"We will reach the gate before first light," the elf said, glancing back casually.
"Gate?" Abdel asked.
Jaheira smiled and sighed, a sound as grateful as it was tired.
"We'll be in camp by this time tomorrow night," the elf said.
The assassin with the crossbow finally just turned and ran.
Goram and Naris let him go, keeping their eyes on the priestess. Behind them, Sheeta dropped a stone into her sling and Bodhi eyed the scene with only the necessary concern.
The priestess muttered through a series of seemingly meaningless words and even less meaningful hand gestures. She held something in one hand that disappeared as she coughed out the last word of the prayer. Goram stepped to the side, though Bodhi wasn't sure what he was trying to avoid. Naris leaped forward with the blade of his bardiche straight out in front of him but couldn't get to the priestess before she finished her spell.
Naris pulled back his right arm to bring the polearm to bear and froze that way. Bodhi heard the stone from Sheeta's sling drop onto the hard ground, and the vampire turned to look at her. The short orc woman was also frozen firmly in place. Her little brow was furrowed, and her eyes blazed, but she didn't—couldn't—move a muscle. Goram and Kelvan were unaffected, and they came in faster in response.
The Shadow Thief with the scimitar stepped in to meet Kelvan, and both of them smiled evilly at the sound of steel on steel.
"Make that bitch very, very sorry, Goram," Bodhi said sternly, and the vampire ran straight at the priestess Neela without the slightest hesitation.
When? Bodhi asked Irenicus across the miles that separated them.
When Imoen and Abdel get here, he answered. Soon.
Neela produced what was obviously an enchanted mace. She was bringing it to bear on a rapidly charging Goram. Kelvan was engaged in combat with the scimitar-wielding assassin, and Sheeta and Naris were magically immobilized. Bodhi realized the time had come to involve herself.
The Shadow Thief was managing to drive Kelvan back, and Bodhi spared a glance to check on her man's progress. Kelvan's two short swords whirred in the night, striking sparks against the assassin's scimitar. Bodhi turned away when she saw Kelvan accidentally gut the frozen form of Naris.
"Damn!" Kelvan grunted. The Shadow Thief laughed, pleased with the lucky break.
Goram didn't make it to the priestess before he was sprayed with a barrage of throwing knives. Bodhi wasn't worried about Goram—the plain steel blades held no more danger for her thrall than they did for Bodhi—but she was impressed with the Shadow Thief woman's aim.
"Don't waste them, Selarra," the priestess told her charge. "Get the stake."
The young woman scanned the dark ground for the stake and found it still protruding from Nevilla's motionless chest. Bodhi smiled and stepped away. She saw Selarra realize that Bodhi was between her and the dead thrall.
Kelvan finally found an opening in the Shadow Thief's relentless attack and took advantage of the assassin's growing overconfidence. The Shadow Thief was laughing even when Kelvan gutted him, finally realizing he'd lost when Kelvan's second blade slid across the front of his throat.
Bodhi's teasing sidestep brought her to within an arm's reach of the priestess, and the vampire took advantage of Goram's first attack with his strong, claw-like fingernails and scratched out with her own talons at Neela's face. Goram ducked a fast blow from the enchanted mace and had to almost throw himself to the ground to avoid the wild attack. The priestess screamed angrily when Bodhi took her eye in a hard rake of sharp claws. The mace dropped from Neela's grip.
"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."
Chapter Nineteen
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."