The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes (66 page)

“The night I came back from the dead,
actually,” Jala said and motioned toward his glass. “Have you got
another of those?” she asked.

“It’s been two weeks and suddenly you are
frantic to speak of it?” Valor said as he poured a second glass and
slid it across the table to her.

“Yes, and no,” Jala began hesitantly.
Pausing, she took a small sip from the brandy and glanced up at
him. “Are you really wearing a black amulet, Valor?” she asked
quietly.

Valor shifted in his chair and nodded, his
expression never changing.

“Why?” Jala asked, her gaze forcing him to
meet her eyes.

“Can I lie and say it’s because I don’t want
to end up like the poor bastard that won’t stop crying that
prompted us to start the process of amulets?” Valor asked
dryly.

“No,” Jala replied simply.

Valor frowned and pushed his glass back and
forth between his hands. “Then I suppose I will be truthful and
admit it’s because I don’t want to be here when Finn returns. I
know that makes me sound like a bastard, but if he wasn’t dead then
he should have been here for you. I have watched you live in misery
without him and I was utterly helpless to do anything to help you.
I can’t face him, and I…” His voice trailed off as he lifted the
glass and took another healthy swallow. “And I don’t want to see
the two of you together,” he admitted quietly as he sat the glass
down once more.

“You will see him before me with that amulet
on, Valor,” Jala said softly. She waited until he looked up at her
and smiled sadly. “I tried to tell you that night, but you left
before I could finish. I saw him in the Darklands, Valor. He has
taken the place of the Dark Lady,” she explained and watched as the
realization of what she had said that night registered in his
mind.

“Did you plan to take your own life to return
to him?” Valor asked his expression horrified at the thought.

Jala shook her head quickly and sighed. “I
was feeling so much…” She paused and shook her head again in
frustration as she searched for the correct word. “I was feeling so
much of everything that night, Valor. Pain, grief, sadness, anger,
and my words were morbid. I was being melodramatic I suppose, but
no, suicide never crossed my mind,” She stared down into the amber
depths of her brandy for a long moment before speaking again. “It
was all the enchantment for Finn. I asked him directly when I stood
before him and he answered me with blunt honesty. He never loved me
at all, Val,” she said. The pain was still there, but it was less
than it had been.

“Then he was a bigger fool than I thought,”
Valor replied quietly.

Standing, Jala moved around the table and
stopped just in front of him. Silently she raised her hands to his
neck and pulled the cord of the necklace from under his shirt. She
glanced up to find him watching her as she carefully unfastened the
clasp and lifted the amulet free of his neck. Her thumb traced
along the edge of the black coin as she stared down at the skull
imprinted deeply in the metal. She watched him as she sat the
amulet down softly onto the table. “Please, Valor. I need you to
help me finish this. The thought of you not being there beside me
when we finally ride home…” Her voice trailed off as her throat
tightened.

Leaning forward, Valor took her hands gently
in his and smiled up at her. “I’m sorry, Jala. I didn’t understand.
I will always stand beside you, as long as you want me there.”

“Promise me you won’t put that back on,” Jala
whispered, her eyes flicking to the amulet.

“You have my word. Should I die on the field,
bring me back as quickly as you can. I have no desire to ever see
Fiona Veirasha again,” Valor smiled as he spoke the words and
slowly released her hands. “It’s almost over, Jala. Another few
weeks at the most and you will have your dream. We can return to
Merro and put all this behind us.”

“Almost,” Jala agreed quietly, though she
knew Merro was still more than a few weeks off. They would deal
with the Avanti soon, that was true. The Blights were another
matter though. Sanctuary wouldn’t be safe until all of the threats
were dealt with. Now was not the time to mention that, though. It
could wait.

“You are a son of a bitch, Jail,” Jala
announced as she re-entered her tent. Jail looked up from her chair
and dropped the reports back down onto the table, frowning at
her.

“I really didn’t expect to see you back here
tonight,” Jail said with a disappointed look on his face.

“What the bloody hell did you think I would
be doing, Jail? I’m newly widowed for the second time,” Jala
snapped putting emphasis on the word
second
.

“That hardly counts. You despised Jexon and
everyone in the camp knew that,” Jail countered dryly, rolling his
eyes at her.

“And Valor is my friend and nothing more,”
Jala returned and motioned him out of her seat.

“When we found you in the tunnels. Valor was
half dead and holding you against him as if his own life depended
on your survival. He had you cradled in his arms, holding his cloak
to your wounds to keep you from bleeding out because he didn’t have
enough strength left to get both of you out of there. Rather than
use what he had left to escape, he would have bled out beside you,”
Jail said as he rose, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Because he is my friend,” Jala said firmly
as she dropped into her chair.

“Because he loves you, Jala,” Jail corrected
firmly. “And you love him, too, or you wouldn’t have been in the
tunnels to begin with. Neph told me about your banshee wail and the
mad ride through the fighting to reach where Valor had fallen.”

“Jail, I don’t need this right now,” Jala
snapped as she snatched a handful of the papers from her table.

“Do you know what it means when an Arovan man
cuts his hair?” Jail asked, dropping down in the chair across from
her and leaning forward on the table.

Jala looked up at him with a glare and cocked
her head to the side. “That he wanted a haircut?” she asked
dryly.

“It means he is spoken for and the women of
Arovan know by sight that they would be wasting their time in
pursuit of him. The earring Valor wears is called a Widows ring. It
signifies his devotion to your son in his culture. Were it his true
born child the ring would be silver rather than black,” Jail
explained watching her closely as she slowly sat the papers back
down on her table.

“He cut his hair when Legacy was born,” Jala
said softly as she folded her hands before her on the table and
stared hard at Jail.

Jail nodded in agreement. “And he has shown
no interest in another woman since the day you arrived back from
the Darklands,” he added softly.

“Why in the bloody hell are you just now
telling me what the earring and shorter hair mean, Jail?” Jala
demanded, her voice rising. “Why in the bloody hell did you wait so
long to mention those two very important things to me?”

“When should I have told you, Jala? While you
were grieving for Finn or during your wedding to Jexon? There
wasn’t much time in between the two events,” Jail shot back, his
tone filled with irritation. “It wasn’t my place to tell you, Jala.
It was Valor’s, but he was waiting for you to heal from Finn, and
then he was waiting for Jexon to die, and frankly I’m sick of
watching the poor bastard wait.”

Jala leaned back in her chair and rubbed her
face. Legacy let out a soft cry from the bed and she stood from her
chair, slowly shaking her head at Jail. “Not now, Jail. I can’t
focus on this now. I have too much before me already,” Jala said,
sweeping her hands toward the reports for emphasis before crossing
the room to her son.

“Love is not something that exists in
measurements, Jala. You aren’t born with a set amount to divide
among those you care for,” Jail said as he rose from his chair. “It
comes in different forms, too. What you had with Finn was
passionate, but fragile. I watched you sit by the window waiting
for Finn to come back so many times. You had love between you, but
not trust,” Jail said quietly. “Admitting you love Valor is not
betraying what you felt for Finn, and Valor will never leave you
sitting by a window waiting. What you have with Valor is deeper and
you know that, Jala. You just won’t admit it,” Jail finished and
turned to leave. He paused at the tent flap and glanced back at
her. “If you only focus on the dark side of life, eventually you
will be nothing but dark yourself.”

Jala listened as the tent flap swung shut
behind him and continued to rock Legacy against her shoulder. Her
son was so big now it was getting difficult to cradle him in her
arms. With a heavy sigh, she kissed him on the top of his head and
tried to keep her thoughts from straying to Valor. Turning, she
paced back toward her desk, rocking Legacy lightly as she walked.
The sound of the tent flap opening once more brought her gaze
upward and she froze as her eyes fell on Valor.

Valor smiled at her and nodded once. Jala
returned the nod and raised an eyebrow at his armor. When she had
seen him in his tent he had been wearing a simple tunic and
breeches. Jala motioned him toward a chair and watched as he moved
silently to accept.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Valor said quietly, his
gaze on her son as she continued to pace.

Jala smiled faintly and nodded her head once
toward the small cabinet behind him that held the few liquor
bottles she owned. She watched him rise from the chair and select a
bottle and glass. Her eyes locked on the bottle for a long moment
before she slowly crossed the room and carefully placed Legacy on
the floor beside Marrow. Standing straight once more she placed
herself between her son and the man at the table and cleared her
throat. He turned to look at her and frowned at the expression on
her face. “Valor hates Firewater,” she informed the imposter in a
cool voice.

The man smiled faintly and his form shifted,
the armor fading into clothing as his body grew leaner. In moments
a tawny haired man in a black trench coat sat where Valor had a
breath before. He watched her with dark green eyes just visible
over the black half mask he wore. “I wanted to see how you treated
the Arovan. There were rumors of course. I just wanted the truth of
it,” Sovaesh said calmly with an apologetic shrug.

“With respect and kindness,” Jala informed
him, her eyes still narrowed. She had only seen the man once
before, but she knew his reputation well. Finn had spoken of his
father often, and of course there were the rumors in Sanctuary
about the Avanti’s pet Assassin as well.

“So I see,” Sovaesh agreed with a slight nod.
“May I see him? You don’t have to allow me to hold him, but would
you bring him closer,” he asked hesitantly as he motioned toward
Legacy.

“If you will tell me why you are here,” Jala
said calmly as she reached down to pick her son up once more.

“As far as my master knows, I am here to kill
you. That is, after all, what he sent me from the city to do. I’m
pleased to inform you, however, that you are going to manage to
thwart my attempt. That shouldn’t be difficult to believe, though.
By our reports you never seem to stay dead,” Sovaesh said as he
pulled his mask down and lifted the glass of Firewater to his lips.
“In truth, the only reason I left the city was to see my grandson
and speak with you.”

Jala nodded and looked down at the Bendazzi
that crouched at her feet. “Marrow, sit on his left. Emily, on his
right. If he moves from that chair rip his throat out,” she said
calmly and waited until the Bendazzi had taken their positions
before looking up at him once more. “Forgive me for not trusting,”
Jala said coldly as she approached the table just enough for him to
get a good look at his Grandson.

Sovaesh smiled in understanding and leaned
forward in his chair, his expression softening as he watched
Legacy. “I love all of my children, but Finn was special to me,” he
said softly. “I was so relieved when he turned his back on Avanti
and so proud of what he accomplished on his own. It wasn’t an
honorable life he led, but it was his own. He didn’t answer to
anyone but himself. When I heard he had married, I thought he had
finally found his peace in life.”

“He would have, if not for the Avanti and
Hemlock,” Jala said, her voice level despite the emotions warring
inside her. She wanted to trust the man. She wanted to believe the
sincerity he was showing, but he was an Assassin and he served her
enemy. “Did you come here to speak of Finn?”

“No, actually I came here in hopes of making
a bargain with you,” Sovaesh said with a heavy sigh.

“What kind of bargain?” Jala asked
cautiously.

“I will kill Donrey Avanti and tell you how
to breach the city if you will spare his son’s life,” Sovaesh
answered, his eyes on her now rather than her son.