Ammon Jerro stood alone before the fireplace in the common room of the Phoenix Tail, silent and stone-faced, bitter anger rolling off of him in waves. Raewyn's companions sat clustered around the other tables, while she and Zhjaeve spoke quietly in the far corner.
Bishop cast an appraising stare at the wizard. "So that's Ammon Jerro...not dead, after all." He muttered angrily under his breath, "Glad we made sure of that before running into his labyrinth of demons."
Sand looked a warning at the ranger. "Yes, he is alive... and he is much more powerful than tales ever indicated."
"So what now? We imprison him? Throw him to the Watch?"
Bishop answered the dwarf's question with a derisive sneer. "Tell me you're joking. He'll send the entire District to the Abyss and then he'll come after us."
His assessment was correct, and Casavir, surprisingly, seemed to agree with the ranger. "Justice must be served...but I am not certain he would find justice within Neverwinter's walls."
"We could throw him off the Docks." piped Neeshka.
Rolling his eyes at the rogue's humor, Bishop eyed the wizard again, his tone threatening. "I say we get what we need from him, then take care of him." He turned back to the rest conspiratorially. "No one needs to know."
Casavir bristled, the moment of accord between paladin and the ranger clearly over. "He murdered Shandra Jerro, and he must answer for it. But we will not answer murder with murder."
At the next table, Grobnar sat miserably, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I still don't understand what went wrong...if only we'd had some way of getting to her in time.…"
Elanee put her arm around his small shoulders. "There is no sense to be made of it, Grobnar. Now, we must simply accept." The gnome nodded, his misery clearly not much abated.
Casavir looked with sympathy at the miserable bard, then turned his glance back to Raewyn. He shook his head. "It is our leader I am worried about."
And he was worried. She'd barely spoken to anyone since Ammon had spent the last of his Haven's power to send them back to Crossroad Keep. As grateful as he'd been not to face the rigors of the long journey back, he wondered if the few days travel might not have helped Raewyn, helped all of them come to terms with Shandra's death. His glance moved to where the sorcerer stood before the fire, and he recalled the hard pain in Raewyn's eyes as she'd told Ammon to await her at the Phoenix tail. With him traveling with their company, perhaps even the shock of so sudden a return was kinder than several days of proximity to him.
The paladin heaved a sigh, knowing as much as he wished to, he could not take the burdens from her shoulders. He resolved to lend her his strength and support where he could, however.
If the loss of Shandra hit all of them hard, it hit Raewyn hardest of all. Even now, with the whole of Crossroad Keep looking to her, she had never been prepared for the loss of one of her companions. Of any of them, Shandra had always seemed the most untouched by the burden of battle. It was perhaps ironic, since she herself had lost everything, and joined them only when she had nothing left. But her forthright spirit had affected all of them, and her death—such a senseless death at that—shook them all. Even Bishop, when he heard what happened, seemed unable to muster his usual drawled comebacks, instead directing his ire at the murderous wizard. But Raewyn felt she was wholly to blame, and that she had failed Shandra unforgivably.
Her distress was furthered by having to deal with Ammon Jerro. He was remorseful over his granddaughter's death, but it was not enough to curb his innately abrasive arrogance. Raewyn would happily have sent him to prison, back to his Haven, to the coldest of the Nine Hells, for all that, but it seemed she had little choice in the matter. Ammon held the final component of the Ritual of Purification, together with both knowledge and power they needed if they were to succeed.
She approached him, knowing she needed to find out what he knew of the Silver Sword. As she approached, however, he whirled on her, snarling.
"Why did you bring her to my haven? Even though she was of my bloodline, you knew she did not have the strength to survive there."
"We had no choice. We need the knowledge you have to fight the Kind of Shadows."
He sighed tiredly, some of the fight going out of him, leaving a weary bitterness in tis wake. "I have fought the King of Shadows before. I have made... pacts...I have studied him, tried to learn his weaknesses, and the extent of his power. And always, it has been a war with few victories."
"Tell us what you know."
"Surely you know of the Ritual of Purification...you should know I have performed part of the Ritual myself already."
"Yes, we know. And I have performed the other four. It seems neither of use can succeed alone." Jerro raised his eyebrows at that, but refused to show surprise.
"You are correct. Without it, we cannot strike at the King of Shadows, and the battle is lost before it begins."
"What is the King of Shadows? I know he was once the guardian of Illefarn, but what is it?"
"The King of Shadows is no mortal creature, more a force than anything else. But there is something that can harm him. Those shards you have...they are part of the sword of Gith."
"Yes, we know that as well. I have been hounded by githyanki Sword Stalkers, until I defeated Zeeaire, the last of them on this plane." So far, Raewyn was not impressed by Jerro's knowledge, for he had not yet told her anything she did not already know, and she was in no mood for games.
"Once the King of Shadows was driven back by githyanki warriors wielding hundreds... maybe thousands of those blades. But the sword of Gith is more than a simple silver sword... and it can wound the King of Shadows, like it did, once, long ago."
"In the last battle with the King of Shadows, when the blade was shattered?"
"A part of the blade got lodged in your chest, in the battle in West Harbor, when you were a child. And whether you like it or not, you are now that weapon. The more shards you gather, the stronger that weapon becomes. Together, we can stop the King of Shadows, and we must. I have completed part of the Ritual of Purification. If you kill me, the battle is lost as soon as my heart stops beating. Without me, you cannot win."
Raewyn regarded him a long moment. "Because of the ritual it seems we are forced allies. But I do not like it, and if you attempt to work against me or mine, I will see you pay for your crimes sooner than later."
Jerro gave a harsh bark that might have been a bitter laugh, or merely a scoff. "My naive young friend, I will be paying for my pacts and my crimes for millennia when I die. There are places in the hells reserved for ones such as me." He turned his eyes back to her, the glowing patterns casting his features with an unearthly glow. His voice was devoid of emotion, as though he were making note of the weather. "Whatever punishments you think I deserve, I will suffer a thousand-fold; well beyond anything your small mind can imagine." After his angry and arrogant tone, the calm with which he uttered those words made Raewyn shudder. She recalled Mephasm's parting words to the sorcerer, and did not doubt for a moment that his assessment was correct.
The determination returned to his voice when he spoke again. "But I will strike at the King of Shadows before I leave this plane. And you will have no stronger ally than I in this, both in knowledge and power."
Raewyn nodded. "Very well. It seems we are on the same side after all."
"Then we must gather our forces against the King of Shadows."
With her heart no less heavy despite Ammon's reassurances, Raewyn turned to her companions. She met their eyes one by one, seeing her own sadness mirrored in each of their faces, even Bishop's.
"My friends, as loathe as I am to say it, it seems we must accept the aid of Ammon Jerro. He knows, as we all do, that he will pay a steep price for his deeds, but it is not for us to impose it. For now, the fate of all of Neverwinter, possibly all of Faerûn depends on us, and we must use whatever help we have to hand. I hope Shandra would have understood."
She turned then, intending to seek the solace of her quarters, but Casavir stopped her. "My lady, may we speak a moment?"
She paused, considering. She didn't want to speak at all, but part of her longed for the comfort of Casavir's company. She nodded to him, and he moved to draw her to a table away from the rest. He had little time to speak with her, however, for Nevalle strode in and seeing Raewyn approached her purposefully. It seemed she was called to attend Lord Nasher immediately. She was also to go alone.