Chapter 7…The Bait Is Taken

The moment we were spotted returning from Sydney's charming little ambush, one of the lookouts on the wall went running back into the keep with the news. I knew Kana had been anxious. She had made it crystal clear that she hadn't wanted just the three of us to go off with the Luskans in the first place. Apparently she was not the only one who had been waiting up for us. Sand, Torio, Khelgar, and Ammon Jerro were standing around in the yard behind her.

"Hurrah, a welcoming party," I muttered under my breath. Zhjaeve gave me a questioning look but I just shook my head. I was tired and irritated and I desperately needed a hot bath. What I didn't need was a long debriefing.

Ammon's presence surprised me. As far as I knew, he had still been out with the Greycloaks when we had set forth to meet with the Luskan ambassador. Had he been worried about me? He stood apart from the others, arms crossed, face neutral.

Khelgar ran forward and gave me a playful swat on the back, apparently not noticing that the back of my robe was still wet with blood. I winced out of reflex but it didn't actually hurt. Zhjaeve had already healed the holes in my body. I hoped my squire could mend the holes in my robe without screwing up the enchantment.

"How did it go, lass? Was it a trap?" Then he noticed my blood on his hand and he frowned.

"It was," I said, stripping off the gauntlets and then the belt and handing them over, not without a pang of regret. They were no longer in the pristine state I had received them in. "Sorry about the blood. The Ironfist gear probably saved my life."

"You should have seen it," Qara said excitedly. Her voice made me feel so weary. "Jess pulverized that Hosttower witch. She chopped her into chunks, there was blood everywhere. Look, I got some on my shoes. Eeuw. And guess what, we were attacked by a gigantic elemental animus that looked just like me! Jess pulverized it too. And I made charcoal out of a whole bunch of Luskan assassins. It was great!"

"I take it that Neverwinter is now short one Luskan ambassador," Sand said dryly. "Again."

"I'm afraid so," I replied.

"I expect that the position will become one of the more unpopular postings in Luskan. It certainly seems to be unlucky this decade. Why Torio, perhaps you can petition to get your old job back," Sand said maliciously. Torio gave him a moue of annoyance.

"Kana, this is Jalboun of the Two Blades, formerly in the ambassador's employ," I said, breaking in on this little exchange before the daggers came out. "He wishes to join the Greycloaks effective immediately."

Kana looked him up and down, clearly not impressed by the warrior's rather barbaric appearance. She was going to have a fit when she learned what I had agreed to pay him and it would probably end up coming out of my purse. Jalboun had been darting curious looks around the keep, but at this, he made Kana a low bow.

"I am most eager to join your illustrious company," he said. "Having seen how well your women fight, your men must be like gods." He smiled, seemingly oblivious to our astonished stares. I pulled Kana aside.

"See if you can find him some detached duties," I said in a low voice. We watched him ogle Torio, who responded with a sly smile. "Extremely detached." Maybe we could send him to Neverwinter. I wasn't sure what had possessed me to bribe Jalboun away from Sydney instead of just killing him but I was already wondering if I hadn't made one of those dreadful errors that one regrets over and over again.

"I hear you, Knight-Captain," she said grimly. She waved for a Greycloak and told him to get Jalboun settled down in the barracks. As soon as the mercenary left, Zhjaeve opened Sydney's battered scroll case and pulled out our prize.

"Know that we have the True Names of the shadow reavers," she said triumphantly.

Ammon's eyes gleamed and he moved towards her.

"Let me see that."

Zhjaeve took a step backward and clutched the scroll to her narrow chest.

"Know that this scroll has been entrusted to me and only I have the knowledge required to use it," she said. Ammon's expression darkened.

No one had actually entrusted the scroll to anyone—Zhjaeve had snatched the case from Natale's twitching corpse—but I let that pass.

"I think you will find that I, too, am capable of reading the True Names," Ammon said coldly. Studying the King of Shadows had been his life's work after all.

"You are a human. The True Names are of no use to you. You cannot possibly pronounce them."

"Know that I can," he said through gritted teeth. His eyes burned into her.

"Let him look at it," I said in what I hoped was a calming voice. If Zhjaeve tried to stand between Ammon and his consuming obsession to end the King of Shadows—well, that would be bad. That would be very bad, and we were already short of clerics. "We are working together, and if both of you can read the names that can only be of benefit to us all."

Zhjaeve stared at me over her veil and then she inclined her head.

"The Kalach-Cha speaks wisely," she said at last. "I shall make a copy for the warlock's use." Ammon gave her a wary nod.

"I have news as well," he told me. "The Greycloaks have found the camp of one of the shadow reavers." His eyes met mine. "It is nearby."

"Well, great," I said. "We can try out the scroll tomorrow." He gave me one of his sarcastic parodies of a smile.

Once I'd changed clothes and washed up, I headed straight for Sal's bar. After drinking most of a pitcher of water in my room, I was ready for something stronger.

Ammon was sitting at one of the back tables. I hadn't expected to see him there but I wasn't totally surprised either. He, however, had obviously been expecting me. He had a mug of ale ready for me.

"Heroism is dry work," he said in answer to my unspoken query. His words were mocking but his face was serious enough.

"Heroism." I had to laugh but it didn't come out sounding all that merry. "Butchery is also dry work." I drank down half the mug.

"So it is."

We sat and drank. After awhile, I felt some of the anger and frustration drain out of me. I was used to fighting unthinking monsters, but for some reason it was different when a fellow human decided to kill you.

Well, no, that wasn't the problem. Plenty of fellow humans (and other sentient beings) had tried to kill me. Maybe the difference was that Sydney had decided to kill me, not because I had something she wanted, not because of hatred, revenge or even out of patriotism, but merely because she had decided I was of no use to her. She wanted Zhjaeve because the githzerai could pronounce the True Names. Someone had contracted her to kill Qara (and I could think of several candidates off the top of my head). But to Sydney, killing me was more along the lines of taking out the trash—a chore that had to be done to keep things neat and tidy, necessary but meaningless.

I didn't like that.

Maybe I had gotten a little too accustomed to people thinking I was important, to being the Knight-Captain, to being some kind of a hero. I didn't like the thought of my death being someone's meaningless chore.

I tried to explain some of this to Ammon. Even in my own ears, my words sounded stupid. I half expected him to come back with something cynical—how all our lives were meaningless and I should lose the pride. I really didn't need to hear that just then. But when I met his eyes, he gave me a look that made me think maybe I was misjudging him. He refilled my mug. I settled back into my chair, stretched out my legs and felt a little happier for some reason.

I thought about asking Sal to close down the bar. It was late and there were things I wanted to say without being overheard by the travelers and merchants who passed through the keep and ended up in the Phoenix Tail. I looked up to see that most of the customers had already left. Sal winked at me as he ushered out the last of the strangers.

There were times when Crossroad Keep felt like a heavy chain slung around my neck—and there were times when it felt like my one true home.

"How did you find the camp of the shadow reaver?" I asked Ammon once we had a bit of privacy.

"Elanee, through her animal…minions…sensed something unnatural in the nearby forest," he said. "I went out with a squad of Greycloaks to check. I thought it was probably zombies. Imagine our surprise," he added dryly.

"There's nothing quite like running into an invincible monster to spoil your day."

"Indeed."

"Still, you managed to get the Greycloaks away unscathed," I said. He raised a brow. "Kana told me," I added. She had noticed the rents in the back of my robe and had followed me to my room to make sure I had been properly healed. She had also filled me in on Ammon's exploits. "She was most impressed."

She had been impressed not only that Ammon had been capable of protecting the Greycloaks, but that he had bothered to do so. I decided not to pass along that observation, not that Ammon would care that he was regarded with such distrust.

"Simple misdirection," he said flatly. "There was nothing impressive to it." It was my turn to raise a brow but apparently he was done with that subject. "The shadow reaver was not alone. He had a couple of blade golems with him and something else. Shadows, I think. They did not show themselves but I sensed their presence."

"A shadow reaver with blade golems?" That seemed an odd partnership. "Is Garius supplying the constructs?"

"So I would assume. You'll want to bring your armored warriors against them. Casavir and Khelgar would be good choices."

"Yes," I mused. "Too bad Grobnar hasn't got our own blade golem working reliably yet. Do you think the shadow reaver will move his camp tonight?"

"I would."

"So would I. I'll bring my tracker as well." Bishop was probably in a better mood after half-murdering me in our sparring session and he was always up for a fight, especially if I paid him for it. Ammon frowned a bit though as if he disagreed.

"It won't be difficult to track a pair of blade golems through the woods," he said. "Surely the druid could do so easily." I shook my head a little.

"Maybe but it would be better to be prepared. We'd feel like such fools if we lost the damned things, especially so close to the keep. Zhjaeve should finish scribing the scroll tonight and she will give you the copy in the morning. Do you want to come along tomorrow?"

"Of course."

I knew he would say that.

"I guess we'll find out tomorrow if the scroll really works or if it is an elaborate fake put together by the Hosttower."

Ammon gave me a jaded look.

"I wish you hadn't raised that possibility."

"I wish I hadn't thought it," I said in rueful agreement. "Now, of course, I can think of nothing more likely. It just seems such a Luskanthing to do. And I would truly hate to let Sydney Natale get the last laugh." I rubbed the small of my back. "Her damned assassins backstabbed me three times while I was killing her. Zhjaeve spent the entire fight keeping me healed up. It made me mad as fire."

"Was your little sorceress of much use?"

"Oh, ye gods, I feel lucky to still have my eyebrows," I said. "She killed her share but her control—well, she was terribly distracting. We will not be bringing Qara tomorrow. She and Zhjaeve can rest. Zhjaeve will probably be up most of the night scribing." The True Names were long. Really, really long—I'd never seen anything like it. A name should be short—like Jess.

"You should get some rest too."

The tension between us, which had never been nonexistent, suddenly ratcheted up a very large notch. I could feel the heat start to build under my skin.

"Yes," I said but I looked at Ammon and I didn't get up. Because I had spent the whole day (during the times when no one was trying to kill me) wondering why in the Nine Hells I hadn't taken him up on his offer the night before. And now I was wondering if this wasn't a good time to ask for a second chance. And I was wondering if I had the nerve to say anything at all, and if so, what response I might get.

Also I was wondering where I had put the contraceptive potion that Zhjaeve had given me.

I was pretty sure that at least some of these thoughts were showing on my face, judging by the sudden amusement shining in Ammon's eyes. He leaned forward and I guess I did too because suddenly our faces were quite close together. My heart began to race with that same excited yet sick sensation I had felt when I finally reached the lair high on Mount Galardrym and caught my first glimpse of a real, live dragon—and realized that it planned on killing and eating me, and not necessarily in that order.

"Jess," he said. "Tomorrow we face a shadow reaver. You should go get some rest." His hand brushed against my fingers on the table. His voice dropped to little more than a whisper. "There will be other nights."

So I went off to my bed like a good little Knight-Captain, alone. If the shadow reaver ended up killing me tomorrow, I was going to come back and haunt the damned warlock. And I was going to be one pissed-off ghost.