“You are forbidden to use your power to alter the Sunlit world directly. The most you may do is spare a life. I didn’t make those rules, Finn. They are part of the Immortal pact. If you break that pact you jeopardize all of the Divine as well as the Aspects. Do you think they will allow that? They will kill you Finn,” Fiona leaned down closer until their noses nearly touched as she spoke and slowly shook her head at him. “You solved everything in life by fighting, Finn, but this isn’t something you can fight. If you break the pact, you die. It is as simple as that.”
“This is still my son. I will never let go of my former life, and you work for me,” Finn repeated firmly without flinching from her words or the glare she cast him. “Leave me for now Fiona. I’m going to spend what time I have with Legacy. When Seth returns to take him back to the Sunlit world, we will continue the judging of souls. Until then, see that no one disturbs me.”
“You cannot ignore the dead in favor of the living,” Fiona objected, her voice nearly a snarl. “Would you have the Forgotten swell in numbers because you failed to do your duty for the dead?” she demanded.
“I would send every last soul waiting straight to Oblivion for just a taste of my former life. Do not push me, Fiona!” Finn snarled back, his voice taking on the coldness it always did before he killed. A soft whimper from his lap drew his attention back from the fight and his gaze softened as he saw the fear written on his son’s face. “Go, Fiona. I will not tell you again,” he said in a softer voice without bothering to look up at her again.
Smiling, he took the child’s hand carefully and made gentle hushing sounds. He could remember his mother using those noises with Sovann when they were small, and somehow just those simple noises seemed to always work like magic. “You look so much like your mother,” Finn whispered in a soothing voice as he listened to the angry footsteps of the knight as she left the room.
Legacy turned his small head and watched the retreat before turning once more to stare up at his father. Raising his hand up and down, he murmured and slapped lightly at the chair, his violet eyes fixating once more on the carved figures in the wood.
“I meant what I said, Legacy. I don’t know if you can understand fully what I say yet, but I meant it. I will always put you and your mother before all. The laws of the Divine be damned.” Finn spoke softly and smiled again as the child looked up at him with bright eyes and smiled back. He wasn’t sure if his son had truly understood or it was simply a coincidence, but it truly seemed as though the tiny fingers had tightened on his hand at the words.
Chapter 22
Kithvaryn
The journey through the fortress of Kithvaryn seemed more like a death march than a trip to a parlor. Their escort marched them through winding halls and upstairs in complete silence with weapons bared. Jala glanced back toward Sovann once more and frowned. The mage had finally awoken after being drug between two of the guards for most of the way, but he was still too pale. She had tried to heal him but Kithkara wouldn’t allow them to stop for anything.
“Where does he keep his bloody parlor, on the roof?” Valor grumbled as they turned down yet another hallway, their path heading directly for another set of stairs.
“Silence,” Kithkara snapped, her tone as irritable as her expression implied. Jala had no doubts whatsoever that had the woman been given a choice they would have been heading to the gallows instead of the parlor.
“Was he your lover or husband?” Jala asked softly and had to fight back a smile as the woman nearly tripped.
“I said silence,” Kithkara hissed, her grip on Jala’s arm tightening.
“Either way if you want him back then you had better pray for my success with your general,” Jala continued, ignoring the woman’s growing fury completely. With a sigh she began to climb the stairs and wondered if the night would ever be over. Her body ached, her head throbbed and she was more exhausted than she could ever remember being. Even with the rest on the ship and nearly a full day without using any true magic she still hadn’t recovered from her efforts in Goswin.
“He was my son and I do not forgive as easily as his father does,” Kithkara said in a low dangerous voice.
“Not really meaning to insult you by pointing out the obvious, lady, but you do realize Kithkanon died in a duel against Finn, right? Jala had nothing to do with it and your son was the one stupid enough to fight Finn in the first place,” Valor said loudly from behind them on the stairs.
“My son was twice the warrior of that gutter rat exile. Finn cheated in the duel and drew upon magic. That is the only way he could have survived the wounds Kanon dealt him,” Kithkara returned, her voice outraged. Her dark eyes sparkled with malice and Jala could see the faint hint of glassiness that spoke of unshed tears. Slowly she began to realize just how offensive their company must be to everyone on this island. They didn’t just blame Finn for Kithkanon’s death. They blamed everyone he was friends with as well.
“Finn could barely cast a light spell. His proudest accomplishment with magic was figuring out how to cure a hangover. Beyond that he had no use for it. I’m sorry if that was the thin thread that you were clinging to, but you are wrong,” Valor continued in a casual voice despite the growing mutters of anger from their escort.
“Why don’t you just kick them in the balls directly, Valor,” Sovann sighed, his voice sounding as weak as he looked.
“He cheated!” Kithkara repeated her voice nearly a screech as she whirled to face Valor. “And you will not speak ill of the dead. I will not allow it. My son is dead because of you people and you have the nerve to come here? I will see you dead before the sun rises, Arovan. You killed a scout on the beach and that is reason enough for Kithvaryn to spike your head on the battlements.” Whirling once more she faced Jala, her face twisted into a mask of hatred. “And you…” Kithkara began her voice dropping to dangerous tones. “You come here offering me my son back and think I am fool enough to believe it. I will see you die slowly and you will tell me where the cowardly little gutter rat is hiding before you die. I can promise you that.”
“Valor will not die and neither will I, Commander Kithkara. I’m sorry for your loss I truly am. I know how painful it is to lose one you love, but I will not allow you whatever twisted sense of vengeance you believe you will achieve by killing us,” Jala replied calmly. She kept her expression as calm as her words despite the tension of the moment. It wouldn’t take much to provoke Kithkara into a fight. She had seen that much downstairs before Kithvaryn’s intervention.
“I can’t wait to peel that confidence off you,” Kithkara purred as she grabbed Jala’s arm roughly once more and continued up the stairs, nearly dragging Jala behind her as they went.
“I highly suggest you treat Lady Merrodin with more respect,” Valor warned and Jala turned quickly shaking her head at him. His dark blue eyes narrowed slightly and he shook his head at her in defiance.
“Silence,” Kithkara bellowed, her breath coming in uneven gasps.
It was obvious the woman was close to breaking and Jala dreaded even looking at Valor. She wasn’t sure if he was intentionally trying to sabotage her chances or not. Killing the mother of Kithvaryn’s only child would certainly guarantee that no arrangement could be made, and if Valor didn’t stop goading the woman that would be the only choice she had.
A wave of giddy relief washed over Jala as they stopped in front of a door at the top of the stairs and Kithkara pushed her forward. “Wait inside and touch nothing. He will deal with you when he has time,” Kithkara ordered, her voice filled with loathing.
Nodding slowly in understanding Jala pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside the dim lit room, slowly looking around. Maps covered an entire wall, detailing every nation in Sanctuary. On the opposite side of the room stood an enormous bookshelf lined with heavy leather bound volumes and assorted scrolls. Another wall held display racks lined with every type of weapon Jala had ever seen and a few she didn’t even have a name for. The last wall had a small ta
ble with two heavily cushioned chairs. A game board was set on the table and, from the scattered pieces, had recently been used. She didn’t spare time to study it however. Her attention was locked on the man seated at the table. His deep purple eyes regarded her with open amusement. Nodding slowly, Vaze stood and bowed slightly to her. The pale lamplight glinted off his dark grey hair as he moved while his black armor seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. She simply stared at him in silence as she tried to contain her emotions. She wasn’t exactly sure what she felt other than turmoil. Vaze had disappeared from Merro while she was still in her sickbed and the last memories she had of her Uncle were of his sending Finn back to hell and arguing that taking her child might be the best course of action. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what emotions she felt, but none of them were good.
“Jala,” Vaze said in simple greeting as he stood from the bow and dropped lightly back into the chair.
“What are you doing here?” Jala demanded in a low voice.
“The same as you. Attempting to negotiate a deal with the Ten Thousand, I would guess. Although I am rather surprised to see you here, considering…,” Vaze answered, his voice trailing off with the last. He studied her as he spoke and she could see questions that he wasn’t yet voicing.
Jala sighed and nodded slightly before glancing back to Valor and Sovann. Valor had managed to come through their ordeals with the storm and shipwreck and still manage to look presentable. Sovann and she on the other hand must look like bedraggled street orphans. Glancing down at herself, Jala took in the salt stained dress and her bare feet. She couldn’t even remember losing her shoes and hadn’t truly missed them until their long walk up the stone stairs.
Lamely she raised a hand to her hair and tried in vain to bring order to her wine colored curls. Her frown deepened as her hand brushed something and she pulled away a sprig of seaweed. Looking back at her companions she sighed. “Neither of you could spare a moment to tell me I had bloody seaweed in my hair?” she asked her tone one of pure exasperation.
“Hadn’t even noticed it,” Sovann muttered as he moved to a chair and dropped limply into the cushions.
“I found it rather amusing,” Valor replied easily, his gaze on her was anything but sympathetic and Jala couldn’t really blame him. She had earned his anger and she knew it. Between her private dealings with Seravae and their being held prisoner, it was a wonder he was talking with her at all.
“Fair enough,” Jala conceded and moved to kneel beside Sovann. Taking both of his hands in hers she called on the healing magic and sent the spell coursing through Sovann, finding each bruise and scrape and healing them all. A wave of dizziness washed over her as she finished and she fell back onto her butt on the carpet as the magic faded from her.
“Are you all right?” Sovann asked, his voice little more than a whisper. His eyes flicked toward Vaze who watched them with intense interest.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Jala murmured and felt a pang in her chest as she pulled her knees up against her stomach and rested her forehead against them. A day ago, Valor would have been at her side in an instant had she shown weakness. Now he stood with his back to her, examining maps on the wall with an interest she knew he didn’t truly hold.
“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Sovann asked softly, his voice filled with concern. He hadn’t missed Valor’s continued anger either. Not that anyone truly could with the storm still raging outside.
Jala slowly shook her head, not bothering to look up at Sovann. She didn’t want to see the look of hurt on his face. Really she didn’t want to see his face at all right now. It wasn’t Sovann himself. It was how much he resembled his brother. If Finn were here now, Valor wouldn’t have any reason to be angry with her and she wouldn’t be in this damned fortress to begin with. She wouldn’t be contemplating marriage with Ash. None of this would be happening if she just had Finn. Of course, she wouldn’t have an army to face Avanti either.
This does no good, Jala. You are borrowing misery that you don’t need. Lock him away for now please. Now is not the time to mourn for Finn, Marrow’s voice was faint as if he were a vast distance from her and she felt panic rise at the thought. I’m just outside the fortress, Jala. You know that. You are not alone. You are never alone, Jala.
I can’t stand his anger at me, Marrow. It’s worse than a knife in the gut. Even more so because I know I deserve it. Jala tried to keep the desperation from her voice but knew she failed. Wrapping both arms around her knees she buried her face farther into the salt stained skirts and squeezed her eyes as tightly shut as she could.
Have you ever actually had a knife in the gut? I’m fairly certain that if I were given the choice of having Valor angry with me for a while or getting stabbed in my innards I would choose the pissed off knight, Marrow shot back, his voice laced with sarcasm.
I’m tired, Marrow. I hurt. I miss my son. I’ve gotten us all captured. I’m hungry. I think I’m still a touch hung over, and my closest friend has more interest in maps than anything I have to say. Please, just this once, allow me to be melodramatic and not make fun of me for it, Jala returned in a voice filled with misery.
Such a heartfelt plea I think I might have actually had mercy for you had you thought to make the request before I had already made fun of you. Pity, I suppose we will have to make a rain check on that one and I will continue to prod you for your current whininess, Marrow’s tone was light and mocking and for a moment she was hurt until she realized what he was doing.
You are trying to piss me off, Jala accused in an indignant tone.
Piss you off, make you laugh, distract you. I would take any of those options over your pain, Jala. I feel what you feel, remember. I may not share the sentiments exactly, but I do share them. I miss him, too, Jala. He was my friend as well. Now is not the time for it though. You are in your enemy’s lair, Jala, and you are cowering on the carpet like a frightened hare. You are not weak. You are not timid. Get up and let all who see you know you are Bendazzi.
There is no one in the room to impress Marrow. I don’t need to worry yet, Jala assured him, her forehead still planted firmly on her knees. Each crack of thunder from the storm outside seemed an accusation and made her want to curl into a tighter ball.
Just because you don’t see them, Jala, doesn’t mean they don’t see you, Marrow warned and she had to agree with his logic. Had she been in Kithvaryn’s place she would likely spy a bit before entering. It did explain his delayed arrival nicely.
Perhaps he thinks I am simply resting. I did get shipwrecked and whacked in the head, Jala countered.
And if that’s all that it takes to bring you low, he shouldn’t have to see you as a threat, Marrow pressed.
Well in my bloody defense I did just lift a curse and resurrect a nation. I think I’m allowed to be a bit woozy, Jala snapped back then tensed as she felt a hand settle on her shoulder gently. Raising her head slowly she met Valor’s blue eyes with a questioning look. He was kneeling in front of her with his head bent toward her and concern was written clearly on his face.
“Are you OK?” Valor asked softly, his voice absent of the anger that had been lacing it since the ship. She nodded silently, unwilling to speak. “You make it impossible to stay mad, you know that. I want to rail at you. I want to shake some sense into you. Then I see you sitting like this for so long and all of that fades and all I want to do is make sure you are OK.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper as if he didn’t want anyone else in the room to hear his words.
Jala could hear the storm outside slackening as the driving rain slowed and the lightning began to subside. Valor continued to kneel in front of her, watching her carefully, his expression growing more concerned with her silence. Leaning forward a bit she rested her forehead against his shoulder and closed her eyes once more. “I don’t want any of this, Valor. I want to go home. I want to see my son and I want to grieve for my husband. I don’t want war and I don’t want to negotiate with people.” Leaning
back, she met his eyes once more and held his gaze. “Most of all I never want to hear the sound of thunder when you look at me again. I don’t want to ever know that you are so angry at me that it requires the use of the heavens to voice it.”
“I didn’t do that intentionally, Jala,” Valor admitted with a faint smirk. “Trust me, I had no desire to be in a blizzard or try to navigate a ship through that. Honestly, I don’t even truly know how I did it. My magic has been strange since you siphoned from me. It’s a hell of a lot more powerful than I remember it being.”
Jala frowned slightly as she remembered the barrier she had encountered in Valor the day she had siphoned magic directly from him. The magic that had poured forth once she had brought the barrier down had been intoxicating, far beyond what she had expected from him. “I, uhh, well I may have bypassed a barrier and well, it’s complicated,” she muttered, trying to decide how best to explain what she had done or even if she should explain it.
The sound of the door opening spared her from trying to find the proper words. Valor rose quickly at the sound and pulled her to her feet beside him. Kithvaryn entered the room silently and closed the door softly behind him before moving to sit in an overstuffed chair near the wall showcasing the vast weapon collection.
“I apologize for my delay. It took me quite a while to convince Kara that I did not actually plan to execute any of you,” Kithvaryn said at last as he quite openly studied them. “Do not, however, take that as a promising sign. I am a man of logic and all three of you are worth coin. It would be a waste to simply kill you,” he added after a moment’s pause.
“You do realize that two of the three children you are considering as hostages are my blood relations, don’t you Kith?” Vaze murmured quietly a faint smile tracing across his lips.
The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes Page 34
