Cep bowed his head. Restrained, there was nothing else he could do. He hadn't known Cricket well, but he had respected him. Now, few were left who could oppose Rebus, he feared. Before him, Aeryn drew back, feeling, even though her time in the Thread had been short, that something important had shifted.
Asharak appeared nearby, clad in dark, tight robes. At his waist, strapped on by a belt, hunt a katana lined in silver, the space around it seeming to warp and shift, so that the sword appeared to jump around. He simply stood to the side, and bowed his head.
Next to him, Dark Cep appeared. His form, in a dark knee-length coat cut back in the front, was smoky, insubstantial, as he had no ability to bring him physically there. Nonetheless, he, too, bowed his head.
Next to them appeared a silhouette, which appeared two-dimensional no matter which way it was viewed from. It was of a relatively tall man, with a mop of curly hair. He, too, bowed his head.