Shadows of Amn

Chapter Eighteen

They fell from three or four feet in the air onto the cold, rough stone floor of the cavern. When Abdel hit, the air was pushed from his lungs and explosions of purple and red blazed behind his eyelids. He immediately tried to push himself up and roll over, but all he could manage was one quick, dull glance. He saw one of the enormous feet of the silver dragon Adalon and heard a rumbling voice say, "They're safe," before he lost consciousness.

Jaheira shook him awake, and he'd never been happier to see anyone. He sat up, his head spi

"How long?" he asked the druid.

Jaheira shrugged and stood up, turning to face the dragon towering overhead like a living cathedral of liquid silver. The dragon was crying. Abdel's heart swelled from the sound of it, and he knew, all of a sudden and all at once, he knew. Set up or not, manipulation or not, deception or not, there was a time to do the right thing. There was a time to suffer the petty evils of those who came in and out of his life, and there was a time to put an end to all of it—not just for a moment or two but for a lifetime. He'd wanted to rescue Imoen and Jaheira, and he had, but there was more to do. There was Irenicus, and though he didn't understand the evil this man sought to do, he knew it was up to him, one way or another, to stop it.

He looked to one side and saw Imoen, her arms wrapped around herself, sitting against a stalagmite, openly weeping. Jaheira sat down where she stood too, looking up at the massive claw of the dragon hovering over the cart, hovering over its brood. A talon as big as two men came down slowly and caressed the top of one of the eggs with a touch so gentle Abdel couldn't have believed a human could manage it, much less something the size of a decent keep.

Abdel looked away and saw Yoshimo.

The Kozakuran was staring daggers into the big sellsword, not the least moved—barely even aware—of the dragon's superhuman joy.

"That was foolish," Yoshimo said to Abdel, his voice gruff and low. "That was a foolish thing to do … for what gain?"

Jaheira turned to look at Yoshimo, and Abdel stood up slowly, reaching for his sword. Yoshimo drew his own blade and faced the son of Bhaal.

"For Mielikki's sake, you idiot," Jaheira shouted at Yoshimo. "Do you have any understanding of where you are and what has been avoided?"

"What has been avoided?" Yoshimo sneered. "Do you have any idea, druid, what that gate represented? What power that thing. . You weren't supposed to be so … active."

"We were supposed to be good little pawns, is that it?" Abdel asked, surprised by how little anger he felt toward the Kozakuran.

Yoshimo sighed, spared the dragon a glance, and sheathed his sword. "It isn't over yet."

"She was going to kill you," Imoen said suddenly, her voice awash with pain. "The vampire was going to kill you the minute we were sent on our way."

"To what end?" Yoshimo asked her, his eyes betraying his acceptance of what she'd said.

"To what end would she keep you alive?" Jaheira answered for Imoen. "Out of the kindness of her heart? Out of gratitude? She eats people like you … eats their blood anyway."

Yoshimo's face split with a wholly inappropriate grin, and he barked out a single tortured laugh. "I will not make any sad attempt too argue, young druid."

Abdel sheathed his sword and looked over to see the dragon carefully lifting her eggs from the crumbling cart.

"Yoshimo," Abdel said, "under any other circumstance I'd just kill you now and get it over with, but I've been.. thinking. You can come with us. You can have a chance to …"

"Redeem yourself," Jaheira provided with a smile.

Abdel nodded and said, "Or I will kill you. Believe me that I will kill you."

Yoshimo bowed deeply and said, "I will trust the son of the God of Murder when he gives me his word on that count, my friend, but I am the least of your still considerable worries. You will not be where Irenicus expects you to be, but you are far from safe. Suldanessellar is far from safe. You're forgetting the ritual. You're forgetting what's coursing through your veins and your half sister's. Next time the lovely druid here may not be so lucky as to avoid the things you've both become."

Abdel let a long breath pass out through his nose, then he said, "Yes, I'll need to speak with Mr. Irenicus about that."

"So will I," Imoen whispered.

"You will both have your chances," the dragon said, her voice loud but gentle in the echoing confines of the cavern. "I will set you on the path that leads up, up to the edge of the forest of Tethir. Find an elf named Elhan, and tell him your tale. You have two battles ahead: one for Suldanessellar and one for your souls. I doubt you can win one without wi

The light was blinding, and they weren't even out of the tu

"The dragon was as good as her word," Yoshimo said.

Abdel was almost startled by the sound of the assassin's voice. They were all so quiet from the moment they saw the end of the tu

Bring your people to Suldanessellar, Jon Irenicus said into Bodhi's mind, and be prepared to kill them all.

She was just about to reply when a crossbow bolt punched through the supple, pale flesh of her bare mid-section and pushed violently out the other side. The vampire, uninjured despite the momentary mess, looked up to see a group of Shadow Thieves emerge from the darkness behind a large marble mausoleum. In the walled Grave District of Athkatla, the night was overcast and dark, but Bodhi's undead eyesight saw the five assassins clearly enough. One of them was an older woman she'd heard some of her own people talk about. A priestess of Xvim, this one was, named Neela.

She had heard that Neela was dead, but Bodhi had been dead briefly herself once. The priestess had brought only four others with her, a woman and three men in the all-too-familiar black garb of the Shadow Thieves. Bodhi allowed herself a smile at how silly and yet appropriate they looked here, in a necropolis at night.

"Sheeta. ." Bodhi said, nodding in the direction of the assassin now furiously winding his spent crossbow as his fellows advanced. The sound of Bodhi pulling the crossbow bolt out through her back was almost lost under the whir of the little orc woman's sling.

"Just take them all," the priestess hissed, her quiet voice carrying clearly in the still night air.

The stone left Sheeta's sling, and before the assassins could advance more than half a step, it impacted hard against the top of the nearly cocked crossbow. The string pinged off, sent the quarrel dropping impotently to the dry, stubby grass. The assassin jerked his hand away and hissed in pain, then his eyes bulged as he watched his crossbow slowly fall into pieces on the ground at his feet. Bodhi smiled, knowing Sheeta hadn't hit the crossbow that hard, she just knew where to hit it. Bodhi liked this one.

The priestess hung back, but the three other assassins continued forward. One pulled a short, blunt, pointed thing from under his black tunic. The woman drew two slim throwing knives, and the other man let his scimitar shriek for effect as he slid it slowly out of its scabbard.