The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes (11 page)

“Well said, I agree she can’t have me,” Valor
mumbled and began digging through their bag once again, at last
pulling free a small silver container and lifting it out with a
triumphant smile. Pulling the lid free he carefully removed a cigar
and grinned faintly at Jala. “Most people complain about their
smell. Here I think it can only be an improvement.”

“I’ve never seen you smoke those before, but
by all means,” Jala agreed with a wave of her hand. Shaking her
head she leaned back against the cave wall once more trying not to
think of what might be coating the stones behind her.

“I bought them for my brother, actually. I
had planned to give them to him before he left the city, but I
didn’t have a chance to see him before he left. So I’ve been
carrying them around,” Valor explained and then smiled sadly as he
tapped one on his hand and glanced toward her again. “It’s somewhat
of a tradition my father started. After every victory you smoke one
of these. Normally, Honor and I tease each other with it and give
half-smoked cigars. He was going against the Blights when he left,
though, so I bought him a dozen.” He fell silent again and then lit
the cigar taking a long drag from it.

“I’m sure he has already had more than one
victory so you can save the ashes for him and give them to him on
your return and thank him for winning. The smoke does smell much
better than this cave,” Jala offered as she stretched her leg out
before her. It was difficult to find a comfortable position to rest
the ankle, without propping her foot on the pile of bones before
her. She could feel the tingling of the healing though. Despite how
foul smelling was the tonic Fiona had found, it did seem effective.
She looked up to find Fiona still silently watching her with an
enigmatic expression on her face. “What?” she asked after a long
moment of the woman’s unflinching stare.

“Nothing to discuss now,” Fiona murmured,
shaking her head as if she had been deep in thought. With a last
glance at them she went back to scavenging the cave in silence.

Valor leaned back beside her and took a long
drag from the cigar. Jala glanced over at him and smiled faintly.
He returned the gesture with a weary sigh and nodded to her.

“At the very least, we will never forget this
trip,” Valor mumbled with a slight shake of his head. “It may not
be fond memories, but I’m sure we will find something suitable to
say about them when others ask.”

Jala’s smile faded a bit and she nodded
slowly. Turning back to Fiona she cleared her throat. The fragile
pieces of a plan were forming in her mind and it was difficult to
keep from growing too hopeful. “Fiona, are there those among the
Forgotten that are like you. I mean strong undead such as yourself
that have an actual form or are they all wailing banshees?” she
asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

“There are a few among them that are
formidable, their leader being the foremost in that. He is quite
powerful. Not even I would care to fight him. That’s why it’s best
to avoid them,” Fiona answered, looking up from a rotting bag that
was her latest find in the bone heap.

“I don’t want to avoid them, then. I’d like
to go see them before we continue on,” Jala said with another faint
smile forming on her lips. If what she had in mind worked,
retrieving Finn was about to get a lot easier.

“What do you have in mind?” Valor asked
quietly. If he was at all concerned he didn’t show it.

“Finding a suitable way to remember them,”
Jala replied quietly.

“This is their border. Are you sure you wish
to continue in this? I don’t think they will listen to you,” Fiona
said.

Jala nodded slowly, her eyes roving over the
terrain ahead. Tall black pines covered the ground as far as she
could see, while heavy fog blanketed the forest floor. That,
combined with the ever-present gloom of the Darklands, and it was
nearly impossible to see anything in the Forgotten territory. “I
still wish to speak with them,” she said quietly.

“Your funeral,” Fiona said with a shrug and
motioned a gauntleted hand toward the forest. “I will wait here for
you. If you cannot return to this exact point, I will find you
along the borders. If you return that is.”

“Not coming with us, then? I do so hate to
part with your charming company, Fiona.” Valor said
sarcastically.

Jala turned in the saddle to look back at him
with a slight shake of her head. “Don’t mock the dead, Val,” she
scolded lightly.

“Especially when you are about to be one of
them,” Fiona added dryly, offering a last tight smile to the pair
of them as they rode across the border.

“Is it just me or did the temperature drop
another ten degrees once we entered the fog?” Valor asked
quietly.

“Twenty, you must not have noticed how severe
the change was through all that metal,” Jala replied, pulling her
borrowed cloak tighter around her.

“So the plan is to offer them a name?” Valor
asked, quietly his eyes roving the terrain.

“Somewhat,” Jala agreed, not bothering to
scan the area herself. She would have to rely on Valor and Valorous
to spot anything approaching. Their vision was much better in the
low light than hers and she had come to rely on them as her eyes in
the past few weeks of travel. “I have to say, I don’t really mind
the cold as much as I did when we first arrived. The cold seems to
deaden the sense of smell and I don’t think I want to smell myself
after countless weeks of travel and several days of sleeping in a
cave with dead bodies,” she said softly. There was no real point to
being silent here. Fiona had warned them that no matter how much
stealth they tried to use, the Forgotten would know where they were
once they crossed the border.

“Don’t forget the demon blood that we have
both been thoroughly doused in. I know I practically got a shower
of it when we fought Nasurai,” Valor added with a sigh.

Jala glanced back at him and smirked at his
look of disgust. Valor was typically fastidious about his
appearance and he was absolutely filthy right now. “I’ll pay the
cleaning bill for your armor,” she offered.

“There won’t be a bill on this armor. It’s
too damaged already. I will be melting it down when we return to
Merro. It’s something that should have been replaced before now,
anyway. It is my father’s colors. I should have armor in your
colors.” Valor said with a sigh, his eye still searching the
forest.

“That’s not important to me you know,” she
pointed out quietly and fell silent as the fog ahead of them
swirled. “Did you see that?”

“And that.” Valor motioned with his hand to
the left. “And that, and that,” he said again pointing to their
right and then above them to the left. “I would imagine they are
moving behind us as well,” he said, though he didn’t shift in the
saddle to look behind them.

And that, and that, and that
. Mocking
voices hissed from the surrounding trees.
See the living, soon
to be forgotten
. The voices hissed louder. The words seemed to
echo out of the fog.

“I will never be forgotten. I am High Lady
Jala Merrodin and I will be eternal in the minds and hearts of
everyone that knows me,” Jala called back to the voices which fell
silent at her words. Angry murmurs began to build from the fog in
their place and Valor shifted in the saddle behind her.

“Whatever you plan to do you had better do
it. I wouldn’t simply taunt them and leave it at that,” Valor
hissed in her ear.

“I can make you eternal as well. I can make
sure you are always remembered and never forgotten again,” Jala
called, her voice pitched loudly to carry through the trees. “I’ve
come to make an offer to you; an offer that will ensure you will
always be remembered.”

“This is a first. Would you have me believe
that you didn’t simply wander into our lands? That you actually
sought us out?” a man’s voice called from the fog louder and
clearer than the rest had been.

“It is the truth. We have come here seeking
you, though our guide bid us to go around,” Jala replied. “Are you
the leader? The one that holds the Forgotten together?” she asked
loudly.

“I am the one they follow,” the man replied
as he stepped from the mists and regarded them. In life he must
have been impressive. In death he was terrifying. His skin was
bleached as white as old bone, while his eyes remained sunken and
black. Large spikes extended from the armor on his shoulders with
skulls impaled upon them. Most were simply bone, but others still
had traces of flesh clinging raggedly to them. Had Valor stood
before this man, the Forgotten Lord would have towered over her
knight companion and the axe he held looked as though it could
shatter any sword.

“Then I name you Axis, for you are their
center and thus I will remember you,” Jala said calmly, hoping her
plan worked.

The man froze, his expression filled with
distrust. “You cannot simply do that. You cannot simply name a man,
and say that it is his,” he began, though there was a note of hope
in his voice.

Jala tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at
him. “Can I not? I was once told by a dear friend that we have
three names in life. The first is given by our mothers when we are
born, the second is a nickname that is given by friends, and the
third is earned through our deeds. In my eyes you have earned your
name by leading your people. Thus I grant you a name and promise
you will no longer be forgotten.”

Murmuring filled the fog though it was no
longer filled with anger. In places, the mist parted enough for her
to catch a glimpse of another figure. Here a woman watching them
curiously; there a small child.

“Step forth and tell me of yourselves, so
that I might remember you all,” Jala offered, her eyes locked on
the small blond haired child watching them from beside a tree. In
life the girl had likely been adorable. In death she was a mockery
of innocence. Her small pursed lips were blue and her skin was the
color of a fish’s belly. Her eyes were the most disturbing,
however. Unlike the other dead Jala had seen, this child’s eyes
retained their original color of pale blue. There was no childlike
light in them, however. They were cold and held nothing but
hatred.

“Why would you do this?” Axis demanded loudly
and the murmuring ceased at once.

“Because I need your help,” Jala replied
simply and truthfully.

Axis laughed a bitter cold sound and swept
his gaze over his people. “The living High Lady wishes the
assistance of the lowly dead,” he called in a mocking voice.

“The living High Lady requests the help of
the Forgotten,” Jala corrected. “The ones that are so feared in the
Darklands that my guide refused to cross their borders. The ones
that even Death’s demons will not approach.”

Axis’s expression changed a bit with her
words and he took a step closer, his head cocked to one side in a
parody of her own. Jala straightened in the saddle and felt Valor
tense behind her. “For the love of god don’t draw your sword,” she
hissed to him.

Valor let out a long breath and nodded though
it was obvious he didn’t want to agree with her. “I trust you. If
you believe this will work, I will have faith,” he whispered.

“Don’t have too much faith. If he raises that
axe, draw your sword,” Jala replied quickly in a hushed voice as
Axis continued to advance. He moved with quick bursts that seemed
unnatural to watch and Jala could well imagine what he must be like
when fighting. His simple walking was covering twice as much ground
as a living man would.

“Who is your guide who would not cross our
boundary?” Axis asked, his voice low. He had stopped walking
several feet back from them and seemed more curious than hostile at
the moment.

“Fiona Veirasha, a legend among the people in
the sunlit world,” Jala replied loudly, so that all that were
gathered could hear. “If Fiona Veirasha fears you, how could I
possibly fail to remember the Forgotten? Even if you choose not to
help me, I will remember you all.”

Axis shifted where he stood and gazed around
at his people once more. “Axis.” He breathed the name, almost
seeming to savor the sound of it. Slowly he looked up at Jala again
and the same distrust as before crossed his features. “What would
you have of us?” he asked.

“I go to face Death. I confront her for her
corruption. I ask that the Forgotten help me breach her city. I do
not ask you to face the Dark Lady herself. That is my task. I ask
only that you help me with her minions that guard her. The demons
that already fear you.”

“I think had you asked for anything else I
would have let my people rip the flesh from your bones and added
your skulls to my armor. For this though…” Axis paused and gave her
a hideous parody of a grin that stretched his gaunt face horribly.
“For this, the Forgotten will help. Death has wronged many here and
we will gladly pay her in turn,” he hissed and hatred filled his
voice. Turning away from her, he held his arms up and turned in a
half circle. “Come forward and tell your story, the High Lady has a
name for you all she says,” he called in a loud booming voice that
seemed to shake the trees around them.