Shadows of Amn

Chapter Twenty

Difficult as it was for him to believe, Abdel was actually starting to get used to teleporting.

He never really thought of himself as the teleporting sort. It was something mages, phaerimm, demons, and gods did. He was the kind of man who got paid to guard warehouses or walk next to trade caravans with a big sword in his hand. He traveled the old fashioned way. He walked. Sometimes he'd ride a horse, or in a cart or wagon of some kind, and he'd been on a ship a time or two. Instantaneously shifting hundreds of miles in less than a second in a flash of magical light made him dizzy, and he really felt as if he wasn't in control, which is something that bothered him more than anything else.

But then he hadn't been in control of anything in his life for a long time now, so maybe that was it. Being teleported by one of Elhan's mages was the least of his problems.

He shook off the teleportation afterdaze and looked around to make sure he was in the right place. The ceiling was low, barely brushing the top of his head. The air smelled like stale mead and garbage. It was dark, but he could see the outline of sacks of flour and barrels of ale and wine. He could hear footsteps crossing the floor above his head and the sound of a chair being pulled across it. A mumbled voice clearly said, "All done, Boo," and Abdel knew he was in the right place.

He stood on the exact spot where he had made love with Bodhi. She'd hypnotized him. He told himself that again, though he didn't believe it. The smell and the sounds of the place made the memory clear enough that he couldn't pretend as well anymore. He stepped toward the stairs, and his eye was caught by a square patch of shadow on the floor only a stride or two to his left. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness quickly, and when he stepped a bit closer to the shadow, he saw that it was a trapdoor.

It occurred to him that he was looking for a vampire. It was night, but early. Bodhi would have to be someplace as far away from the sun as possible. A cellar under a cellar—what was that? A root cellar? Not a wine cellar, not in this place—in any case, it was a good bet he'd find a vampire in there.

Elhan's mage seemed sure enough that Bodhi was here. He had some way to feel her or sense her or something. Another improbable force Abdel had to trust.

Abdel knelt over the trapdoor and grabbed the cold iron ring that served as a handle. He almost lifted it open, then stopped himself. He pulled his sword, held its weight, let the creaking of Minsc's footsteps above calm him, and realized he didn't want to kill Bodhi. The elves had told him how evil she was, and there was the fact that she was a vampire and all, but there was something there. Reason enough not to kill her at least. He looked at the blade of his sword in the darkness and realized that it wouldn't kill a vampire anyway.

He slid the sword behind his back, and his right hand found the carved wooden stake tucked into his belt. The elves had given it to him. It was carved from a windblown branch, a branch of a tree in the forest of Tethir, on the edge of the sealed, doomed city of Suldanessellar. They gave it to him to kill Bodhi because if they were to survive, they needed her to die, and needed the artifact she certainly wouldn't hand over if she were alive.

He squeezed the wooden stake and opened the trapdoor.

The space below was lit by three candles flickering in a very old candelabra made for six. The ceiling was too low to allow Abdel to stand up, and there were no stairs, no ladder. He slid off the edge and dropped to the dirt floor. The place smelled of mildew and rat droppings, and the only thing down there besides the candelabra and Abdel was an empty coffin.

The fact that it was empty filled Abdel with misplaced relief.

Imoen was asleep again, laying under an amazingly sturdy lean-to the elves had woven of vines, sticks, and leaves. Jaheira sat over her, one hand holding her holy symbol and the other on Imoen's forehead. The prayer came to an end, but where there should have been a surge of healing power there was nothing.

Imoen's strength was fading fast. Her skin was pale and cool, and she slept most of the time. This was the third healing prayer Jaheira had attempted, and nothing had helped. The evil in Imoen's veins seemed to be drowning her soul, thanks to Irenicus's ritual. Mielikki was withholding her grace. It didn't seem fair, but Jaheira tried to understand.

"Phaere …" Imoen mumbled in her sleep.

"She's dying," Yoshimo said from behind her, startling Jaheira.

"Yes," Jaheira said, not looking back at him.

Yoshimo stepped forward, squatting just behind and next to Jaheira. "What people will do. ." the Kozakuran mused.

"For immortality?" Jaheira asked, wetting a rag and wringing it out.

"For immortality," Yoshimo said, "for coin, for loyalty to a crown, a flag, or a man."

Jaheira placed the wet rag on Imoen's forehead—knowing it was a silly, futile gesture but feeling she should do it anyway—and said, "Would they kill?"

Yoshimo laughed at Jaheira's obvious stab. "Where I come from," he said, "assassin is an honorable profession."

"It's murder," Jaheira said flatly, "wherever you are."

"A difference of view," the Kozakuran said. "People have killed for less, yes?"

Jaheira gently pulled the rag off Imoen's head.

"Abdel will save her?" Yoshimo asked. He seemed happy enough to change the subject.

"Abdel?" Imoen murmured in her sleep.

Jaheira gently touched her shoulder, and Imoen's eyes popped open.

"Abdel!" she said, her voice clear and loud in the quiet of the elf camp.

"He'll be here," Jaheira told her. "He'll—"

"Silence!" Imoen growled, her voice deeper now and coarse. Her eyes flashed yellow, and Jaheira gasped. Imoen sat up in a burst of motion, and Jaheira felt a hand grab her and pull her back. Imoen's jaws snapped in the air in front of Jaheira's face as if the girl was trying to bite her.

"Imoen—" Jaheira said.

"She's not herself," Yoshimo whispered.

Imoen laughed, and it wasn't her usual pleasant giggle. "Who am I, Kozakuran?"

"Bhaal. ." Jaheira answered for him.

As if in response, Imoen fell back onto the bed of leaves and was asleep.

Abdel pulled the punch he threw into Gaelan Bayle's midsection, which was the only reason Bayle survived.

"I'd like very much to kill you," Abdel told him.

Bayle's only response was a series of rumbling coughs.

"Oh," Minsc breathed, "I'm sure that did hurt, Boo."

Abdel looked over at the red-haired madman and said, "You need to go for a walk or something, Minsc. The Copper Coronet is closed for the night."

Minsc looked at Bayle then back at Abdel, smiled, and left quickly, whispering, "Looks like we'll need a new job soon, Boo."

"Where is she?" Abdel asked for the third time. "And remember what I told you would happen if I had to ask a fourth time."

Bayle looked up and forced a spittle-lined smile. "All right," he gasped, "all right. . two thousand. . gold pieces. That's my. . that's my final. . my final offer."

Abdel returned his smile and drew back his arm. Bayle closed his eyes, trying to prepare himself for the blow that was coming soon and would likely kill him.

"I knew you'd come," Bodhi said, sliding out from behind the curtain leading into the back room. "You can let him go."

Abdel turned back to Bayle, who smiled at him and winked. Abdel smashed his fist into Bayle's face and dropped the bartender like a bad habit.

Abdel didn't bother watching Bayle hit the ground. He looked up at Bodhi and took her in all at once. She was dressed in a tight silk dress that shimmered in patterns of vines and spiders. Her hair fell around her pale face and accentuated her gray eyes. Her face was regal and perfect, and Abdel could see that she might have once been an elf. She wore no jewelry or shoes.

She stepped closer to him and said, "You've come to kill me."

Abdel saw her glance at the wooden stake in his belt, and he met her gray eyes. They seemed calm and confident. Abdel knew she was sure he wasn't going to kill her, but of course he was.

"Everyone has been lying to you, Abdel," Bodhi said, her voice as sincere as any voice Abdel had ever heard. "I've lied to you. . over and over. . but I'm not the only one. What did they tell you?"

"Who?" Abdel asked.

"The elves," she said, stepping closer still. Abdel's hand went to the stake, but he didn't pull it out. "They told you, what? That I was an elf once? That I did something terrible to them or one of the sacred thises or holy whatses?"

"They told me—"

"A giant crock of horsesh—"

"Enough!" Abdel roared, yanking the stake from his belt but stepping back one stride.

"Abdel. ." she said, and he looked her in the eyes again. "I'm sorry. I had to do all these things. I had no choice and neither did you."

"I had—"

"No choice," she said again. "Name one thing in the last month you decided to do on your own."

Abdel sighed, and Bodhi's eyes softened. Her pupils seemed to widen, and Abdel felt his jaw relax, felt his grip on the stake relax, then a yellow fog passed over his vision.

"Abdel," Bodhi whispered, "be with me.."

Irenicus had warned her that this might happen, and Bodhi had very casually brushed it off, saying she'd seen monsters before. In more ways than one, she was a sort of monster herself, wasn't she?

But what she saw Abdel transform into, she really wasn't ready for.

The stake in his hand snapped in half first, then the link she'd established with him broke all at once, and his body contorted and transformed.

Bodhi was fast, fast enough to stay away from the Abdel-Bhaal thing—the raving, murderous beast. It smashed the bar to splinters and sent stools and chairs hurtling through the air so fast and so hard they shattered the plaster when they hit the walls. White dust was in the air, and the room was full of deafening sounds: roars, the footfalls of something heavier than an elephant, shattering glass, splintering wood, crumbling brick, and disintegrating plaster.

At first the thing was just breaking up the place, lashing out at everything close enough to smash. Bodhi wasn't sure exactly what to do. This was as close to an avatar of the dead God of Murder that anyone alive had ever been, and she admitted to herself that she was well out of her depth.

She knew she couldn't turn and run … or could she?

She didn't have a chance to decide before the thing that used to be Abdel turned and fixed its blazing yellow eyes on her.