"Don't go far," Abdel warned.

  Jaheira gave a slight nod in response and vanished into the thick darkness of the woods.

  Imoen rested fitfully, mumbling and twitching often as she lay on the cold ground. Abdel could do little but watch and curse those who hunted them. If he was alone, he could stand and fight. For anyone but Abdel, such a thought would have been ludicrous, and until recently, even he would not have considered the idea.

  As a teenager Abdel had been bigger and stronger than most of the grown men he had encountered, and as an adult Abdel was perhaps the largest, most imposing human on the face of Faerun. Standing seven feet tall, the heavily muscled young man had carved out a reputation for himself as a blade for hire, mercenary, bodyguard, warrior—as a sellsword, Abdel had done it all. Then he had learned the truth that would forever change his life.

  Abdel was the son of the Lord of Murder, the offspring of the god Bhaal. A dead god, true, but a god nonetheless. The identity of his father had turned Abdel into a fugitive on the run, pursued by enemies and bounty hunters wherever he went. His lineage had also changed Abdel's life in even more astonishing ways. He was evolving, physically changing. He still looked like a normal, if remarkably large, human man, but he wasn't human. Not anymore. Jaheira called him an avatar—a physical manifestation of his immortal father.

  Being an avatar had its share of advantages. Abdel's body had become a vessel for the essence of Bhaal. Even for his enormous size he was freakishly strong. Somehow his body was now able to draw on the immortal essence contained within to replenish itself, healing grievous and even fatal injuries at an astounding rate. Abdel's endurance, strength, and physical prowess were unmatched throughout the lands of Faerun. His power was growing. Every day Abdel felt himself becoming stronger, felt his abilities passing further and further beyond the limiting thresholds of mortality.

  His remarkable regenerative powers could now render the arrows and blades of his enemies all but useless. The wounds inflicted would heal almost instantly. Virtually invincible, Abdel believed he could single-handedly slaughter an entire company and walk away unharmed. Imoen and Jaheira were not blessed with his extraordinary constitution. They would be vulnerable, and in the chaos of a full-scale battle Abdel didn't know if he could protect them.

  There was something else: Immune to all physical weaponry, Abdel was vulnerable in another way. The big sellsword was no stranger to violence. His chosen profession had nurtured and honed his bloodlust, feeding the evil part of him that was the legacy of Bhaal to all his children. Only Jaheira's love had prevented Abdel from succumbing to the taint of the dead Lord of Murder and becoming a soulless killing machine like his half brother Sarevok had been.

  The support and guidance of the woman he loved had enabled Abdel to fight against his own impulses. With Jaheira's patient and understanding hand on his shoulder, he had learned to control the hate and the rage within him, to suppress the terrible transformation that threatened to overwhelm him. But that control was fragile. The wholesale slaughter of his pursuers might unleash the terrible monster he had learned to cage within himself.

  It had happened before—to both himself and Imoen, though Abdel had purged the beast from Imoen's spirit in a vicious, bloody battle at the foot of the Tree of Life. But the potential for Abdel to turn into a mindless abomination bent only on killing every living being within reach was still very real. In victory over his enemies Abdel's very identity could be consumed by the foul essence of his unholy father and his body would transform into the four-armed demon that was the physical manifestation of Bhaal's evil on Faerun. If he wasn't careful, Abdel knew, he might become the Ravager again.

  The slightest whisper of leaves caused Abdel to spin around and drop into a low crouch, drawing his heavy broadsword from the sheath on his back in a single, fluid motion. He stood with the blade poised to strike at the first appearance of the unseen intruder, his powerful hands clenching at the hilt of his weapon so hard his knuckles were white. The enormous muscles of his arms and shoulders rippled and twitched in anticipation, then relaxed when Jaheira emerged from the forest and stepped into the clearing.

  The attractive druid held up a handful of small, three-cornered leaves, then popped one into her own mouth. "These will help, but we still need to sleep. Even you, Abdel." She handed him one of the leaves. "For Imoen. Just place it under her tongue if she's too tired to chew."

  Abdel did as he was told, dropping to his knees and setting his sword on the ground as he tenderly lifted the head of his exhausted half sister. She didn't respond to his voice when he urged her to take the leaf, so Abdel gently tilted her face back and opened her tiny mouth. He slipped the leaf beneath her tongue and lowered her head back to the cold ground. Jaheira handed him a blanket from the pack she carried on her back, and he carefully arranged it over the winsome body of the sleeping young woman.

  Jaheira lay down a few feet away, and Abdel crawled over beside her. She snuggled up close, resting her head in the crook of his massive arm and pressing herself against him to try and draw warmth from his well-muscled body.

  "I spoke to the animals of the forest," the druid whispered in a groggy voice, already succumbing to the welcome embrace of sleep. "They will warn us if anyone approaches."

  Reassured by Jaheira's words, Abdel shifted slightly on the cold ground, trying to get comfortable without disturbing the already sleeping druid. He had full confidence in Jaheira's ability to commune with the birds and beasts of the forest. He knew they would be well watched over while they slept, but for some reason Abdel could not will himself to close his eyes.

  He struggled with the dilemma of their situation. The hunters were close, and with both Imoen and Jaheira able to travel less and less each day it was only a matter of time until the three were found. Abdel would be forced to fight, forced into a confrontation he desperately wanted to avoid.

  Not for the first time, Abdel considered slipping away while Imoen and Jaheira slept. He could lure their pursuers away from the two women. Let them live in peace while he lived the never-ending life of a fugitive. Abdel sighed and closed his eyes, dismissing the option as he always did. Even if he could bring himself to leave Jaheira's side, even if he could force himself to abandon Imoen and the woman he loved, he had no way to be certain the hunters would follow him.

  They chased Abdel for his blood—the tainted blood of a dead god. They persecuted him for the sins of his father, Bhaal. Rumors of sudden arrests, senseless tortures, and immediate executions were too frequent and too widespread to be discounted. Like all the Bhaalspawn, Abdel was on the run—sentenced to incarceration or death not because of anything he had done, but simply because of who he was.

  Imoen was a Bhaalspawn, too. Even though the taint of the dead god had been all but purged from her soul, her life would be forfeit if they were captured, just as surely as Abdel's. Imoen was not strong enough to survive without Abdel and Jaheira helping her.

  Overwhelmed by the hopelessness of his situation, Abdel at last gave in to sleep.

  He was standing in a void, a dead world of gray nothingness. Abdel felt for the great blade he normally kept strapped to his back and was reassured when his hand brushed against the cold metal of the hilt.

  "There is no need for that here—though if it comforts you, so be it."

  The voice was neither male nor female. It seemed to be the sound of a great host speaking in perfect, harmonious unison. Resisting the instinctive impulse to draw his sword, Abdel spun around. His head snapped from side to side, seeking out the unknown speaker or speakers. He saw nothing but empty gray on every side.

  "Show yourself!" His voice echoed in the emptiness, drawing his attention momentarily back to his strange surroundings. Abdel glanced up and saw there was no sky above him, he glanced down and realized there was no earth below. He didn't even feel as if he was standing on anything.

  "There is nothing to fear, Abdel Adrian. You will not fall."

  Obviously, the disembodied voice could read his thoughts, wherever—or whatever—it was. Abdel was surprised to notice that the words of the voice did not echo like his.

  "Show yourself," Abdel said again. This time it was more of a request than a command.

  "Prepare thyself, Child of Bhaal."

  Suddenly, Abdel was not alone in the void. The entity did not slowly materialize from the gray as Abdel had expected. It didn't flash or magically shimmer into being as if from a wizard's spell. One moment there was nothing, the next the entity was there—as real and permanent as if it had existed in this strange nether realm for an eternity before Abdel's own appearance.

  The being was male, with white hair and a beard. Though it resembled a human in form the features were neither handsome nor ugly and were unremarkable. It was not mortal. No mortal could compare to such a divine creation. It was clad in a black flowing robe, in contrast to its flawless alabaster skin. The material seemed to meld with the being that wore it, flowing together so that Abdel could not tell where the apparel ended and the entity began. His eyes swam with the dark depths of eternity, pierced with blazing points of purest light—like the starry sky on a clear, bright night. The face was both young and old, both omnipotent and innocent.

  The creature towered over Abdel's own seven-foot frame, and the robe encompassed all of the celestial patterns of the moons and stars. Bathed in the glorious presence, Abdel could only stand in speechless awe for several seconds.

  When he at last found his voice, he could only utter, "I must be dreaming."

  "A dream can be no less true than that what you call the real world," the entity assured him.

  "Are you a god?" Abdel asked, unaware he had even formed the question in his head until he heard his own voice echoing in the surrounding void.

  "Not a god, but a servant of the Divine Will. There are greater powers than the gods, Abdel Adrian."

  Abdel shook his head to try and dispel the fog of wonder that seemed to envelop his thoughts. His mind cleared somewhat.

  "Where am I?" Abdel was certain the magnificent specimen before him knew the answer to his question. Perhaps it knew the answer to all questions.

  "We are between, Abdel Adrian," the being responded in its harmonious multitude of voices. "That which was, that which is, and that which may be. All things are possible here, yet none truly exist."

  "I . .. don't understand." A part of Abdel felt ashamed to admit his ignorance to this glorious creature. But another part, a small, hard ember at the core of Abdel's being, felt resentment toward the entity before him.

  "No, you are not yet ready to truly understand." The creature seemed to be momentarily speaking to itself before turning its responses back toward Abdel. "This was once the realm of Bhaal—a piece of the Abyss blighted and scarred by the hate and evil of your father's existence. But Bhaal is dead, and he no longer holds sway here."

  Abdel pondered the being's reply for a long time. The creature stood motionless before him, radiant and stunning. When the entity first appeared, Abdel had felt his own identity all but crushed beneath the creature's splendor. Now, however, Abdel no longer felt overwhelmed by the entity's mere presence.

  "You brought me here, didn't you? Why?"

  "Your presence here is as much your own will as mine, Abdel Adrian—though you do not yet know it. You are here to prepare."

  "Prepare for what?" Abdel asked, already certain he knew what the answer would be.

  "Your destiny. The legacy of your father. You are a Child of Bhaal, Abdel Adrian. Know this, and you shall know thyself."

  The small ember of resentment briefly flared up in the sellsword's breast. Destiny, the legacy of Bhaal; in his entire life, in all he had seen and done, Abdel had never encountered anything remotely resembling the creature now before him. Yet this spectacular being was repeating the same refrain Abdel had been hearing ever since the night his half brother Sarevok's minions had killed Gorion, Abdel's foster father.

  With a weary sigh Abdel asked a series of all-too-familiar questions.

  "What of my legacy, then? What future does my destiny hold? And what do you want from me?"

  The entity, physically perfect in its statuesque motionlessness up until this point, shifted its head slightly. The illusion was shattered. For all the spectacle of this seemingly omniscient, omnipotent creature, Abdel realized, the entity was uncertain. Again, the ember of resentment flared up within the muscular chest of the giant warrior.

  "I have watched you closely, Abdel Adrian," the man informed him. "The Immortal is strong within you. There are many paths for the Children of Bhaal yet to walk, and you shall be one at the forefront of the journey."

  "Children?" Abdel asked in surprise. "You mean Imoen is involved, too?"

  "You and Imoen are not alone. Your destiny is entwined with that of many, many others."

  "And just what is this destiny you speak of? What future awaits me?"

  "Your destiny is yet unclear," the being admitted. "But know that the time of prophecy is near. There are those who seek to destroy you and your kin, Abdel. Betrayal awaits at every turn, and hidden enemies plot to kill you."

  "Hidden enemies? Who? Why can't you just tell me?"

  "There are secrets I cannot divulge. My actions are bound by forces mortals cannot fathom. I can only guide you to the answers you seek, Abdel Adrian. I cannot give the answers to you.

  "Seek those who share the taint of your blood and you shall find the answers I cannot give."

  Abdel woke to Jaheira's screams.

  Chapter Two

  Illasera sensed the hunt was near an end. She licked her lips in anticipation as she slung her bow from her taut, muscular shoulder. Without breaking her long, graceful stride she silently notched a single black arrow from the quiver on her slim hip. The trampled undergrowth, snapped twigs, and broken branches marking the path of her quarry's passing were fresh—a few hours old at most. The faint footprints on the hard forest floor, all but invisible to those unfamiliar with the ways of the hunter, revealed a steadily decreasing stride length—an obvious sign of fatigue. Illasera was certain the trio she stalked would have to stop for the night to rest, but the Huntress was still going. She would catch them soon.

  She paused, her finely honed predator's senses picking up yet another indication of her targets' nearby presence. Illasera could smell her prey. The scent of musky sweat hung heavy on the still air trapped within the densely wooded Tethir Forest. It was more than that though, Illasera was one of the Five. She could feel them. The blood of the Bhaalspawn called out to her, like calling to like, urging her on. She set off again, quickening her pace with every eager step, slipping through the trees, silent as a shadow.

  A flicker of movement caught the corner of her eye. She unleashed a single arrow, pinning the small bird that had just flown by to a tree. As she marched past, Illasera glanced down at the tiny feathered body impaled on the point, still twitching feebly in a hopeless effort to escape. The creature had been trying to warn her prey.

  The Huntress brushed a strand of long hair back from her face and laughed softly to herself as she pressed on. One of the three she stalked could speak with the animals of the forest, commune with them in ways most people could not fathom. One of her prey was a child of the grove, a servant of nature, a druid.

  They were foolish if they believed such feathered sentinels could protect them. Each of the Five was blessed with unholy power. The legacy of their tainted, immortal father manifested itself in them in different ways. Illasera's power linked her to the earth. Like the druid, Illasera could touch the creatures of the forest. She could use her power to influence the natural order. However, hers was not a symbiotic relationship. When Illasera used her power, nature was bent to serve her tainted will.

  Illasera hesitated, considering the consequences of her actions. She could send out a call to the darker spirits that dwelt within the wood—a call that would surely be heard by the nearby druid. But if the Bhaalspawn were as close as Illasera suspected, as close as they felt, the advance warning of her presence would not be enough to allow them to escape.

  Standing still, she tilted her head back and raised her arms to the black sky. Her eyes blazed with a dark fire. Overhead the leaves rustled and branches shook as Illasera gathered her power in a chill wind. The nearby animals fled in silent terror at the touch of the icy air or cowered in the cover of the forest undergrowth, paralyzed with fear.

  The ground trembled with the mounting magic of the dark archer. A great flock of fowl burst from the shelter of the nearby branches, blotting out the moon as they arced toward the sky. The sound of a thousand beating wings couldn't hide the harsh screams of terror from their feathered throats. The Huntress echoed their cries with a scream of her own, unleashing a wave of malevolent magic that rumbled across the forest's floor as Illasera sent forth an unholy summons none could deny.

  The denizens of the forest—fowl, beasts, even the trees themselves—were touched by the unholy call as the dark magic enveloped them. Leaves withered and died instantly, branches became twisted and gnarled, roots rotted and tangled, even the trunks of the great oaks warped and bent into an abomination of their natural form. The smaller creatures of the forest fell dead, their existence obliterated by Illasera's necromancy. Those that were stronger began to change—metamorphosing into mutated, diseased versions of their true form. Corrupted by the evil taint of one of the Five, the helpless creatures' minds were dominated and consumed by Illasera's own evil consciousness.

  They gathered around Illasera's form. A pack of what had once been wolves circled their fell mistress. With a single silent command Illasera sent her minions off as advance scouts to lead the Huntress to her prey.

  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.