Her son settled and she felt him grow calm. As her fear for him subsided she turned her focus to the wound on her side. She could see the magic now, black vile threads that pierced her flesh in thousands of places. Cursing herself once again for not noticing it sooner she began to slowly pluck the threads from her one by one only to see three more take their place. Pulling her remaining magic back once more she focused on the magic itself trying to find a starting point for unraveling the spell. The threads surged again and more tiny strands of darkness latched onto her skin spreading the corruption farther.
Pulling on Marrow’s strength once more she tried simply to contain the magic until she could determine how to end it. The black threads wavered in her mind and she began to see the pattern of them. Web after web of darkness surrounded her as if a thousand spiders were weaving a cocoon over her flesh. The magic bore down through her flesh where the threads connected, each strand of darkness seeking a way through the wards protecting her child.
Jala gave a silent snarl of frustration and refocused her magic to block the seeking strands. She simply didn’t have enough power yet to stop the spell. Her son’s only hope now was that she should could keep Death’s touch from him long enough for her own magic to strengthen him enough to live beyond her broken body. Be strong. Grow, Jala repeated, sending more magic to the child within her. Time lost all meaning to her as her entire mind was devoted to halting the webs of Death’s magic and feeding her strength to her child.
The brush of icy water drew Jala’s attention partially back from her constant battle with Death. She felt cloth on her skin once more and the sensation infuriated her. She couldn’t afford to spare attention for the sunlit world right now.
“They say it is a good sign that you still live,” Wisp’s voice was low and filled with misery. “I wish you would just open your eyes though. I am so terrified for you. Marrow is wasting away just as you are and I feel like I am watching you both die. I feel so helpless right now, Jala. Please tell me what to do.”
“Careful Wisp, don’t get too close to her. She is fever mad right now and she can siphon. Marrow is being drained, that’s why he looks like that. She spent half of the night muttering about spiders and she has been tossing and turning all morning. When the fever passes and her mind clears, she will be safe to approach again,” Sovann warned softly.
Ignore them. Focus. I am fine. It takes more than you to kill a Bendazzi, Marrow growled as her attention moved from the threads of dark magic to the words being spoken above her.
Jala nodded inwardly to the Bendazzi and turned back to the threads once more. She had managed to sort them finally and knew each spell for what it was. There wasn’t enough strength to break them all though, and after Sovann’s words she feared drawing more power from Marrow. Her mind brushed against the magic as she tested its strength once more and she felt the faintest touch of another mind. Cautiously she pressed farther and slowly realized what she was sensing, Death herself. Jala froze. Her touch on the threads was as still as stone. If Death sensed her presence, she gave no indication. The Divine’s mind seemed fully focused on her magics and the weaving of more strands.
Jala pushed her awareness slowly along the threads of magic, her mind constantly watching Death’s progress for any sign that the Divine had noticed her. The weave of magic ended at Death herself and Jala could see the countless threads that covered the Divine clearly. Not all of them led back to her however, and she began to slowly trace the other strands trying to sense their purpose. A smile began to form in her mind as she recognized protection spells and then her mind brushed a thread that was so painful she almost lost all focus. She could feel Finn through that strand. Lightly she brushed against the magic once more and felt the iron control Death kept upon him. It was no wonder Finn’s willpower had not been enough. The Divine was directing so much focus to controlling him that Jala was amazed she had magic left to spare for anything else. Forcing herself to continue, Jala brushed against strand after strand of magic, some leading to people, others to the Demons of the Darklands. The sheer amount of power the Divine held was staggering. Jala had thought she was powerful until now. If she could only redirect some of her strength to here she could severe these threads and force Death’s attention back from her. That would mean risking her child, though, and he wasn’t yet strong enough.
“What are you doing back here? There is nothing more that you can do and you are swaying on your feet.” Neph’s voice echoed as if he stood a thousand miles away, but she heard each word clearly.
“Has she improved?” Valor’s voice was slurred and the words clumsy, but hope surged in her chest at the sound of it. Valor would help her and she knew it.
“You are drunk, Valor, and I won’t have you hovering over her. In your state you are likely to fall on her,” Neph growled in response.
Cautiously, Jala edged back up the strands of magic toward the voices. “Snarly, grumbly, gruff, Neph. Shh,” she mumbled her divided focus made spoken words nearly impossible.
“Jala!” Wisp gasped and she felt the Fae pull back with her damned cold cloth. “She spoke did you hear her? That wasn’t fever ramblings. She clearly told Neph to shut up,” Wisp called to the others in the room.
“Jala, can you hear us?” Sovann asked softly but Jala ignored him. As much as she wanted to reassure her friends she couldn’t spare the strength for more words than she absolutely had to speak.
“Valor, I need help. All of me goes to him and there is nothing left to stop the damned weaving,” Jala gasped and struggled weakly to pull her hand from under the mountain of blankets that covered her.
“Valor, you idiot she is fever mad. She could drain you dry and kill you,” Neph snapped.
“She asked me for help and I won’t refuse her,” Valor mumbled his voice thick and hard to understand.
“Would you say the same sober? This might be your death, Valor,” Sovann spoke gently.
“Twice as loudly and without the slur,” Valor replied as he freed her hand from the tangle of blankets and wrapped his around it in a firm grip. “Take whatever you need, Jala. Squish whatever spiders you keep muttering about,” he urged her. The smell of alcohol wafted from him so strongly that her stomach roiled, but the strength and warmth of his hand was a lifeline that she couldn’t ignore.
“Valor, you are an idiot. You aren’t even a mage. Your reserves are too low for this even when she is thinking clearly,” Neph protested and she felt Valor jerk slightly and knew the Delvay was trying to pull him away.
Valor’s hand tightened further, though not hard enough to bring pain. “If I die, so be it. I’ll call it a good death if she lives. Her life is far more valuable than mine, so back off Neph. There is an entire country out there waiting for her. I have a bottle waiting for me.”
“And three hundred bloody knights that I don’t want to command if you die. Not to mention your niece,” Neph snapped.
“Bridgette is better fit for the job anyway and Devony would be better for not learning from me,” Valor replied with a faint chuckle and leaned closer to Jala, his whiskey-laced breath cool on her cheek. “Hurry up, Jala, before Neph’s bitching does me in and the opportunity is wasted.”
Cautiously, Jala brushed against Valor’s magic to test his reserves and found more than she could have possibly hoped for. His reservoir brimmed though part of it seemed locked away somehow behind a barrier that didn’t seem to be magical at all. The magic locked there glowed with such vibrancy that she flinched away and refocused on the barrier. With gentle brushes she pushed against it willing it away so she could reach the formidable power it held. The barrier resisted her touch and Jala pushed with more force and insistence. A trickle of his power brushed against her and her hopes rose further. With another strong nudge, Jala forced the barrier fully open and Valor’s innermost reserves washed over her like a flood. Magic hummed in her veins and she reveled in the ecstasy of it. Faintly she heard Valor let out a gasp and she pulled herself back once m
ore taking care to not drain more than she had to. She would not kill Valor any more than she would allow her child to die.
Jala squeezed his hand in thanks and turned her mind inward, searching once more for Death’s foul magic. The webs of magic blazed clearly in her mind as Valor’s power surged through her. Moving with sure confidence she crossed through the strands once more and began sorting through the webs of magic that cloaked Death like a second skin.
She paused as she found the strand the held Finn so tightly in check and brushed lightly against it once more. She felt a stir through the magic and the faintest hint of Finn’s mind. I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough, Finn. I tried, I really did. I am strong enough to help you with this, though, Jala sent the whisper as subtly as she could through the strand, but despite her attempt at stealth she felt Death’s awareness shift inward. Death slowed in her weaving of spells and Jala could feel the Divine searching for her.
The time for stealth was gone. She had moments before the Divine found her and she wasn’t sure if she could win without surprise on her side. Drawing her power closer to her, Jala focused on the strands of magic that branched from the Divine to so many people and severed them in one swift blow. Without pause she slashed the threads holding the Demons under Death’s power and felt Death lurch in surprise and then her rapidly growing fear.
Quickly, Jala began to retreat back toward her own body, her mind changing and shifting the webs of dark magic as she went. She twisted the last web as her mind settled in her own skin and sent the transformed spells crashing back toward their creator.
It was Neph that had shown her how close a healing spell was to a death spell, and it was a healing spell that she had cast on Death in the Darklands that had destroyed her hand. That was the nature of opposing magic. With most magic the reaction of opposite powers wasn’t so severe, but when you combined positive spells of healing with the negative spells of necromancy the results were catastrophic. Death had written her own destruction without even realizing it, simply by wrapping herself in so much dark magic. Jala’s only regret was that she had no way of seeing just how catastrophic the cocoon of healing she had sent back to Death would be.
Letting out a long breath she let her mind brush across her child and found him peaceful and content. A faint smile brushed her lips despite her fatigue and sorrow. Slowly she forced herself back to the sunlit world and her eyes fluttered open. Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window momentarily blinding her and then the world slowly returned to focus. Valor still sat beside the bed his hand still gripping hers and his dark blue eyes intent on her face.
“That’s three times now that you have helped me when no one else in their right mind would be willing to,” Jala whispered.
“My father chose the name Valor instead of Wisdom for a reason. He always said I had more balls than brains,” Valor whispered back with a faint smile. He squeezed her hand lightly and then slowly released it. “I’ll be there every time you need help, Jala. I don’t keep count. I simply listen for the request,” he added softly, the slur still present in his voice. With a faint bow of his head he stood shakily and started to head to the door.
“In that case, Valor,” Jala called weakly and he stopped and looked back at her. “The bottle that waits for you will have to wait longer. I don’t have time to grieve and you don’t have time to drink. I need an army, Valor, and I depend on you to build it.”
It was a struggle to sit up but she forced herself to do so, her gaze slowly moving around the room to each of her friends. Aside from Valor, they all wore expressions of shock, but it was Wisp that broke from the trance first. With a gasp of delight, the Fae rushed toward the bed and wrapped Jala in a hug that nearly sent her crawling back for the safety of the blankets.
“I can’t believe it! Your fever is gone are you truly feeling well enough to sit up?” Wisp asked, her hand moving from Jala’s forehead to her cheeks.
“I don’t feel like moving much more than I have, but yes, sitting up is fine for now,” Jala replied calmly, though in truth she was gaining strength with each breath. With the borrowed power and Death’s spells sundered, healing herself was no longer a difficulty, and her spells were already fast at work on doing so.
“You want me to build an army from what we have out there?” Valor asked as he moved back toward the bed.
“To start with and then add to it with what we bring back when I free Goswin from the curse,” Jala replied, her eyes watching Valor’s expression as it shifted from disbelief to dismay.
“I have a very large collection of thieves, whores, gutter rats, and cowards and that’s not even touching on the dysfunctional lot of knights that I’m supposed to be commanding,” Valor continued, his hand waving toward the window as he spoke.
“And I have at least four nations that will want Merro to fall. I need an army, Valor. Try to look at what they could be instead of what they were. This is a new start for all of us. Give them a chance,” Jala pressed. She brushed a strand of curls back from her face and forced him to meet her eyes. “If you listened to the talk in Sanctuary, I’m no more than a peasant whore. Yet you gave me a chance to prove myself otherwise.”
“She got you by the balls there,” Neph said with a smirk. The Delvay settled back against the wall and crossed his arms over his broad chest watching Valor with amusement on his features. Of all of her friends, Neph appeared to be the best rested and least troubled. His blue eyes were bright and his clothing was fresh. The others in the room didn’t look in nearly that good of condition. Even Wisp had the dark circles under her eyes and pale skin that spoke of too little rest.
“Where we have thieves we could train rangers. The whores could be spies. The gutter rats, well I don’t know anything with survival skills like a gutter rat. I swear those children could survive in any terrain or circumstance,” Sovann offered with a shrug.
“You did just say you would be there any time she asked for help,” Wisp pointed out in a calm practical voice.
“I said to help, not grant bloody miracles,” Valor grumbled, but his expression was growing more thoughtful and less frantic. He turned and looked out the window once more and rubbed his chin. “There are a few that I might be able to do something with. My knights I can handle. I simply haven’t had the will to attempt it yet. My mind was more focused on the fact that you appeared to be dying,” he mused.
“I wasn’t dying. I was simply taking a vacation from good health,” Jala said with a slight shrug. “I wouldn’t ask you for a miracle if I didn’t think you could grant it, Valor.”
“You are quite possibly the only one that has that kind of faith in me anymore, Jala.” Valor’s eyes locked onto hers once more and he shook his head slowly in amazement.
“I know you better than they do, Valor. I’ve seen what you are capable of,” Jala replied, her voice holding a note of respect that was audible to all in the room. Valor watched her for a moment in silence and then moved to stand at the window, his back to them all. Slowly, Jala looked around the room once more and frowned as she noticed the missing faces. “Where are Jail, Madren, and Emily?” she asked.
“Jail is babysitting the other two for the time being. We didn’t want to let Madren in here until you were strong enough to smack him and we were afraid Emily would suffer Marrow’s fate,” Neph explained, his eyes flicking to the Bendazzi’s limp form beside her.
Jala frowned and ran a hand down Marrow’s back nodding slightly. “I wish I hadn’t had to drain him so much, but I was too weak to do what needed to be done alone.” Her spells of healing were already at work on the Bendazzi and he was sleeping peacefully now. He had earned the rest with his diligence of guarding her, but to the others he must appear to be on the verge of dying.
“You will explain what exactly it was that you did won’t you?” Sovann asked with a curious light in his eyes.
“I will, but later. For right now there are a few things I would like to cover and then if it’s not too much to ask I�
��d like to have private words with Valor and then rest,” Jala said, her gaze once again traveling over their faces. Jala had been half afraid her words would offend them, but there was no indication to show that they had. She felt a pang of regret that she had to send them away. She knew they wouldn’t accept what she had to do, though, so she had no choice.
“Well then, what do you want to cover? Best to get it out of the way. You likely do need your rest,” Sovann said quickly. Of all of them he looked the most exhausted and she could see grief written clearly in his features. He was doing a very good job of keeping it from his voice though. She wondered briefly how much he blamed her for Finn’s loss, but quickly pushed the thought away. She could focus on that pain later when she was alone. For now it was best to try not to think of Finn and her failure. There were so many things that she needed to do. Her grief would have to wait for now.
“Where do we stand, population wise? Do we have enough food? How is morale in the city?” Jala asked.
“About nine thousand, not including the bitches in plate mail. We have enough food if we continue to ration it but it’s mostly grains and it’s a poor diet. Morale is rather low. Most want to go back to Sanctuary. It’s all they have ever known and there is security in what is familiar. That, and with the condition you arrived in, most of them think you are dead or dying. Not much point in living in Merro without a Merrodin leading, eh?” Neph answered, his words as usual were blunt and clear spoken.
“The problem with the food is fairly easy to explain. I’ve restored most of the surrounding land, but that’s soil and plants. I can’t do anything about the wildlife that should be here. If we had the animals we could hunt to supplement, but I can’t create them as I do trees and grass. So we are left with buying our goods from the Greenwild and they don’t have much to spare,” Wisp said with a sigh. The Fae dropped down lightly on the edge of Jala’s bed and frowned. “We bought most of grains from Brannaford, but the merchant we purchased it from mixed sawdust in with some of the bags to make it stretch farther. Then Neph went to visit him and now he won’t talk to us again. So we are on rations until we find another source.”
The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes Page 18
