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"Give
Me The Sword."
Drizzt waved
Twinkle's hilt before the stunned woman. "It is right that we are
joined."
Catti-brie
clutched Khazid'hea defensively. She closed her eyes then, and seemed to
sway, and Drizzt got the impression she was communicating with the
blade, hearing its feelings.
When she
opened her eyes once more, Drizzt's free hand moved for the sword, and,
to the drow's surprise and satisfaction, the sword tip came up suddenly,
nicking his hand and forcing him back.
"The sword
does not want ye!" Catti-brie practically growled.
"You would
strike me?" Drizzt asked, and his question calmed the young woman.
"Just a
reaction," she stammered, trying to apologize.
Just a
reaction, Drizzt silently echoed, but exactly the reaction he had hoped
to see. The sword was willing to defend her right to wield it; the sword
had rejected him in light of its rightful owner.
In the blink
of an eye, Drizzt flipped Twinkle over and replaced it on his belt. His
smile clued Catti-brie to the truth of the encounter.
"A test,"
she said. "Ye just gived me a test!"
"It was
necessary."
"Ye never
had any mind to take Khazid'hea," the woman went on, her volume rising
with her ire. "Even if I'd taken yer offer . . .
"I would
have taken the sword," Drizzt answered honestly. "And I would have
placed it in display in a secure place in the Hall of Dumathoin."
"And ye
would have taken back Twinkle," Catti-brie huffed. "Ye lyin' drow!"
Drizzt
considered the words, then shrugged and nodded his agreement with the
reasoning.
Catti-brie
gave and impertinent pout and tossed her head, which sent her auburn
mane flying over her shoulder. "The sword just knows now that I'm the
better fighter," she said, sounding sincere.
Drizzt
laughed aloud.
"Draw yer
blades, then!" Catti-brie huffed, falling back in a ready posture. "Let
me show ye what me and me sword can do!"
Drizzt's
smile was wide as his scimitars came into his hands.
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