The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams

by Melissa Myers

  “No, not really,” Jala answered and let out a heavy sigh.

  “Wisp quit molesting my brother!” she heard Finn call loudly inside.

  “Dirty child molesting Fae!” Valor echoed.

  “No, I really find it quite hard to believe. One would think they would be more mature,” Jala said shaking her head.

  “You married him,” Neph pointed out, glancing toward her.

  “Quite happily, and I love him despite his faults. Neither of which means I have to approve of everything he does,” Jala replied and moved toward the building as the sound of commotion inside grew.

  “I really can’t imagine that either Wisp or Sovann is going to be in a very good mood,” Neph warned as he followed her up the stairs.

  “I really can’t say that I blame them,” Jala responded lightly and shrugged. “I suppose we will do what we can to soothe them.”

  A loud crash of something breaking echoed from an inner room and Jala frowned. “Damn Sovann must be pissed,” she whispered to Neph.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Valor’s voice echoed back to them as another crash sounded from the room beyond.

  “I think we have misunderstood the situation,” Neph muttered as he quickened his pace toward the door ahead.

  “Oh Fortune,” Jala gasped as she ran after Neph.

  “Look out!” Neph bellowed, pushing her aside as the door in front of them exploded. Valor tumbled past them rolling to a stop amidst the debris of the door. He rose quickly to his feet, his sword still clenched in his hand and blood pouring from one side of his face. With a muttered oath, he rushed back into the room, sword held at the ready. Neph moved to follow, keeping Jala behind him. The room beyond was pitch black with sounds of movement echoing off the walls.

  “I can’t see a fucking thing in here Finn,” Valor called from nearby. “Where is it?” he asked.

  “Dead I think. Neph give us some light,” Finn called back, his voice softer.

  Neph muttered quietly beside Jala and a soft blue light began to grow in the room. Finn stood by a back wall his swords still in hand. A mangled form lay before him, nearly cut in two. Cautiously Jala stepped into the room and glanced down as dampness soaked through her shoes. Fearing the worst she examined the pool and let out a sigh of relief as she realized it was wine.

  “Busted vat,” Neph said, quietly motioning to an Essence wine vat that lay on its side along the wall.

  “What happened?” Neph asked Valor who stood closer, dabbing a cautious hand at the cut on his head.

  “We followed the noises and came in here. Barely got the door open before that thing sprang on us,” Valor explained, motioning toward the unmoving form.

  Jala glanced toward Finn and then around the room. “Where are Wisp and Sovann?” she asked quietly, her throat clenching as her imagination raced with possibilities.

  “I don’t know,” Finn said quietly and looked toward the far side of the room. “I don’t know who that is but she is too big to be Wisp,” He said quietly motioning toward a body.

  Jala followed his gaze and her eyes lingered on the woman’s body. She hadn’t noticed it when they had first entered the room. Moving slowly she approached it more to assure herself that it was not, in fact, Wisp. Finn moved to join her and knelt beside the body. Claw marks gouged both of the woman’s sides with deep rents along her hips. Her eyes were closed and her mouth slightly parted. What remained of her clothing hung off of her in ragged shreds but beneath it Jala could see a faint rise and fall of her chest.

  “She is still alive,” she whispered to Finn.

  “Barely. Her name is Isador. She is Fionaveir. I recognize her now,” Finn said with a shake of his head. With one hand he flipped the remains of her dress away from her left arm showing Jala the tell-tale tattoos there. “I have no idea what she was doing here, though.”

  Kneeling beside Finn, Jala carefully placed a hand on the woman’s chest and called on the healing magic. Warmth flowed through her hand and into the body below. She closed her eyes and focused on the wounds, sending her power into every tear and urging it to heal.

  “I’m going to check the rest of the building for Sovann,” Valor said grimly and headed for the hallway.

  “Take Neph with you,” Finn ordered glancing over his shoulder as they left the room. He looked back to Jala as she slowly moved her hand from Isador’s chest. Chewing on her lower lip she met his eyes. “I take it this is what you wanted to warn us about? That Emily isn’t the only Blight in the city?” he asked quietly.

  She nodded silently and leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. “I’m so glad you didn’t listen to me about coming back tomorrow. If you had she might be dead now,” she whispered, wrapping an arm through his.

  He shifted himself, carefully adjusting his balance and gave a slight nod. “If anything has happened to my brother, I’ll hunt every one of the little bastards down,” he said, his voice a low growl.

  “Fortune, I hope they are all right,” she said, her concern for her friends growing by the second. “I wish she would wake up. Maybe she knows where they are,” she added, glancing down at the still form of the Fionaveir. Frowning, she looked up from the woman to Finn and raised an eyebrow. “How did you know who she was?” she asked quietly.

  “She introduced herself to me when you were still living in Shade’s hall. It was a brief meeting and more of a warning to me. About Cassia, that is,” he explained and shook his head slightly. “I didn’t realize she was still in the city, though, and I have no idea why she was here. This makes no sense,”

  The sound of approaching footsteps drew both of their attention to the door. “There is no sign of anyone else in the house,” Valor said as he stepped through the doorway. “Neph contacted Sovann through a link. He and Wisp were apparently working on another building, an orphanage or something. They are on their way here now,” He moved closer as he spoke and removed what remained of his cloak. “Here, you can cover her with this,” he offered, handing the cloak over to Jala.

  She nodded silently and draped the cloak across Isador’s still form. Standing slowly, she took hold of Valor’s tunic and gently pulled him toward her. With a critical eye, she examined the wound on the side of his face and plucked a splinter of wood from it drawing a sharp gasp from the knight. “Let me heal that,” she said as he started to pull away.

  “It’s nothing, head wounds always bleed a lot,” he objected.

  “Let me heal it anyway,” she insisted, tugging more firmly on his shirt. With a sigh, he bent closer and allowed her to place a hand over the wound. She drew carefully on the magic again and mended the cuts, scrapes and bruises as she found them. With a slight nod she released him and glanced at Finn. “Are you hurt?” she asked quietly.

  Looking up, Finn shook his head and held his arm out for her inspection. “It raked me good in the beginning but it’s healed already,” he explained and stood slowly.

  “Wish I healed that fast,” Valor muttered and looked around the room. “All of this damage isn’t from our fight,” He said his eyes lingering on the broken wine vat. “That is going to piss Sovann off. I shudder to think how much money was lost there.”

  “Around two hundred thousand, gold,” Finn muttered, his expression concerned. “Did they say how far away they were from here?” he asked Neph. The mage shook his head and shrugged in response and Finn paced to the window. “Do we know how many of those things are in the city?” he asked, his voice quieter.

  “No,” Jala answered simply and moved to join him. “How did you kill it? No one else can sense them, Finn, only Neph has even known one was present.”

  “Killing is what I do best, Vezradesh,” he said softly, his gaze still searching the street beyond for his little brother.

  Chapter 9

  Fionahold

  Sunlight filtered down from the towering trees, leaving a dappling of shadows across Remedy’s tanned face. He was leaning against a tree, watching her, with a sprig of mint dangl
ing from one corner of his mouth. Symphony moved passed him and lowered herself slowly to the stream bank and pulled her boots off. Setting them off to the side, she dangled her feet into the rushing water and stared down through its depths to the rocks below.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or shall I play the guessing game,” he said at last, when the silence had stretched for several long minutes. “Is the new dress you’ve ordered the wrong shade and won’t match your sword belt properly?” he asked as he dropped down into the grass behind her and chewed on the mint once more. “The sky is too bright, the weather too warm, the breeze not quite breezy enough,” he pressed further.

  “Those sound more like your complaints than mine,” she said softly.

  “I’ll have you know my new dress is a splendid shade and will match my belt perfectly,” he said his tone sounding indignant.

  Glancing over at him she met his smile and rolled her eyes. “The breeze is perfectly fine and I haven’t ordered any dresses for years,”

  “Ahh, it’s the sun then,” he said sagely and shook his fist slowly toward the sky. “Damn you and your brightness,” he said in a dramatic pitch.

  “How about, I’ve lost contact with twenty agents in the past week. The Blights are over-running three countries now and half of the nations look like they are on the brink of war,” she said in exasperation and kicked her foot lightly, sending a spray of water across the stream.

  “Other than the Blights, what’s new?” he asked, his voice gentle.

  “I want a bloodless revolution Remmy,” she said, her voice sounding more like a whine than she cared to admit.

  “I want a lot of things Sym. We don’t always get what we want and we have to make do with what we have,” Remedy replied, plucking the mint from his mouth and tossing it into the stream with distaste. With a heavy sigh, he reached into his pocket and produced a small pack of tobacco and began rolling a cigarette. “Before the Blights, it was the Bendazzi. Remember all of that chaos. It was a mess. And then, of course, there was the serpent outbreak, ughh.” He shook his head and lifted the newly rolled smoke to his lips. “It may come to war Sym. There may not be a damn thing you can do about it, either,”

  “Why does it have to? Why do they have to fight all of the damn time? Aren’t the Blights enough to worry about? I spoke with Kadandelvayan to seek peace, not to get him to call his men. I wanted his vote, not his damn swords,” she snapped and dropped back on the bank to lay flat on her back, her feet still dangling in the water.

  “Are we having a temper tantrum?” Remedy asked, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.

  “No, I would kick more and scream if I were,” she mumbled, her eyes rising to study his face. “I want to do more but I don’t know what to do, Remmy. I want to stop this disaster before it happens. I don’t want people to die for my power,”

  “Don’t let Faramir hear you like this. You will get her started on a rant that lasts for days,” Remedy warned, taking a long drag from the cigarette and exhaling slowly.

  “She is trying to help Oma right now. I’m not supposed to meet with them until later this afternoon,” Symphony explained with another sigh. “So I’m venting to you first,” she added, kicking another spray of water into the air. She watched it idly as it fell back to the stream, and looked back up to his face.

  “Vent away, just don’t expect it to change anything,” he said, calmly tilting his head back to blow smoke rings.

  “What if I set Jala up to die? Maybe I should have just left her in Bliss,” Symphony said softly and closed her eyes.

  “The temple in Bliss is gone. Not sure who did it, but everyone there is dead,” Remedy replied and Symphony’s eyes flashed open once more. Seeing her expression, he shrugged. “I heard about it yesterday. I thought you knew. I think everyone believes it was Avanti’s work but no one knows for sure,” he added.

  “They could have found out who she really is. Has she been warned?” Symphony shook her head in frustration and sat up, turning to look at him. “She isn’t ready yet, Remmy, she doesn’t have a chance.”

  “She has surrounded herself with some rather formidable people Sym. I’m sure she will be fine. Personally, I’m more worried about the Blight infestation than I am about the welfare of the Merrodin girl,” he said with a shrug.

  “That’s because the Merrodin girl’s life hasn’t been drastically altered for your own purposes. Lutheron has maneuvered her like a puppet for me, Remmy. Anything that happens to her is my fault,” she said, her voice strained.

  “We have maneuvered quite a few people for you Sym. If this is going to work, we have to. Not all of them will survive to the end. I hope the girl does, but face it, if it comes to war she likely won’t. We are banking on her vote at the council, not her fighting skills,” he replied, trying to soften the words with his tone.

  “How are we any better than them?” Symphony asked, her voice filled with disgust.

  “Because we are out for the welfare of the whole and they are out for their own self interests,” he replied. “Because we try to help people and they help themselves. Because we seek to find peace and they breed war and intrigue. Do I need to go on?”

  “No, it just feels like I’m acting like one of them,” Symphony sighed and lowered her head.

  “You aren’t. They wouldn’t be worried in the slightest about the impending disaster. Go ahead scry on any one of them. I promise you they aren’t concerned at all,” he said. motioning with one hand toward Morcath and Avanti.

  “If it comes to war. will we win?” she asked softly. her eyes slowly rising to meet his.

  “You are the one that has been trained for war. You tell me,” he replied softly.

  “Before the Blights, it would have been close. With the Blights tying up Glis and Arovan, I don’t think we will,” she answered quietly.

  “Well, there you have it then,” he replied, taking another long drag from the cigarette and holding her gaze. “That doesn’t change anything, though. We have come too far to back down now. This is the only chance we will get, so let’s pray to a few Aspects that you are wrong.”

  “I do just about every day,” she whispered and turned her gaze back to the water once more. A faint reflection of herself caught her gaze for a moment and she studied the dark circles under her eyes and the disarray of her hair. “I look like my mother did before the fall of Merrodin. I remember her praying nightly and losing sleep.”

  “Your mother was a priestess. She was supposed to pray nightly,” Remedy replied quietly.

  “I remember her telling me that everything would get better and that all I had to do was pray and Fortune would provide,” she whispered softly.

  “And he did. Because of him the Merrodin girl survived and we have a slim chance of getting this done through votes. You have to learn to find the silver lining, Sym. It’s the little miracles we have to treasure,” Remedy said softly.

  “The little miracles,” she repeated quietly and nodded. “Do you think I will make a good leader, Remmy?” she asked after a long moment.

  “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be supporting you Sym. You have been raised for this and you are just having a down moment right now. I know you better. You will bounce back and when it counts you will be there as strong as ever. You don’t have to be strong at this particular moment, so vent and release the frustration,” he answered with a smile.

  Turning back she smiled at him and shook her head softly. “When I’m Empress or Queen or whatever title they stick on me I’m keeping you at my side as an Advisor”

  “And here, I thought we were friends,” Remedy replied with a sigh, allowing his shoulders to slump dramatically. With a smile he winked at her and nodded slightly. “You need me Sym, I’ll be there,” he promised.

  * * *

  Silently, Symphony closed the door behind her and made her way to the sand table. She glanced around the room as she walked, amazed that Faramir was not already here, waiting. Her gaze lingered o
n the dark shadows on the wall and she wondered if she dared a mage light. Magic was forbidden in Fionahold for the most part, but exceptions were made. Chiding herself mentally, she pushed back the urge and rested her arms on the edge of the sand table, staring down at the multi colored grains of sand below. Kiernan’s warning had made her too edgy. She was starting to twitch at shadows now like a half grown child.

  With a wave of her hand, she altered the sand below to mimic the rolling farmland of Arovan along the thickly forested Glis border. Her gut told her the worst of the fighting would be in this region. With a practiced eye she studied the terrain that she already knew by heart and tried to find some further advantage for her allies. Truthfully, though, terrain was little help when you couldn’t see your foes. That was the biggest issue right now, the Blights. She didn’t like to admit how truthful she was with Remedy. If it came to war right now, they would lose. There was no question about it. The Blights simply altered the field too much and they didn’t seem to be affecting the other side, which meant someone, perhaps Myth, was controlling them.

  The sound of the door opening drew her attention and she looked up to see Faramir enter, followed closely by Oma. The girl looked even more pale than usual and kept her gaze on the floor as she walked. “Good afternoon, Faramir. Hello Oma,” Symphony said with a forced smile and pushed back off the table.

  “Symphony, sorry I’m late,” Faramir said in greeting ,and frowned as Oma remained silent. With a slight shrug to Symphony she moved to take the opposite side of the table and looked down at the sand below. “You have come to the same conclusion as me, then,” Faramir said, looking up to Symphony with an approving nod.

  “The worst of it will be there,” Symphony replied motioning toward the sand.

  “Yes it will be. I wish we had the proper techniques for the Blights so we could run a few mock battles, but I’m afraid we don’t know enough about their tactics,” Faramir said with a sigh. “So let’s switch to another terrain and foes we know more about.”