Филип Этанс - Shadows of Amn

"I could have taken them all, bitch," Bodhi told the Shadow Thief priestess. "I could have had all your assassins—your whole guild."

The vampire turned to Selarra but spoke to her thrall. "You take the priestess," she said. "I want the one with the knives."

Jaheira seemed especially wistful passing through the forest the elf patrol leader called Wealdath rather than Tethir. She seemed happy and sad at the same time, as if being there stirred that half of her that might have called this place home.

Yoshimo kept passing a hand to the hilt of his sword, and Abdel could see that he was ready to disappear into the dark forest any second. Why would these elves—or anyone—trust a Shadow Thief assassin?

They'd been brought directly from the gate by the elf patrol leader to an enormous tree. As tired as they all were, they were anxious to warn the queen of the dangerous forces still rallying against her. They were led through passages in the tree that might have been natural veins in the wood but for their size. Passing through a beaded curtain, they emerged into a surprisingly huge, tall-ceilinged chamber lit by patches of cold, obviously magical light.

The furnishings were spartan but well-crafted of wood and woven vines. The curved wall of the semicircular room was cut with delicate carvings of leaves sprouting from twisting vines. Against this backdrop stood a slim male elf in simple traveling leathers. At his belt was a sword that made the sellsword in Abdel practically drool. He'd only heard of them, but he was sure the weapon was a moonblade.

The elf smiled and motioned them to seats in the center of the room. Jaheira bowed deeply and said something in Elvish. She didn't look directly at the elf, who returned her bow with a nod of his head.

"We should use Common," the elf said, his accent very thick, "so as to not offend our visitors."

"As you wish, sire," Jaheira said. The five of them sat on deep-cushioned chairs arranged to face a simple wooden stool. The elf, mindful of the long blade at his waist, perched on the stool and raised an eyebrow.

"The queen is in danger," Jaheira said simply.

The elf smiled and said, "I am Elhan. And you are…?"

Jaheira, flustered, said, "Jaheira … a druid in the service of Mielikki."

"And the Harpers, of course," Elhan added for her.

Jaheira blushed and said, "I am not here on their behalf." She didn't question how this elf knew of her affiliation with the Harpers. Elf princes, apparently, just knew things like that.

"I am Yoshimo," the Kozakuran said, filling the uncomfortable gap as he so often did. "I am at your service.. sire."

"I'm Imoen," the girl said weakly. The trip through the Underdark and the woods seemed to have taken an unusually heavy toll on her. She seemed weak and tired.

"My name is Abdel," the sellsword said.

Elhan turned to him and nodded. "You, I've heard of. What brings the son of Bhaal to Wealdath?"

Abdel turned to Elhan and said, "Suldanessellar is in danger. A powerful necromancer, a human named Jon Irenicus is hoping to perform some ritual—"

"Indeed," Elhan interrupted. "Irenicus is known to us. He has … my sister—Ellesime—has had a … relationship with this human for quite some time. They are linked in a way that I must be honest and say I don't fully understand. Ellesime herself senses only apathy from Irenicus, when she can feel him through this link. She is refusing to believe that he means her harm or even that he is responsible for sealing off Suldanessellar."

"What do you mean 'sealing off'?" asked Jaheira.

"I mean just what I say," replied Elhan with a shrug. "We are no longer able to get into the Swanmay's Glade. Irenicus has somehow barred us from our home."

"What is there to do about this?" Yoshimo asked. "I imagine we must help you return to your city, so you can save your queen's life."

"We will," Jaheira said, scowling at the Kozakuran.

"Ellesime cannot be killed," Elhan said simply. "You'll forgive me for not explaining how this is so. I don't fear her death, but if Irenicus is immortal as well, he can harry my sister for a long time—centuries or more—and cause the gods only know what damage to the city, all of Wealdath, in the process."

"We're not entirely sure why we're here, sir," Abdel admitted. "All we know is that your fate and ours—" he nodded at Imoen— "are tied up with each other in some way connected with Irenicus."

Elhan lifted an eyebrow, curious, and Abdel said, "I am descended from the God of Murder, and I am not the only one. I have a sister, a half-sister who shares that blood. Irenicus means to use that blood to raise some sort of power—if not Bhaal himself then some essence, some avatar of Bhaal. It is this godlike force that Irenicus seems to desire for some unknown purpose."

Elhan smiled and nodded. "I think I can shed some light on all this for you, Abdel Adrian. I think our fates are bound together after all. I'm so glad you made it here. So very glad."

Bodhi awoke early, as she often did, and stayed in her casket knowing the sun hadn't completely set. As had been the case over that last dozen days or more, she awoke thinking of Abdel. The feel of his hands on her body, his tongue in her mouth, their most intimate embrace, lingered in her in the most delicious way. She would never use the word love, or even desire, but maybe, in whatever was left of the human part of her, she felt both those things and more.

There were so many things Abdel didn't know, but there were easily as many things about him that she had yet to discover. She hoped she would have a chance.

She stretched, and her elbow brushed past several loose pieces of cold metal. Irenicus had told her to keep these broken bits of some antique close to her. She could sense the magic in them and knew it had something to do with the ritual. Irenicus had told her that there was a good chance that Abdel would come to her looking for it. She was happy to keep it in case of just such an eventuality.

She whispered his name just to feel it on her tongue. The hiss of it didn't echo in the confined space. The air, reeking of the soil of her all-but-forgotten home, was too dead to allow for something as graceful as an echo.

"Love," she said aloud into the dead air of her coffin. The sound of it made her smile.

She touched herself and closed her eyes, knowing that that night she would kill all of her assassins in Irenicus's name. She no longer cared that her fledgling guild would never serve her—one way or another, the son of Bhaal would instead fill that role.

"Irenicus was responsible—Irenicus and Bodhi together—for the worst disaster ever to befall the city of Suldanessellar," Elhan explained.:

Abdel settled into his chair, happy to finally get some facts that he might use to make sense of all this mess, happy to feel calmer than he had in a long time. The tree chamber was described as a «camp» and "temporary" by the elves, but it looked permanent enough to Abdel. These elves carried their traditions with them everywhere.

"We didn't know what they were trying to do. None of us would ever have imagined they'd be that … I don't know. We didn't suspect," Elhan continued. "Many of the older, weaker citizens died in the initial waves of power that swept through the city. The Tree of Life … they attacked the Tree of Life itself."

Jaheira gasped and Elhan nodded at her.

"Ellesime—my sister, our queen," he continued, "nearly died as well. To endanger her, to endanger all of us, to endanger the Tree. It was more than we—any of us—could comprehend. All that, nearly the whole city gone, elves who'd gathered the wisdom of millennia blown away … for some petty gain … some personal gain."