The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4 The Blessed Curse (24 page)

“From what I heard through the door, he
didn’t sound homicidal,” Neph offered with a shrug.

“When he was alive and still working as an
Assassin, his call name was
The Gentleman
. He never sounds
homicidal, Neph. Seth can smile and wink at you as he slits your
throat.” Jala’s voice rose with the words and he could see her
panic returning. “I have to get to the Darklands,” she added in a
low whisper.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Neph said quickly. “Finn
is the Lord of Death right?” he asked as he dropped his feet down
from the table and rose from his chair. The last time Jala had
journeyed to the Darklands it had nearly killed her and he wasn’t
about to let her go again even if it meant knocking her out.

“I just said he was, didn’t I?” Jala snapped
as she sat up on the bed with an expression on her face that was
equal parts irritation and concern.

“Then pray. Finn will hear you,” Neph
ordered.

“Well in that case it would have made more
sense to go to the temple now wouldn’t it,” Jala grumbled her eyes
narrowing at him.

“Jala, temples exist for our comfort so we
have a place to recognize our faith. The gods do not require us to
be in a certain spot to hear us.

They are gods, after all. Hold your symbol
and pray,” Neph said gently and settled back into his chair once
more. He half expected her to bolt for the door at the mention of
going to the Darklands, but to his relief she seemed to be
listening.

“Fine, then explain what is in the vaults
while I plead with my dead husband,” Jala sighed as she wrapped her
hand tightly around her holy symbol and closed her eyes.

“It is times like this that I realize my life
will never be normal,” Neph sighed and waved a hand toward the
bottle. “Share the booze and I’ll pour my heart out.” Wordlessly,
Jala handed over the bottle and he took a small drink. She hadn’t
left much and he considered grabbing another bottle, but decided a
dry throat was better than a drunk Jala.

“Well?” Jala snapped.

“More praying. Less talking. I’m trying to
decide how to start this,” Neph grumbled. He had never actually
spoken of the Delvay secrets before. No one did. His father had
only told him the story once and RenDelvayon had made it quite
clear that he didn’t repeat it to anyone outside the family. As far
as Neph was concerned, though, RenDelvayon’s judgment had always
been off, and he trusted Jala far more than he had ever trusted his
family, aside from Zyi. “You know what the Guardians are right?” he
asked finally. There was no way around it that he could see. In
order to explain it clearly, he had to start at the beginning.

“The ones that created the prison and the
Barrier,” Jala answered, sounding a bit distracted.

“The original Guardians were Delvay. Our
people started it all. Over the course of time there was a split,
however, and two factions emerged. One side was focused on the
preservation of the world. The other side was focused on
elimination of threats at all cost. Needless to say, the
differences in views was drastic and the fighting within our cities
grew to the point that the preservationists withdrew. They stopped
referring to themselves as Delvay and began recruiting those with
the same beliefs from other nations. In a matter of years they were
known simply as the Guardians and had a shroud of mystery
surrounding them that only the Delvay truly understood,” Neph
paused and took another drink of wine. Jala was watching him now
with a calmer look on her face, though the holy symbol was still
clutched tightly in her hands.

“So the side that is locked here is the
extremist faction,” she concluded with a faint nod.

“Somewhat,” Neph agreed. “Before the Barrier,
there were battles that lasted for decades, if not longer, and
there were enemies that made Myth seem laughable. I understood
fully when your Grandfather spoke of the ancient evils. My people
still tell stories about them. War was right. They are here, and I
know exactly where some of them rest.” He paused and smiled
bitterly. “My people not only built Sanctuary, they were the reason
it was built. The final straw for the Guardians was a battle that
the Extremists wouldn’t back down from. They were literally ripping
the world apart in order to kill their enemies. In an effort to
save the innocents, the Guardians froze the entire battle in time.
Delvay, as well as their enemies, were trapped in stasis, and
eternally locked in combat. The ones trapped were the heroes of my
people, our strength, and our legends. Without them we were lost
and when the Guardians offered us refuge we took the bait. We took
our heroes, too. I can only imagine how hard the Guardians must
have laughed when they realized not only had we fallen for their
trap, we did the heavy lifting for them and brought our fallen with
us to be locked up for safe keeping.”

“Can they be awakened?” Jala asked and it was
obvious by the look on her face she now saw the reason Kadan had
thrown his armies away trying to hold the city.

“There is the tickler. When Veyetta fell, it
was a fraud. The High Lady of Veyetta knew she couldn’t hold the
city against Troyelle’s army.

The Veyetta had a trick similar to the
Soulreavers, but rather than spirit they turned to shadows. The
twist for the Veyetta was that they literally had to step from
their mortal bodies to access that ability. I’m sure Lady Veyetta
locked the bodies away with the intent to reclaim them once the
storm had passed. Excuse the pun there, I couldn’t resist,” Neph
grinned as Jala rolled her eyes and waved for him to continue. With
a nod he sighed and pressed on. “My Grandmother was waiting for
that exact moment, though. When Lady Veyetta called her people into
the shadows, my Grandmother wove an extension of the stasis spell
over Veyetta. If you break the bindings on the statues of our
fallen you free the Shades of Veyetta as well,” Neph explained with
a sigh and took another drink from the bottle, draining the rest of
the wine. He leaned forward and sat it down with a solid thump on
the table and smiled bitterly.

“So, if Rivasa finds them, we are all
screwed,” Jala said with a sigh.

“Essentially. The only solace I have right
now is that I don’t think the Rivasans have a mage strong enough to
break the magic. However, they do have Magebreakers and draining
the power might do the trick,” Neph replied. “The saddest part is,
if I could wake just my people, Delvay would be whole again. My
people have been failing for years and it was no surprise when my
country fell. If I could somehow manage to wake them up, just the
heroes, mind you, not only would my country thrive, I wouldn’t have
to lead it. I devoted my entire time at the Academy to learning as
much magic as I could in hopes of waking them, and now Rivasa may
beat me to the punch and kill everyone in the process.”

“We have to get your city back,” Jala
whispered. Her face had gone pale and she eyed the empty bottle
with longing. “That’s what the black threads were. Everything
Hemlock said makes sense now,” she mumbled and then looked up at
him with a determined gleam in her eyes. “I’m sending Vaze to
Delvay to gather intelligence. When he returns, we will move,” she
announced.

“Jala, they hold a fortified city. You don’t
have an army big enough to break through the walls, and after the
last council meeting, I doubt anyone will volunteer to help us,”
Neph said with a sigh.

“I didn’t say anything about taking an army,”
Jala pointed out, her violet eyes locking on his. “Marrow says I am
an army. When Vaze returns, I will prove it.”

“Valor is going to kill me,” Neph groaned as
he leaned back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. He had been
trying to figure out how to take the city back for weeks now, but
he knew Jala didn’t have the military strength and he certainly
didn’t have it with the few remaining Delvay he had. The idea of
just Jala going was insane, though. He had to find a way to talk
her out of it, and quickly.

“I can’t allow that. I don’t know my way
around Delvay so you have to be there to guide me,” Jala returned
with a smirk.

The Darklands

Zoelyn staggered as her barefoot caught on
another cobble stone. Pain lanced through her foot and it was only
Seth’s hand on her arm that kept her upright. The image of her
heavy boots propped in the hall beside Legacy’s door surfaced in
her mind and she mentally cursed herself for removing them. Another
rock bit at the bottom of her foot and she stumbled once more.

“Continue like this and I will carry you the
rest of the way under my arm,” Seth sighed.

“I can’t keep pace with you, barefoot,
without tripping,” Zoelyn replied in a voice that quavered like a
child’s. She hated herself for the sound of it, but it couldn’t be
helped. She was terrified to the core. The dead surrounded them on
all sides, hovering just out of reach and watching them with an
intensity that made her stomach roil.

“Fine then,” Seth said as he stopped in his
tracks and carefully shifted Legacy to rest in the crook of his
arm. He pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her waist to
lift her. Turning quickly, Zoelyn twisted free of his grasp and
staggered back several feet from him. He watched with a smile and
looked past her to the spirits that filled the city. “Not a wise
choice, little Undrae. They are hungry,” he warned.

“She hates to be called that and I can’t say
that I’m fond of the word either,” Vaze said quietly as he stepped
from the shadows behind Seth. His armor covered him from head to
toe, masking his face, but Zoelyn recognized his voice clearly, and
relief washed over her in a flood.

Seth sighed dramatically and turned slowly to
face Vaze with a look of annoyance. “Shadow hopper, you are very
much out of your league. I suggest you scurry back to Jala now
before you irritate me further.” “Zoelyn, are you all right?” Vaze
asked, ignoring Seth’s words completely.

She nodded quickly and looked frantically for
a way to get to him. “Terrified, but not hurt,” she gasped.

“Just a moment and I will take you back
home,” Vaze assured her gently as he squared his shoulders to face
Seth. “You have an arrangement with Jala concerning Legacy. That is
difficult enough for Jala to accept. You crossed the line when you
took her ward. The girl is under Jala’s protection and I will be
leaving with her.” His tone had grown cold as he spoke, and his
hand dropped to rest lightly on his sword hilt.

“Am I supposed to kill you while holding
Legacy?” Seth asked in amusement. He grinned and shrugged one
shoulder. “I could, you know, perhaps without even waking him, but
I think it might trouble the child when he woke covered in his
Uncle’s blood don’t you?”

“There doesn’t have to be a fight here, Seth.
All you have to do is continue to Finn with his son and leave the
girl with me, ” Vaze replied sharply.

“The
Undrae
,” Seth began, emphasizing
the word, “is coming with me. You don’t understand what she is,
Shadow hopper, and I do. If you are worried for her well-being,
then follow, but if you try to stop me, I will kill you. I am not
like the other guardians of the Darklands that you have faced. Only
the Lord of Death stands above me on power here. Remember that
before you threaten me.”

Shadows rose around Vaze and he moved almost
faster than Zoelyn could follow. In one breath he was facing Seth
in the next he was beside her with one arm pulling her back into
the darkness. Zoelyn clung to his arm desperately as the shadows
swirled around them then faded to mist. A strangled gasp broke from
Vaze, and he staggered into her. His hold on her arm loosened as he
dropped to his knees on the rough cobbles.

Zoelyn watched him in panic and slowly looked
past him to where Seth stood just behind them. She hadn’t even
noticed him move, and yet there he was with a bloody dagger in one
hand and Legacy sleeping soundly in the other. Seth casually wiped
the dagger off on his pants and slid the blade back into its
scabbard at his side. With an amused smile he watched as Vaze
crumpled fully onto the cobbles.

“Now you walk, regardless, little Undrae, and
I suggest you do your best to keep up. The dead are hungry and you
have just enough life to tempt them,” Seth informed her as he
reached down and lifted Vaze effortlessly by his sword belt. Seth
wasn’t tall enough to lift the man’s body fully from the ground and
Vaze’s arms and legs hung limply against the loose cobbles.

“You killed him,” Zoelyn gasped, her eyes
locked on Vaze’s still form as Seth half carried him down the
street. The shock of what she had just witnessed left her frozen in
place with her mind reeling. It had all happened within seconds. In
one breath she had been on her way home to Merro and in the next
her savior was dead at her feet.

“A rather obvious statement, but if you
recall I did warn him first. It was more like suicide than
homicide, in all honesty. Which is what I will label your death as
if you don’t start walking,” Seth replied casually.

The air chilled around her and Zoelyn glanced
back to see several of the spirits closing on her. Fear overwhelmed
her judgment and she bolted after Seth, the cobbles biting
painfully into her feet as she ran. She slid to a halt just behind
him and tried desperately to avoid looking down at Vaze’s body.

“Wise choice, little Undrae,” Seth chuckled
as he turned a corner and headed for the black stone palace that
sat brooding in the heart of the city of the dead.

Zoelyn swallowed heavily, her eyes tracing up
the spires of the palace to the massive dark forms that circled
like vultures above it. She had never seen a dragon before, and
just a glimpse of the creatures ahead of her made her realize she
didn’t want to see one any closer. “I don’t want to go there,” she
whispered.