She huffed a deep breath to steady herself and took a bead on a sailor, standing mouth agape, not even realizing that he was about to die.

There was another way.

Out of the corner of her eye, Catti-brie spotted a better target. She swung the bow toward the back of the ship and sent a silver arrow streaking down. It blasted into the arm of the catapult, cracking the wood, the arrow’s magical energy scorching a black hole as the silver shaft ripped through.

“Taste me flames!” Bruenor cried, steering the chariot downward. The wild dwarf drove his flaming horses straight through the mainsail, leaving a tattered rag in his wake.

And Catti-brie’s aim was perfect; again and again the silver arrows whistled into the catapult. As the chariot rushed past a second time, the ships gunners tried to respond with a ball of burning pitch, but the catapult’s wooden arm had taken too much damage to retain any strength, and the ball of pitch lobbed weakly, a few feet up and a few feet out.

And dropped onto the deck of its own ship!

“One more pass!” Bruenor growled, looking back over his shoulder at the fires now roaring on the mast and the deck.

But Catti-brie’s eyes were forward, to where the Sea Sprite had just crashed onto one vessel, and where the second pirate ship would soon join the fray. “No time!” she yelled. “They be needin’ us up ahead!”

Steel rang against steel as the crew of the Sea Sprite locked against the pirates. One rogue, seeing Wulfgar launch the war hammer, crossed over to the Sea Sprite and made for the unarmed barbarian, thinking him easy prey. He rushed in, thrusting his sword ahead.

Wulfgar easily sidestepped the blow, caught the pirate by the wrist, and slapped his other hand into the man’s crotch. Changing the pirate’s direction slightly but not breaking his momentum, Wulfgar hoisted him into the air and heaved him over the back rail of the Sea Sprite. Two other pirates, having the same initial response to the unarmed barbarian as their unfortunate comrade, stopped in their tracks and sought out better armed, but less dangerous, opponents.

Then Aegis-fang magically returned to Wulfgar’s waiting grasp, and it was his turn to charge.

Three of Deudermont’s crew, trying to cross over, were cut down on the central boarding plank, and now the pirates came rushing back across the opening to flood the Sea Sprite’s deck.

Drizzt Do’Urden stemmed the tide. Scimitars in hand—Twinkle glowing an angry blue light—the elf sprang lightly onto the wide boarding plank.

The group of pirates, seeing only a single, slender enemy barring the way, expected to bowl right through.

Their momentum slowed considerably when the first rank of three stumbled down in a whirring blur of blades, grasping at slit throats and bellies.

Deudermont and the helmsman, rushing to support Drizzt, slowed and watched the display. Twinkle and its companion scimitar rose and dipped with blinding speed and deadly accuracy. Another pirate went down, and yet another had his sword struck from his hand, so he dove into the water to escape the terrible elven warrior.

The remaining five pirates froze as if paralyzed, their mouths hanging open in silent screams of terror.

Deudermont and the helmsman also jumped back in surprise and confusion, for with Drizzt absorbed in the concentration of battle, the magical mask had played a trick of its own. It had slipped from the drow’s face, revealing his dark heritage to all around.

“Even if ye flame the sails, the ship’ll get in,” Catti-brie observed, noting the short distance between the remaining pirate ship and the tangled ships at the entrance to the channel.

“The sails?” Bruenor laughed. “Suren I mean to get more than that!”

Catti-brie stood back from the dwarf, digesting his meaning. “Ye’re daft!” She gawked as Bruenor brought the chariot down to deck level.

“Bah! I’ll stop the dogs! Hang on, girl!”

“The demons, I will!” Catti-brie shouted back. She patted Bruenor on the head and went with an alternate plan, dropping from the back of the chariot and into the water.

“Smart girl,” Bruenor chuckled, watching her splash safely. Then his eyes went back to the pirates. The crew at the rear of the ship had seen him coming and were diving every which way to get clear.

Pinochet, at the front of the ship, looked back at the unexpected commotion just as Bruenor crashed in.

“Moradin!”

The dwarf’s war cry resounded to the decks of the Sea Sprite and the third pirate vessel, above all the din of battle. Pirates and sailors alike on the embattled ships glanced back at the explosion on Pinochet’s flagship, and Pinochet’s crew answered Bruenor’s cry with one of terror.

Wulfgar paused at the plea to the dwarven god, remembering a dear friend who used to shout such names at his enemies.

Drizzt only smiled.

As the chariot crashed to the deck, Bruenor rolled off the back and Alustriel’s dweomer came apart, transforming the chariot into a rolling ball of destruction. Flames swept across the deck, licked at the masts, and caught the bottoms of the sails.

Bruenor regained his feet, his mithril axe poised in one hand and shining golden shield strapped across his other. But no one cared to challenge him at that moment. Those pirates who had escaped the initial devastation were concerned only with escape.

Bruenor spat at them and shrugged. And then, to the amazement of those few who saw him, the crazy dwarf walked straight into the flames, heading forward to see if any of the pirates up front wanted to play.

Pinochet knew at once that his ship was lost. Not the first time, and probably not the last, he consoled himself as he calmly motioned his closest officer to help him loose a small rowboat. Two of his other crewmen had the same idea and were already untying the little boat when Pinochet got there.

But in this disaster, it was every man for himself, and Pinochet stabbed one of them in the back and chased the other away.

Bruenor emerged, unbothered by the flames, to find the front of the ship nearly deserted. He grinned happily when he saw the little boat, and the pirate captain, touch down in the water. The other pirate was bent over the rail, untying the last of the lines.

And as the pirate hoisted one leg over the rail, Bruenor helped him along, putting a booted foot into his rear and launching him clear of the rail, and of the little rowboat.

“Turn yer back, will ye?” Bruenor grunted at the pirate captain as the dwarf dropped heavily into the rowboat. “I’ve a girl to pick out of the water!”

Pinochet gingerly slid his sword out of its sheath and peeked back over his shoulder.

“Will ye?” Bruenor asked again.

Pinochet swung about, chopping down viciously at the dwarf.

“Ye could’ve just said no,” Bruenor taunted, blocking the blow with his shield and launching a counter at the man’s knees.

Of all the disasters that had befallen the pirates that day, none horrified them more than when Wulfgar went on the attack. He had no need for a boarding plank; the mighty barbarian leaped the gap between the ships. He drove into the pirate ranks, scattering rogues with powerful sweeps of his war hammer.

From the central plank, Drizzt watched the spectacle. The drow had not noticed that his mask had slipped, and he wouldn’t have had time to do anything about it anyway. Meaning to join his friend, he rushed the five remaining pirates on the plank. They parted willingly, preferring the water below to the killing blades of a drow elf.