reveal　the　imposing　events　that　Jarlaxle　kept　hinting　at；　then；　to　Firble；　it　would　be　worth　the　price。

Jarlaxle　paused　for　a　long　while；　trying　to　figure　out　where　he　should　take　this　suddenly　meaningful　conversation。　He　figured　that　the　drow　was　some　rogue　male；　perhaps　a　former　member　of　Bregan　D'aerthe　presumed　lost　in　the　outer　runnels。　Or　maybe　the　gnomes　had　bagged　a　noble　from　one　of　the　higher…ranking　houses；　a　fine　prize　indeed。

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J