My hand hit something solid, and I clutched at it.

  It was neither the ship nor the boat, but one of the two ropes meant for securing the smaller boat. It had come untied-how, I do not know, for sailors' knots never come undone when they aren't supposed to-and the line had dropped right beside me.

  The rope scoured my palm as I slid down it. But I held on with all my might, refusing to let go.

  The launch swayed dangerously, and I thought it might tumble from its position-if one knot could come untied, the other could as well, as could the rope dangling from the aft deck. After a few moments I stopped swinging so wildly, and slowly pulled myself up the rope and onto the launch, my hands burning the whole time.

  When I reached the launch, I realized my luck was even better than I had first thought. My plan had been to squeeze through one of the holes where the ropes tied the launch to the hull. Up close, I saw I could fit through the hole, but not with the rope threaded through the space. With a rope untied, one hole lay empty and I could pull myself through, bringing the rope with me. I tied it off, trying to duplicate the knot on the other rope. At last, the launch was secure enough, I was inside the hold of Sea Sprite, and no one was coming to investigate. I breathed a sigh of relief-breathed it into my aching hands, trying to soothe the pain-and moved some barrels to find a spot to settle in for the night.

  Chapter Three

  I spent the next two days exploring the space I had claimed for myself. When there weren't sailors in the hold, I roamed around, finding barrels of dried fruit and jerky and filching enough to eat, but only a little from each barrel so it wouldn't be noticed.I couldn't have picked a better place to stow away. I was far aft, away from the main hatch to the hold, and the containers were piled high. All the new cargo, mostly food, was stored near the bow of the ship. Back near the stern I found mostly trade goods, which wouldn't be unloaded until we reached a port, and with luck, not until I had safely made my getaway.

  The goods were exotic and interesting- a barrel of a rare black spice, ground into fine powder; boxes of an ivorylike substance carved into various shapes; and crate upon crate of salt.

  During those two days in port, I tried to turn my thoughts away from Perrault and what had become of him at the inn. But at night, he haunted my dreams. I tossed and turned in my makeshift bed, one nightmare after another startling me awake. I longed to go up on deck to count the stars like Perrault had taught me when I was six years old and couldn't sleep. It was the only way I knew to find peace, but I dared not leave the hold. And so I stayed, day and night, praying for time to pass quickly until the ship headed out to sea.

  At first the solitude was nearly unbearable, but then I found a single barrel of ceramic marbles, each about the size of the knuckle of my thumb. Those marbles became my only amusement. I rolled them around, watching them move with the sway of the ship. I juggled them, tossing three or even four into the air, catching each as it fell then tossing it up again as the next came down. I even played with some of the rats on the ship, trying to roll a marble into a rat before it saw what was coming and darted away. I never actually hit one, but the game kept my mind occupied.

  The third day, I awoke to much clamor from above, and to a great swaying of the ship. I darted to the rope holes, my only view to the outside world, and looked out to see Baldur's Gate receding into the distance.

  Behind the city, the sun rose looking larger than I had ever seen it. The sun seemed to cover the entire city, that huge city I had been so impressed with when first I looked upon it. I stared into that beautiful sunrise, but I couldn't help but see darkness beneath it. The city faded behind me, and with it faded Perrault.

  Down the Chionthar River we sailed, angling to port, to the south, almost as soon as we crossed the mouth of the river into the open ocean. The coast was in view, behind and to our left, for a good long way as we ran tight and parallel. As the sun moved to the west, we turned again, heading to the open ocean. I did nothing but watch the sea that day, not even thinking to play with the marbles and the rats.

  I stayed hidden all day, waiting until the crew had gone to their crowded bunks on the deck above the hold. When night fell, I crept stealthily to the top deck.

  I figured if anyone caught me out at sea, there was little they could do. Perhaps they would make me scrub pots in the galley, or swab the deck endlessly, or suffer at some other disgusting task. But they could not throw me off the ship-could they? Surely they wouldn't murder me. They were merchant sailors, not pirates.

  Silent as a shadow, I stepped out under a sky filled with stars. The gentle ocean breeze welcomed me from my prison, and the air, which had smelled salty even below decks, burned in my nostrils with the brine of the sea.

  Sailors were posted here and there, and though they weren't particularly attentive, I was careful to avoid them. I had decided that there was only one place to spend the night: the crow's nest.

  As I made my way to the railing, I reached under my shirt and gripped the bandolier binding my chest. In only a moment, I would be rid of the cursed stone once and for all. I would throw it into the ocean and never think of it again. But as I opened the pouch that hid the stone, I hesitated. All I saw was Perrault, his face stern but his eyes smiling. I saw him in my head, and I felt him in my heart. But I also felt the weight of the stone, the weight of my guilt. And it was more than I could bear.

  "Dangerous for a stowaway to be on deck, isn't it?" came a whispering voice.

  I nearly yelped aloud. Such a scream would have alerted the other sailors, so I stifled it. I quickly closed the pouch, rearranged my shirt, and turned to face my discoverer.

  He was hidden in shadow just beyond the mast, his form indistinct. All I could see were two points of burning lavender flame, the eyes of the elf, Drizzt Do'Urden.

  "What are they going to do to me?" I whispered. I tried to seem confident, defiant even, but somehow the words only sounded scared.

  "That depends," replied Drizzt, "on whether they catch you. But if they do, Captain Deudermont would be well within the law to throw you to the sharks."

  I stammered, trying in vain to answer, but nothing intelligible came out.

  The elf smiled. At least, his eyes brightened, so I assumed he was smiling, though I could not make out his facial features.

  "But he seems an honorable man to me," the elf continued, "and would more likely put you to work. But that depends on whether or not they catch you."

  "You aren't going to turn me in?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "I'm a passenger, same as you. Well, perhaps not quite, since my passage is paid. But I have neither need nor desire to give you away. I would ask one question of you, though. Why do you risk so much to come out on deck?"

  It was my turn to smile, in relief. "I can't see the stars from the hold." It wasn't a lie.

  Drizzt looked at me for a long moment then gave a slight nod. "The stars are worth such a risk, indeed."

  "Yes, sir, they are."

  "Then I shall leave you to them." He turned and walked away before I could reply.

  I made my way carefully, quietly, to the mainmast, looking over my shoulder, certain I would find the elf watching me. When I reached the simple ladder of metal pegs, I put my foot on the first rung and began to climb.

  The view was as incredible as I'd hoped it would be, a clear sky stretching infinitely in all directions. The stars twinkled and blinked, and their reflections sparkled on the sea, and I could not tell where the sky stopped and the ocean began.

  A cool breeze washed over my face and I took a deep breath, drinking in the salty smell of the sea. Perhaps it was something Drizzt had said, or perhaps it was just that spectacular view stretching before me, but the stone and Asbeel no longer weighed so heavily on my mind.

  I shouldn't risk tossing the stone here, I decided. The time wasn't right. It could be too easily found again. Instead I would hide aboard the ship and sail to the ends of Toril-or as far as Sea Sprite could take me, and when I could sail no farther, then I would drop the thing into the ocean. And I would start my life again.

  I wished I could spend the entire voyage in the crow's nest, but I knew that if I did, I would surely be discovered. And after what Drizzt had told me, I dared not take that chance.

  I stayed in the crow's nest the whole of the night, though, only climbing down when the eastern horizon began to glow with predawn light. The crew was stirring as I slipped by, but no one took notice of me and I reached my hiding spot undetected. I was soon dreaming again, seeing Perrault, but the dreams were pleasant and warm.

  I spent the next two days in a similar routine: sleeping during the day, and climbing to the crow's nest at night.

  On our fourth day out from Baldur's Gate, something woke me.

  It took me a long while to get my bearings, to realize what had stirred me from my sleep. I was still below, and no one had found me, but a great commotion took hold above as sailors rushed to and fro, shouting and yelling. Most of their words were lost to me, but one word, shouted over and over, told me everything.

  "Pirates!"

  Chapter Four

  My heart dropped. Pirates! If they took the ship, they would loot the hold, and my hiding spot would be compromised. If pirates took me, they would not be so lenient as the elf had been a few nights earlier. They would throw me to the sharks, or keelhaul me, or worse.I steadied myself. They would not take the ship, I thought, not with the elf and the giant aboard. And if they did, they would not take me easily. I would go down swinging.

  I drew my dagger-Perrault's dagger-and rolled it in my hand, feeling its balance, its magic, its power. I had seen Perrault use its magic before: a simple flick of the wrist would extend it into a fine sword. I knew how to wield such a blade, and though I had never been in real combat, I was confident of my ability to defeat any drunken pirate.

  If more than one pirate came, I would hold them off as long as I could. That corner of the hold was my kingdom, my little patch of the world, and it would not fall, no matter the foe. I would rather die than be taken by pirates.

  But my determination died as Sea Sprite tried to evade her pursuers. A battle at sea is not like a battle on land, where armies line up and charge at each other, and the victor is usually the army that can bring the greatest numbers to the battle most quickly. On the sea, the battle is won or lost by positioning, by eliminating threats one at a time. Sea Sprite was a sleek and speedy vessel. I hoped the ships chasing her were not.

  As Sea Sprite rolled, breaking through the swells, I thought about Captain Deudermont's tactics. The pirates would try to prevent his escape, while Captain Deudermont would try to get out of the pirates' range, so that he may face them individually. On the great expanse of the Sea of Swords, that probably meant hours of sailing before the first arrows were fired.

  I peered out the holes in the stern, but saw nothing but open sea. With a heavy sigh, I settled myself down for an agonizing wait. I began tossing marbles, trying to bounce them off the crates and back to my hand without moving my wrist. I had become quite good at that game, and the repetition put me into something of a trance.

  Without warning, I was thrown from my reverie.

  I say "thrown," because I found myself suddenly in midair. The ship cut a turn, the sharpest turn I ever imagined any ship cutting. Sea Sprite cut so sharply that her bow lifted clear out of the water and she pivoted on her stern. The sudden move sent all the barrels and crates in the hold-as well as me-tossing and tumbling, head over heels and end over end, to bump and bang against each other. A cask of water burst, a barrel of salt spilled open, and a box of carved ivory slammed into the wall barely an inch from my head. With a crushing, grinding noise, the ship settled down as quickly as it had lifted.

  Above decks, the hoots of victory and cries of rage turned to steel clashing against steel, shouts of pain, and the stomp of many, many boots across the deck. My blood raced, and I gripped my dagger, ready to stab any enemy who dared approach. But for the time being, no one entered the hold, and the waiting became unbearable.

  I decided to peek at the action through the holes in the stern. I stuck my head out just enough to see that we were entangled with a larger ship.

  In the distance, a ball of fire arced off the hull of another ship. As soon as the ball cut through the air, I realized what it was: burning tar, launched by a catapult and headed directly for Sea Sprite. Headed directly for the stern of the ship. Headed directly for… me!

  I ducked.

  I heard no crash of the missile against the hull, so I poked my head up to look. Directly below me, the water churned and I watched with great relief as the last lick of flames sank beneath the waves.

  Another ball of fire soared over the other ship, but it didn't arc toward us-it didn't arc at all. My breath caught in my throat. What was it? Was it a dragon? Was it some powerful spell? If a wizard had thrown such a fireball, that wizard must be as a god, for it seemed as though one of the stars had dropped out of the sky.

  Orange flames rent the cloudless blue. Sky and sea appeared as a painting, with a great fire roaring behind it, and someone tearing a jagged rip across that painting to reveal the flames.

  I soon realized that the flames had a shape. It was no fireball or dragon-it was a chariot of fire, horses and carriage ablaze!

  I lost my breath as the fiery thing cut sharply around Sea Sprite then soared toward the second pirate ship with purpose. The chariot plunged right through the pirates' mainsail, lighting the canvas on fire.

  Then a silver streak blazed toward the ship from the chariot. A woman on the back of the flying craft fired a bow. Another bolt of silver leapt out. The catapult strained to respond, but its shot barely lifted into the air then it dropped back onto the deck of the ship.

  I couldn't take my eyes off the spectacle. My heart raced as the chariot raced, and leaped as it cut graceful turns, and I nearly cried out when I spotted the driver-a red-bearded dwarf, hollering as if he were truly enjoying the wild ride. The chariot whipped around again, clipping the top of the pirate mainmast, lighting it like a candle. Then the flaming craft turned, moving toward us.

  Something dropped off the back of the chariot-the woman archer, I guessed, had abandoned her ride. I leaned out, trying to see where she had splashed down, and to see where the chariot was headed.

  I held my breath at the sight of a third pirate ship approaching. I prayed that the chariot would similarly cripple it.

  But the chariot did better than that. I heard a cry for Moradin, a dwarf god, and that crazy driver steered the chariot right onto the deck of the third pirate vessel. If all the wizards of Baldur's Gate had lined up side by side and hit the ship with a fireball, it would not have been as grand an explosion! The sight of it stole my breath, then the brightness of it stole my sight.

  I fell back and spent a moment blinking. As soon as I could see, I returned to my portal, not wanting to miss the incredible battle.

  But then a scaly green hand, its long fingers ending in sharp, filthy claws, hooked over the hole right in front of my face.

  Chapter Five

  I fell back and lashed out with my dagger, more on instinct than thought. My blade bit deep into the monster's hand, severing a finger. The hand withdrew, but didn't loosen its grip-it ripped a few planks out of the hull as it fell back.I stared out the now-massive hole in the hull, hoping to watch the beast splash into the sea below.

  But instead I saw it dangling from the launch by one hand. It would have been nine feet tall if it were standing, and its arms were long even for its body. It glared up at me, and its hideous pointed nose and crooked teeth would have been enough to unsettle the hardiest of soldiers-and I was no soldier! I looked into its murderous eyes and I felt as if my heart had stopped.

  My mind cried out to stab it, to attack, to kill it while it hung from the rowboat. But my body would not answer that call. All I could do was retreat a few steps as the thing ripped at the hull, pulling planks off with ease. When the hole was large enough, it swung itself through.

  A surge of fear snapped me from my stupor, and I took the only action I could think of.

  I turned and ran.

  I hoped my small size would help me. I was able to navigate through the tight spaces of the hold easily, and the hulking thing surely could not. I realized my error as the first few boxes went soaring over my head.

  "Come out, tasssty snack," the thing gurgled. Its voice was something between a roaring bear and a drowning cat, every bit as ugly as the monster itself.

  I picked my way through the familiar cask maze, toward the hatch to the deck, to anywhere the beast was not. But the ship's sharp turn and the crash had tossed the contents of the hold, and I could barely keep my footing.

  The troll tossed another barrel at my head, and it crashed among several casks of water, one of which burst open. Other crates and boxes tumbled about.

  One of the crates, full of dried and salted meat, landed directly on me, knocking me down and blasting the breath from my lungs. The troll ripped through the last stack of barrels right behind me.

  "Oh-ho! Cannot hide!" the brute shouted in delight. Then it stopped abruptly, and when I dared to glance back, it stood staring at me.

  It stared at my chest, where my shirt had been torn open. Stared at the sash holding the black stone.

  "Ohhh, the demon wantsss it, don't it be?" Its voice was a shrill whisper, like a nail pulled across glass. " 'E'll pay me well, won't 'e, then?"

  I snapped my wrist out, extending the magical blade, and swung as hard as I could. But the creature was quicker than I thought, and it stepped out of my reach.

  "Eet hasss bite, eet does!" snarled the troll in a strange half-laugh. "But so does I!"

  It lunged forward.

  I dodged to my left and cut a quick backhand with my saber, aiming to hit the creature in the ear, or at least force it back.