Chapter 8…One Reaver Down

The True Name worked—eventually.

It took Ammon an endlessly long time to read it out, a time where the rest of us—me, Casavir, Khelgar, Bishop, and Elanee—were pressed by relentless blade golems, by creepy shadows that drained our vitality, and of course by their master, the shadow reaver himself. He had lunged towards Ammon the moment the warlock had began reciting from the scroll and it fell to me to hold him off while he was invulnerable.

Knight-Captain is a really fun job.

The reaver fought with a scythe that was brutally difficult to block, particularly since I don't use a shield. I had to rely on my spells to protect me. Casavir and Khelgar were busy with the golems since their hammers seemed much more effective against the constructs than swords. Bishop had dropped his bow for his blades and was fighting near Elanee, killing shadows and covering her when she needed to cast a healing or protection spell on one of us. (Protecting the group's main healer was as close to selfless service as could be expected from Bishop.) She had summoned various beasts of the forest to our aid but they hadn't lasted long.

I had enhanced my strength but my haste spell had worn off and it was all I could do to hold the reaver in check. I didn't bother trying to counter his attacks since he seemed to heal faster than I could hit him. The reaver had about chipped my last stoneskin off and when it was gone, I was going to be in trouble. I had a couple of other protections ready but it didn't look like he was going to take a breather anytime soon so I could cast them. I hate opponents who don't breathe. If I ran to safety, he'd be on Ammon in a heartbeat and I couldn't let that happen. It wasn't like Ammon could stop in mid-recitation so he could get his own protections up.

Hells, hells, hells.

"Read faster, Ammon," I shouted. The reaver tried to move past me to attack the warlock and again, I held him off. Ammon didn't reply (which was just as well) nor did he seem to recite any faster but his voice took on a more deeply irritated tone. So at least he'd heard me.

Khelgar let out an enormous yell. He had brought down one of the blade golems. My eyes only flicked away for the briefest moment but that was enough. The shadow reaver hit me with stunning force and my stoneskin crumbled away. I didn't actually feel any pain from the wound in my thigh, and that was bad. Also it is not exactly a sign of good health when blood sprays out of your body. I fell to the ground, helpless, unable to move or cast a spell or even come up with any memorable last words.

As I waited for death I was vaguely aware of Elanee shouting behind me. The reaver readied his scythe and then stopped. Although his bone box of a face didn't seem capable of showing much in the way of emotion, he cocked his head in the simulation of surprise. Then I became aware of something forming around me, like a thick wet blanket.

I was surprised too.

It wrapped around my feet, my legs, and my torso with dizzying speed. Finally even my face was covered and then the—whatever it was—hardened. I couldn't move, I couldn't see, I could barely hear or even breathe. It was terrifying. Somehow I hadn't expected death to be quite so weird and sticky.

If I could have spoken, I would have shrieked when something slammed into my side. Thud. Thud. My dawdling brain finally realized that I was inside one of Elanee's healing cocoon spells and the shadow reaver was trying to cut his way through the casing that bound and protected me.

Even through the cocoon, I could feel the crackle of Ammon's eldritch blast pass over me in a surge of tingling energy. I hoped that meant that he had finished his recitation of the name. I fought to get free from the cocoon but it held me tight, and I totally missed the triumphant end of the battle. I did manage to scrape the gunk off my face in time to watch Ammon loot the reaver's body and find another shard from the Sword of Gith. Why the shadow reaver was carrying it was a question which he was too dead to answer. Ammon suggested he might have been using it to track the location of the other shards.

"Thanks," I told Elanee. "I didn't think I was going to survive that time." I nobly refrained from complaining (since her spell had saved my life) but I was pretty sure the gooey remains of the cocoon would never come out of my robe and it was one of my favorites.

"I will do my best to protect you at all times," she said seriously. "Remember that I am always watching you."

I believe that was meant to be reassuring but it left me shaking my head.

"Why is it so important to you to know who put the glyph on your bed?" Ammon asked. We were sitting in his workroom in the basement of Crossroad Keep. We had killed a shadow reaver, recovered a shard, and I had managed to wash the cocoon gunk out of my hair. So overall I was having a good day. All I wanted to do now was avoid any more hearty congratulations from my friends and retainers. Because we had killed one shadow reaver—one—and it had been difficult. And I didn't want to think about how many more we had ahead of us.

As it turned out, the basement was one of the most private areas in the entire keep because almost everyone wished to avoid two of the denizens who lurked there: Grobnar and Kistrel. For that matter, I don't suppose that many people came seeking out Ammon Jerro himself. And the summoning circle on the floor, souvenir of Black Garius' occupation of the keep, made most folks rather uneasy. Hells, it made me uneasy and I was planning on using it.

"But…it was an act of deliberate malice. Don't you think we ought to know who did it?" Ammon shrugged.

"You have enemies. I have enemies. What difference does it make, which enemy was responsible, so long as we guard against future attacks?"

"Yet it seems such a personal thing to do. And what is the purpose of sending me, um, erotic dreams?"

"I suspect it was meant to be more than that," he said.

"Like what?" He gave me a look. Oh. "You mean that succubus was supposed to actually have sex with me?"

"That is what I mean," he said. Yikes. He didn't smile but his eyes were laughing at me.

"But why?"

"The succubus would then have power over you. There are many who will wish to have control over you, Jess. You are a creature of destiny."

I made a face. That sounded even worse than being called a hero, which was bad enough. I spent a few moments absorbing the full unpleasantness of this thought.

"Would Mephasm know who had put that glyph on my bed?"

"He might. You propose to bargain with the devil?" Ammon asked skeptically.

"I was just going to ask him."

"Do you think he will simply give this knowledge away?"

"Why not? He was quite polite when I met him at the githyanki lair. And he seemed pretty grateful when I released him from their circle. So…he owes me a favor. Right? Isn't that how it's done?"

Ammon didn't exactly roll his eyes but the look he gave me came across like he had.

"You know little of dealing with his kind."

"Well, yeah. I'm aware of that. That's why I thought you might help me."

He gave me another look but after a bit of nagging, he did agree to help me prepare the summoning circle.

"You do realize that Mephasm is not the devil's true name," Ammon told me, as I got ready to start the summoning. I froze.

"He told me it was," I said. "I used it to banish him in the githyanki cave." Ammon gave me that look again. "Well, do you know his true name?"

"Not in its entirety."

"I thought he was your ally. I thought you guys were pals or something."

"I had a bargain with him," he said coldly. "You helped him break it. We were never 'pals'."

"So I'm totally wasting my time here?"

"Yes." He stared right at me. His gaze didn't shift, his eyes didn't blink, but I knew he was being evasive.

"Ammon," I said warningly. "Are you telling me a fib?" His eyes were still cold but he relented slightly.

"The name he gave you is a portion of his true name. You can use it to command his attention. It will be his choice to heed your summons and you will have no power over him, although the summoning circle will give you some slight protection from him—if you make no errors in its use." His tone was even more discouraging than his words.

"So you don't think I should try this."

"It is ill-advised."

So of course I did it anyway.

Mephasm made us wait. I wondered if there was a calculation he ran—too short a time and we might think him anxious—too long a time and we might give up. I'd spent enough time in Nasher's court to be familiar with this little game. I sat cross-legged on the floor and meditated on the new spell Sand was trying to teach me. I thought it would look rather rude if I read one of Grobnar's books (he had an astonishing collection) or wandered around the room muttering to myself like Ammon was doing.

"I told you we would meet again."

Startled, I leapt to my feet, or rather, stumbled to my knees. Mephasm didn't precisely smile but he did look a bit smug. He stood before me, tall and imposing, yet also somehow exuding an air of approachability, like some wise and powerful yet benevolent uncle. I knew I should be terrified of him. Ammon had reminded me that he was a pit fiend, and a viciously strong one at that. I knew his stately appearance was a total lie but, by Mystra, it was a beautifully crafted lie.

"It's good to see you again," I said. He and Ammon eyed each other. They made extremely neutral nods to each other at precisely the same moment.

"What is it that you seek from me, Jess Farlong?" Mephasm asked.

I didn't have an opening speech prepared so it seemed best to just jump right in.

"Someone inscribed the glyph of the succubus Hatsou on my bed," I said. "I'd like to know who did it and why."

"You seek information."

"Yes." I was pretty sure I had just said that.

"And what do you offer?"

I blinked at him.

"Um, my good will?"

Mephasm turned his head to look at Ammon and raised one brow. I wondered if that was where Ammon got the trick.

"I am not involved in this," Ammon said, crossing his arms over his chest and generally broadcasting an air of unhelpful distance. The devil turned back to me.

"Then let me inform you that your good will is of little value to me, Jess Farlong."

He'd sure sung a different tune when he was trapped in the githyankis' base, tortured by succubi, begging me to release him. There's gratitude for you.

"I've helped you twice now."

"And both times, I repaid your aid with information. I acknowledge no debt between us."

The devil's eyes, still filled with that disarming politeness, watched me intently. I think this was the part where I was supposed to ask him what he wanted and he would mention some harmless little task he'd like done. And everything would go downhill from there. I held no illusions that I could outmaneuver Mephasm, who'd no doubt been making contracts with mortals for more years than I'd drawn breaths. No thanks.

"Oh. Okay then. Sorry for bothering you." I approached the circle so I could banish him. Before I could speak, he interrupted.

"You do, however, possess something of some slight value that appears to be of little use to you. Perhaps we can Deal."

Mephasm came closer, to the very edge of the summoning circle. I stepped closer as well. He leaned towards me, his voice quiet and intimate. His air of wise benevolence grew suspiciously stronger.

"There are those who place a value on the virginity of a hero," he said. "More precisely, there is a value to the taking of the virginity of a hero. You should consider trading this asset instead of simply gifting it away." At this, his eyes slid to Ammon. Nine Hells, was Mephasm spying on me too? Didn't I get enough of that from Elanee?

"Trade my virginity? Are you suggesting that I sleep with you?" I was afraid that I could hide neither my astonishment nor my revulsion at this thought. Although Mephasm was easy on the eyes and spoke nicely enough, the thought of having sex with a pit fiend was far from appealing.

Plus, there was the smell. The smell was a problem.

Mephasm held up one elegant hand.

"Not with me personally," he said. For all I knew, he felt the same revulsion I did, but if so he hid it better. "I could, however, broker a Deal." He gave me a wise and benevolent smile.

Wow, he must really think I had just fallen off the turnip wagon. I knew I was just a West Harbor hick but I was more than a little tired of being patronized. I got enough of that from Sir Nevalle, Neeshka and Ammon. Hells, even Elanee was condescending sometimes and she was so naïve that she hadn't even known what money was when I first met her.

Just as I opened my mouth to ask if I looked stupid or desperate enough to sell off my own virginity to some infernal creature, Mephasm added smoothly, "It can be a most pleasant experience. There is much to be gained for so small a cost. You might ask Ammon Jerro if he was satisfied with the bargain he made himself, so many years ago. He seemed pleased enough at the time."

I turned and stared at Ammon. His face darkened with anger.

"Curse you, Mephasm, shut your mouth or…"

Mephasm raised his hand again.

"You did not summon me here, Ammon Jerro, and you have no power over me now."

The look the two exchanged told me that Ammon had not been exaggerating when he had told me that they were not pals.

"Well, thanks for your time, Mephasm," I said quickly, and prepared to end the summoning. "I will, um, think about your offer. I think we're done for now."

The little bow he gave me was just polite enough that I couldn't tell if it was meant to be ironic. It probably was. And then he was gone, leaving a mild stench behind and a lot of questions.