The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams (27 page)

“You are here in perfect time, General
Troyelle. Please have a seat and I will inform you of what you have
missed,” Lord Faydwer offered, motioning to a seat beside him. “I
truly hope your granddaughter is found soon. I assure you if she is
still missing when this council ends, the Faydwer will do all they
can to assist you in finding her.”

“I appreciate the offer,” General Troyelle
replied, finally prying his eyes from Avanti who was doing an
excellent job of appearing innocent. Jala watched him cross the
room and marveled at how much Valor resembled his father. They had
the same powerful build and coloring to hair and eyes and the only
true difference she could find was in demeanor. While Valor tended
to be smiles and charm, Troyelle reminded her of his namesake, a
storm, or a force of nature perhaps. He didn’t seem the sort of man
that could easily be ignored.

“How long do we have to wait for this
Soulreaver?” Lady Nerathane asked her voice filled with
annoyance.

“Until he arrives,” Arjuna replied
curtly.

“This is ridiculous, to pander to such
nonsense,” Lady Nerathane snapped casting a glare at Arjuna.

“Are you suggesting my Shaman’s spirit magic
is ridiculous?” asked Lord Reaver, anger clearly written on his
features.

“Yes, actually,” she responded, her pitch
black eyes locking firmly with the Lord Reaver’s grey ones.

“Calm down please.” Lord Morcaillo spoke in
soothing tones but seemed to be generally ignored by both Lord and
Lady, though they both remained silent.

Jala leaned back in her chair enjoying the
soft cushions as she watched Lord Faydwer replay an illusion of
what Troyelle had missed so far. As the image drew to an end
Troyelle looked up and regarded her with interest. She raised an
eyebrow at him in question and smiled faintly.

“You intend to summon the spirits of your
dead parents?” he asked her quietly.

“I do,” she replied. “Or rather, I intend for
Lord Zachary to summon them,” she clarified.

“Will that not be painful for you?” Troyelle
pressed.

“Not half so painful as the execution they
have planned,” Jala said with a smile, waving a ringed hand in the
direction of Avanti and Morcaillo. “If I’m going to be executed,
I’d rather be guilty of the crime. I am Jaladene Merrodin and I
will prove it through whatever means I must.”

Nodding slowly, Troyelle searched the faces
of each lord present and turned back to her. “Kadandelvayan is an
honest man. You have the support of Arjuna without a doubt. As well
as Zachary, Jaradon, and myself. That’s five votes for you in a
council of ten. They can’t execute you without majority. A tie will
not suffice.”

“I don’t think they intended for you to
arrive in time Lord Troyelle,” she said with a smile.

“I fail to see how any of us can be accused
in tampering with Lord Troyelle’s arrival,” Lord Morcaillo spoke
up, his tone annoyed.

“Not to break into what I’m sure will be a
brilliant tirade, Lord Morcaillo, but I must speak,” Kadandelvayan
said, leaning forward in his chair slightly. His gaze shifted from
Lord Morcaillo to General Troyelle. “You mention that I’m an honest
man, but assume you have my vote, General. While I have no ill
wishes toward the girl, I cannot honestly vote for her yet. I do
not know she is Merrodin blood. To me she does not look Merrodin at
all. The only proof I have that she is Merrodin is from talk that
I’ve heard, and I will not vote according to gossip,” he finished
and turned his face toward Jala before raising one shoulder in an
apologetic shrug.

“That is completely understandable, Lord
Kadandelvayan. I take no offense and respect you for your
decision,” Jala replied with a bow of her head in the direction of
the young lord.

“Damn Delvay, I cannot believe you would
consider allying with the likes of them,” Arjuna snapped waving a
hand in the direction of her opposition.

“It’s not that I’m siding with them, Lord
Arjuna. I am Delvay. We take no side other than our own. You ask me
to vote on the girl’s identity without knowing who she is. To me
that is unreasonable,” Kadandelvayan protested.

“We could have a monkey sitting in her chair
and I’d vote it was Merrodin blood if it pissed Avanti off,” Arjuna
grumbled, shaking his head at Kadan in disgust.

“A viper would be more fitting than a monkey
for Merrodin blood,” Lord Faydwer added quietly, drawing a few
chuckles from the room.

“Perhaps the former Merrodin. I like to think
I share nothing of their qualities. I’ll leave the vipers for House
Morcaillo. It suits them, I think. I personally prefer the
Bendazzi,” Jala said mildly.

I really hope the Soul Reaver gets here
soon. It’s taking a lot of willpower to not smack some of these
Lords,
Emily said in a disgusted voice.

One would think they would have better
things to do. I suppose they are worried about another vote being
on the council. I guess politically it does change the balance. I
prefer Lord Kadan’s way of thinking, though I’m not sure Lord
Arjuna has realized that yet,
Jala responded, mentally taking
care to keep her expression neutral.

The sound of the doors opening once more
brought silence to the table and all eyes turned to watch as Ash
stepped through the doorway. He wore all white as he had when she
had last seen him in Rivana. He eyed the council with curiosity in
his pale eyes. Silently, he approached the table with his hands
folded behind his back and his expression serene. A faint smile
touched his face as his eyes traveled over Jala, but quickly faded
as he reached Lord Rivasa.

“You have sent for me?” Ash asked the council
at large, seeming unsure as to whom he should direct his words.

“I have,” Jala said, smiling up at him. He
turned his gaze back to her and raised a slender white eyebrow in
question. “I understand that you have training in spirit magic. Is
that correct?” she asked.

“Ahh, you do not know much of the Reavers, do
you?” Ash asked. Somewhat confused by the question, Jala simply
shook her head in response. He smiled faintly once more and nodded.
“The more contact with spirits, the paler a Spiritcaller becomes,
as the touch of death drains away all colors of life. I am tenth
circle Spiritcaller and thus my coloring,” he explained, motioning
toward himself with pale ivory hands to emphasize his words.

“I didn’t know. Please forgive my ignorance,”
Jala replied with a slight bow of her head.

“Ignorance should never require forgiveness.
There is no offense taken. My people are secretive, so such details
are often unknown,” he responded, the smile still showing.
“Perhaps, though, you could tell me what need you have of a
Spiritcaller?”

“I need a neutral party to question spirits
and verify that the answer given is the truth. Would you be willing
to perform this service?” Jala kept her tone respectful and tried
to choose her words with as much care as possible. From her point
of view, Ash deserved more respect than most sitting at the council
table, simply from the way he conducted himself.

“Possibly, if you would explain to me why I
would be disturbing the dead, I could answer yes or no,” Ash
replied without hesitation.

“To verify that I am who I claim to be. I
need the truth from the spirits so this council does not find me
guilty of a crime I’m not committing,” she explained.

Ash looked from her to the council and then
back to her. “Any life mage could tell who you are by testing your
blood. A mage with training in time magic could look back through
the timeline to determine your origins. Why have you chosen the
path of spirits?” he spoke softly and it seemed simple curiosity
that fueled his questions.

“Oh, for the love of all of the Aspects, just
summon the dead and get this over with,” Lady Nerathane protested,
rolling her eyes and flopping heavily back into her chair.

Ash ignored the outburst completely and
continued to watch Jala, waiting patiently for his answer. Jala
grinned and nodded slightly and cleared her throat once. “I don’t
know any life mages that I would trust with my blood. The same
could be said for the mages I know that can access the timeline,
with the exception of Anthe who cannot come speak for me due to the
curse on her land. While I may have just learned your name, I do
trust you to seek the truth from the dead for me. Even when you
stood on opposite sides in Rivana, you carried yourself with honor
and so I’m putting my faith in you,” she answered, keeping her gaze
fixed on the Soulreaver and ignoring everyone else in the room.

“Yes, I will question the dead for you,” Ash
said after a moment’s consideration.

“Who would you have me summon?” Zachary asked
her, his voice a deep monotone that seemed such a harsh contrast to
Ash’s lighter, more serene tones.

“Traven Merrodin and Magdelyn …,” she trailed
off and frowned at Zachary. “I actually don’t know my mother’s
surname,” she admitted quietly.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll use a link
through you to locate the correct spirit,” Zachary said with a
faint shrug. His gaze grew distant as his voice trailed off and he
began to whisper in a language she wasn’t familiar with. The room
began to darken slowly, taking most of the heat with it. Zachary
continued the eerie whispering, his words growing in volume as his
breath misted in the chill.

“Rather dramatic isn’t he?” Lady Nerathane’s
voice cut through the room like a razor through silk.

“Be wary, Lady, you wouldn’t want to draw the
attention of the dead to you,” Ash said, flicking his colorless
gaze in her direction and then back to Zachary.

Shadows began to stir on the floor near the
lord of Oblivion, subtle flickers at first and then growing more
substantial as he continued the summoning. “Magdelyn,” Zachary
pronounced as the first of the spirits ripped from the shadows and
launched itself for the sky.

Stepping forward quickly Ash raised a hand
toward the flitting spirit and beckoned it back down. With
movements similar to a hummingbird, it moved through the rafters
refusing his call. “Magdelyn Glendry, do not make me use force,”
Ash warned quietly, his words intended for the spirit alone. “I see
thee, Magdelyn, I know you and I can bind you if needed.”

“I am of Oblivion now Reaver, none may bind
me,” The spirit called back to him, her hollow voice echoing in the
small chamber.

Jala bit her lower lip as she watched the
spirit continue to flit. In shape it looked nothing as her mother
had, but there was no mistaking that voice. The last time she had
heard that voice her mother had been beckoning her to safety.
“Mother, please answer him. I need your help here,” Jala called
softly.

“So touching,” Lord Avanti said dryly, his
expression looking bored.

“How do we even know if that is truly her
mother? It looks like no more than a blurry shadow to me,” Lady
Nerathane objected, her upper lip curled as she regarded the
spirit.

“If my Soulreaver says it is her, it is,”
Lord Jexon replied flatly.

“I say it is, but I am hardly your
Soulreaver, Jexon,” Ash said flatly, his eyes still following the
spirit.

“Mother, please its Jala,” Jala called up to
the spirit, once more ignoring the banter in the room.

“Jala?” the spirit echoed with obvious
question in her voice. A rush of cold air enveloped her as it swept
closer and hovered just out of reach of her hand. “My Jala, why?”
The spirit trailed off, its voice becoming almost a wail. Rising
once more in the air it swept across the council table leaving
strands of shadows curling in its wake. “Why are you here Jala?” it
called as it rose back to the rafters and then plummeted down
directly in front of her.

“They doubt who I am, mother. They doubt I’m
Merrodin blood,” Jala explained.

“You must tell them who she is and speak
truthfully, Magdelyn,” Ash said softly, his hand rising once more
to the spirit.

Her mother’s shade seemed to flicker in and
out of the room for a moment and a ragged sob broke from it. “They
were never supposed to know, Jala. You were safe. I kept you so
safe. I kept you from these Jackals. Jala, why are you here? Why
are you among them?” The spirit’s voice was filled with agony and
the words nearly a wail.

Biting her lower lip harder, Jala stared down
at the floor until she once again had mastery of her expression.
“I’m going to fix things, mother, but I need you to tell them who I
am,” Jala replied, her voice quiet but even, despite the desire to
sob that was growing steadily.

“You are nothing,” her mother hissed.
“Nothing for them. Nothing to them. They will break you Jala! Run
from here! Run now!”

“She lies,” Ash spoke the words with a slight
shake of his head and frowned to Jala. “Apparently, I must bind her
to get the truth. This will not be pleasant. You may wish to look
away,” he warned her and drew a slender dagger from his sleeve.
With a practiced flip of his hand he drew a small gash across his
hand and flicked the blood to the floor below the spirit. “I bind
thee by my blood, Magdelyn Glendry. I bind thee to speak only the
truth and to stand thy ground until my will does release thee.” His
voice was low and rang with power. The spirit twisted and writhed
in response to his words. A low moan filled the air as her mother
settled to the floor where the blood drops were drying. With
another twist of Ash’s hand the spirit writhed once more as if on
fire. “To thy true form, Magdelyn. Show me thy true face.” The
shadowy form twisted and shrank at his words and let out a feral
scream as the shadows were ripped from it.

“Wait, stop!” Jala called, unable to take the
sound of agony any longer. “Just make her speak the truth please
that is all I ask,” she pleaded, feeling her eyes begin to go
glassy despite how desperately she was fighting back the tears.