Baldur's gate II_ throne of Bhaal - Drew Karpyshyn [9]
Nearby, a woman screamed.
* * * * *
Jaheira's anguished cry woke Abdel instantly, ripping him from the strange dream. A heartbeat later he was on his feet with his heavy sword drawn as his eyes scoured the surrounding foliage for signs of danger.
He saw nothing, unable to pierce the darkness of the night. "Jaheira," he whispered, "What is it, my love?"
A single, arcane word from fell from Jaheira's lips, and the grove was bathed in a soft, warm light. The magical illumination allowed Abdel to see clearly. Jaheira was already on her feet, the familiar quarterstaff she used as a weapon clenched tightly in her fists as she stood beside Abdel. Imoen was still on the ground, slowly struggling to raise her weary form to a standing position, fumbling with the tiny dagger she kept tucked inside her belt.
Abdel barely noticed his two female companions. Instead, his attention was drawn to the unfamiliar surroundings, and he understood the horrified reaction of his druid companion. What had been a lush, vibrant forest when he had fallen asleep had become a moribund grove of decay. Towering trees were now rotting dead wood, their trunks twisted and malformed. All around them dead leaves tumbled slowly to the ground, falling from dead branches to cover the clearing like a sickly yellow blanket.
The pungent smell of decomposing vegetation assailed Abdel's nostrils. Beneath the sickly sweet odor he half imagined he could smell something else-something foul and unclean.
"What is this?" Imoen asked in a harsh, uneasy whisper.
"Fell magic," Jaheira replied, "an abomination of the natural order."
"Get into a defensive position," Abdel ordered, taking charge of the situation. He was certain an attack was imminent, and he had no desire to let something spring at his unprotected back from the surrounding trees. The three companions moved into a tight circle, standing back to back near the center of the small clearing.
The brush of Jaheira's hair against Abdel's bare arm sent an electric shiver of longing along the big man's spine, but he shook off the effect of his lover's touch. He needed to focus on the impenetrable wall of gray and twisted trees ahead of him.
He did not have long to wait.
The attack came from all sides simultaneously, as Abdel knew it would and hoped it wouldn't. A pack of five creatures familiar in form yet somehow alien and altered launched themselves from the cover of the forest, hurling their bodies with reckless abandon at the three defenders.
One great wolf leaped at Abdel's throat, and a part of the sellsword's mind instinctively recoiled at what he saw. The beast's eyes were milky white, the pupils lost in the murky pus that wept from the half-blind orbs leaving a sticky, glistening trail of slime oozing down the creature's snout. Great flecks of gray foam flew from the wolf's open jaws. Its teeth were barely visible beneath the thick froth welling up from its throat. The wolf's heavy coat was matted and tangled. The flesh showing through the many patches of mange was discolored and covered with festering lesions. The fur of the creature pulsated, as if millions of maggots wriggled just beneath the surface. Worst of all was the smell, the sickly sweet stench of gangrenous flesh that threatened to overwhelm Abdel's gag reflex and drop him retching to his knees.
Only a small part of Abdel's mind was refined enough to feel any revulsion at the abhorrent lupine form. The majority of his brain operated on a more basic, primal level. Abdel's sword moved with the speed of thought, slicing through the chest of the diseased wolf. The blade ripped through fur and ribcage, covering the sellsword in a spray of warm blood.
Abdel let the momentum of his blow spin him around to face the creatures converging on Jaheira and Imoen. By the time the corpse of the first wolf had hit the ground, Abdel's sword was already disemboweling a second that had leaped toward