Филип Этанс - Shadows of Amn

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 winning the other."

The light was blinding, and they weren't even out of the tunnel yet. Abdel blinked and looked over at Jaheira. Her eyes were red, and tears traced paths down her dusty, cave-grimed cheeks. Abdel assumed the tears were from the light streaming in from outside, but he knew it might be that she was crying with relief at finally getting out into fresh air. Abdel felt like crying himself.

"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 tunnel, all so relived to see an end to the maddening underground journey. Abdel didn't even care where they were.

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.

"Goram," Bodhi said, "Nevilla, Naris, and Kelvan, join us, please."

The priestess was the only one of the Shadow Thieves not to look surprised when four others stepped from behind crypts and large grave markers behind Bodhi. Naris, himself once a member of the Shadow Thieves, spun a gleaming, razor-sharp bardiche and giggled. Kelvan, also a former guild member, drew two short swords. Goram and Nevilla, Bodhi's vampiric thralls, hissed with bared fangs at the approaching assassins, all three of whom hesitated more than their training should have allowed. The one with the broken crossbow just stood there, confused.

"You're Shadow Thieves," the priestess reminded her people. Two of them spared her a glance, but all three came in faster.

The one closest to Bodhi was the one with the stubby, pointed weapon that the vampire quickly recognized as a sharpened wooden stake. So, they were ready for her. The assassin was fast for a human. Bodhi had to give him that, and even with a wooden stake, it took guts to charge a vampire. If Nevilla hadn't come up to Bodhi's side so quickly, she might have been in danger from the stake. Instead, she grabbed Nevilla roughly by the shoulder and pulled the thrall in front of her just as the assassin stabbed down with the stake. Nevilla apparently realized what was about to happen, because she let out a frightened shriek when the assassin corrected in mid-stab and went for Nevilla instead of Bodhi. He must have figured one vampire was as good as any.