The Halfling’s Gem Read Online Free PDF Page A

as he might be vulnerable to the gem’s insistent tug. He glanced into the corner of the small cabin, where Regis sat huddled and thoroughly miserable.
    “I can now understand your desperation in stealing this jewel,” he said to the halfling.
    Regis snapped out of his own meditation, surprised that Entreri had spoken to him—the first time since they had boarded the boat back in Waterdeep.
    “And I know now why Pasha Pook is so desperate to get it back,” Entreri continued, as much to himself as to Regis.
    Regis cocked his head to watch the assassin. Could the ruby pendant take even Artemis Entreri into its hold? “Truly it is a beautiful gem,” he offered hopefully, not quite knowing how to handle this uncharacteristic empathy from the cold assassin.
    “Much more than a gemstone,” Entreri said absently, his eyes falling irresistibly back into the mystical swirl of the deceptive facets.
    Regis recognized the calm visage of the assassin, for he himself had worn such a look when he had first studied Pook’s wonderful pendant. He had been a successful thief then, living a fine life in Calimport. But the promises of that magical stone outweighed the comforts of the thieves’ guild. “Perhaps the pendant stole me,” he suggested on a sudden impulse.
    But he had underestimated the willpower of Entreri. The assassin snapped a cold look at him, with a smirk clearly revealing that he knew where Regis was leading.
    But the halfling, grabbing at whatever hope he could find, pressed on anyway. “The power of that pendant overcame me, Ithink. There could be no crime; I had little choice—”
    Entreri’s sharp laugh cut him short. “You are a thief, or you are weak,” he snarled. “Either way you shall find no mercy in my heart. Either way you deserve the wrath of Pook!” He snapped the pendant up into his hand from the end of its golden chain and dropped it into his pouch.
    Then he took out the other object, an onyx statuette intricately carved into the likeness of a panther. “Tell me of this,” he instructed Regis.
    Regis had wondered when Entreri would show some curiosity for the figurine. He had seen the assassin toying with it back at Garumn’s Gorge in Mithral Hall, teasing Drizzt from across the chasm. But until this moment, that was the last Regis had seen of Guenhwyvar, the magical panther.
    Regis shrugged helplessly.
    “I’ll not ask again,” Entreri threatened, and that icy certainty of doom, the inescapable aura of dread that all of Artemis Entreri’s victims came to know well, fell over Regis once more.
    “It is the drow’s,” Regis stammered. “Its name is Guen—” Regis caught the word in his mouth as Entreri’s free hand suddenly snapped out a jeweled dagger, readied for a throw.
    “Calling an ally?” Entreri asked wickedly. He dropped the statuette back into his pocket. “I know the beast’s name, halfling. And I assure you, by the time the cat arrived, you would be dead.”
    “You fear the cat?” Regis dared to ask.
    “I take no chances,” Entreri replied.
    “But will you call the panther yourself?” Regis pressed, looking for some way to change the balance of power. “A companion for your lonely roads?”
    Entreri’s laugh mocked the very thought “Companion? Why would I desire a companion, little fool? What gain could I hope to make?”
    “With numbers comes strength,” Regis argued.
    “Fool,” repeated Entreri. “That is where you err. In the streets, companions bring dependence and doom! Look at yourself, friend of the drow. What strength do you bring to Drizzt Do’Urden now? He rushes blindly to your aid, to fulfill his responsibility as your companion.” He spat the word out with obvious distaste. “To his ultimate demise!”
    Regis hung his head and could not answer. Entreri’s words rang true enough. His friends were coming into dangers they could not imagine, and all for his sake, all because of errors he had made before he had ever met them.
    Entreri