The conflict between the Underdark and the Mithral Hall comes to a head in the third book of The Legacy of the Drow series and the ninth book in the greater Legend of Drizzt. While Mithral Hall teems with whispers of the war to come, chaos erupts both above and below ground. On the surface of Faerûn, the first signs of the Time of Troubles make themselves known, forcing deities to assume their mortal forms. Beneath them in the Underdark, only one ancient house of the drow retains its arcane power, and Lolth has handed the reins of leadership over to the demon Errtu. But this turmoil cannot keep the drow from rising up from the black depths of the Underdark to battle the heroes of Mithral Hall, Drizzt Do’Urden and Bruenor Battlehammer. These warriors won’t go down without a fight—but they will have to make their stand without Wulfgar and Catti-brie. Siege of Darkness is the third book in the Legacy of the Drow series and the ninth book in the Legend of Drizzt series. R. A. Salvatore 's books have sold more than thirty-five million copies, have landed on many bestseller lists, and have been translated into numerous foreign languages. When he isn't writing, Bob, his wife Diane and their Japanese Chin Spaniels Dexter and Pikel bounce coast-to-coast to see their grandchildren. Bob hits the gym and coaches/plays on Clan Battlehammer, his softball team that includes most of his family. His gaming group still meets on Sundays to play DND or DemonWars or whatever the Sadist... err, Game Master, decides. 1 Diplomacy Her thick auburn hair bouncing below her shoulders, Catti-­brie worked furiously to keep the drow’s whirling scimitars at bay. She was a solidly built woman, a hundred and thirty pounds of muscles finely toned from living her life with Bruenor’s dwarven clan. Catti-­brie was no stranger to the forge or the sledge. Or the sword, and this new blade, its white-­metal pommel sculpted in the likeness of a unicorn’s head, was by far the most balanced weapon she had ever swung. Still, Catti-­brie was hard-pressed, indeed, overmatched, by her opponent this day. Few in the Realms could match blades with Drizzt Do’Urden, the drow ranger. He was no larger than Catti-­brie, a few pounds heavier, perhaps, with his tight-­muscled frame. His white hair hung as low as Catti-­brie’s mane and was equally thick, and his ebony skin glistened with streaks of sweat, a testament to the young woman’s prowess. Drizzt’s two scimitars crossed in front of him—­one of them glowing a fierce blue even through the protective padding that covered it—­then went back out wide, inviting Catti-­brie to thrust straight between. She knew better than to make the attempt. Drizzt was too quick and could strike her blade near its tip with one scimitar, while the other alternately parried low, batting the opposite way near the hilt. With a single step diagonally to the side, following his closer-­parrying blade, Drizzt would have her beaten. Catti-­brie stepped back instead and presented her sword in front of her. Her deep blue eyes peeked out around the blade, which had been thickened with heavy material, and she locked stares with the drow’s lavender orbs. “An opportunity missed?” Drizzt teased. “A trap avoided,” Catti-­brie was quick to reply. Drizzt came ahead in a rush, his blades crossing, going wide, and cutting across, one high and one low. Catti-­brie dropped her left foot behind her and fell into a crouch, turning her sword to parry the low-­rushing blade, dipping her head to avoid the high. She needn’t have bothered, for the cross came too soon, before Drizzt’s feet had caught up to the move, and both his scimitars swished through the air, short of the mark. Catti-­brie didn’t miss the opening, and darted ahead, sword thrusting. Back snapped Drizzt’s blades, impossibly fast, slamming the sword on both its sides. But Drizzt’s feet weren’t positioned correctly for him to follow the move, to go diagonally ahead and take advantage of Catti-­brie’s turned sword. The young woman went ahead and to the side instead, sliding her weapon free of the clinch and executing the real attack, the slash at Drizzt’s hip. Drizzt’s backhand caught her short, drove her sword harmlessly high. They broke apart again, eyeing each other, Catti-­brie wearing a sly smile. In all their months of training, she had never come so close to scoring a hit on the agile and skilled drow. Drizzt’s expression stole her glory, though, and the drow dipped the tips of his scimitars toward the floor, shaking his head in frustration. “The bracers?” Catti-­brie asked, referring to the magical wrist bands, wide pieces of black material lined with gleaming mithral rings. Drizzt had taken them from Dantrag Baenre, the deposed weapons master of Menzoberranzan’s First House, after defeating Dantrag in mortal combat. Rumors said those marvelous bracers allowed Dantrag’s hands to move incredibly fast, giving him the advantage in combat.