“If not for him and my father, I wouldn’t have been given probation in Sanctuary, and I would most likely be dead now. I couldn’t tell him no,” Valor grumbled as he glared at Neph across the table. “And now, I have fresh reports in and none of it is good news. Morcaillo is still attacking the Firym border. The Blights are still attacking in Faydwer. Han’shy has sealed their border completely and is offering help to no one. Avanti is wreaking havoc near the Greenwild. My men have already arrested six slavers this week. By far, the most disturbing is Nerathane, however. They have moved eight dragons to Seravae, and from what I understand, the Seravae isles are still in Civil war. I don’t know if the dragons are there to support one side of the war in Seravae or it’s a staging ground to attack Arovan. Either way, it’s bad and Jala can’t spare the strength to support Arovan again,” The words poured out of Valor in a flood of misery. The knight leaned back heavily in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. “And I don’t want to tell her any of this,” he added softly.
“She won’t leave Arovan to rot and you know it,” Neph said with a sigh. He rubbed his jaw as he stared down at the food he no longer had an appetite for. When you combined Valor’s reports with the information he had given Jala about Delvay it was grim news all the way around. An optimist might see a way through all of the ill tidings, but Neph had never been optimistic. As far as he could see it, Sanctuary was going straight to hell faster than anyone could stop it. “Where is Jala now?” Neph asked after a long moment. She would need to be informed of the reports, of course, but if he was with Jala there was a chance he could talk some sense into her. There was only so much Merro could offer the rest of the world, and he knew Jala would offer more than she should. It was in her nature to help others, even when it meant risking herself.
“Ahh. That’s the other wonderful part of the day,” Valor sighed. His gaze dropped back down to Neph’s face and he smiled bitterly. “She is working with Zoelyn and the Blight. Have you had a chance to see the Blight yet? I just did for the first time. Jala has finally managed to convince him to show himself to others.”
Neph shook his head slowly and raised an eyebrow at Valor. “I haven’t, but what does it matter?” Valor’s sighed heavily and glanced toward the cabinet with a look of longing on his face.
“Kind of early to start drinking, Val. Why don’t you just keep talking instead,” Neph suggested dryly. He had thought Valor was past his drinking issues. At the Academy, the knight had been drunk more often than sober, but he believed Jala had cured that. From the look on Valor’s face now, though, it was obvious she hadn’t.
“Wine is a hell of a lot better company than you,” Valor grumbled, but didn’t move from his chair. “Jala told me on the day we learned about the Blight that he had Arovan blood,” Valor began quietly once he realized Neph was still waiting for an answer. He tapped his finger on the table and frowned. “I thought she meant he was from the people of Arovan. I didn’t realize she literally meant House Arovan’s blood. She did, though. I figured that out when I saw him for the first time this morning. The creature is a spitting image of Micah. I nearly called him Micah at first glance. I thought somehow Jala had managed to bring him back from the dead until the Blight looked at me. The eyes are the only difference until you notice the fangs,” Valor explained in a hushed voice.
Neph stared at Valor for a long moment, not realizing that his jaw had dropped open. Closing his mouth quickly, he shook his head at Valor in disbelief. “It can’t be,” he objected, shaking his head once more. “Micah was fighting the bloody Blights. There is no way he took time from his crusade to bed one of them.”
“Say that again after you meet the creature. By the way, it has chosen the name Dray since Zoelyn refuses to call it Undrae. Apparently it is quite willing to be called monster. That, in itself, leaves me wondering what exactly I should do,” Valor said as he glanced once more toward the cabinet. “You see, technically I don’t have to be the heir of Arovan, now,” he paused as he looked back at Neph. “I just have to inform my Uncle that his only son bedded a Blight before he died. Somehow I think that information might put a bit of a shadow on Micah’s memory. Right now, everyone remembers him as a hero and a champion against the Blights,” he finished in a disgusted voice.
“I will get the wine,” Neph offered with a nod as he rose from his chair and moved to fetch glasses. With everything he had just heard, he fully understood why Valor wanted a drink. He rarely drank and he was craving one now. “Well, you have explained your mood. You haven’t explained the coin, though,” Neph said in an attempt to steer the conversation to a topic that might be less painful for his friend to discuss.
“Ahh. That. It’s my dead sister’s soul that I can’t return to my parents,” Valor said in a voice laced with bitterness.
“What?” Neph exclaimed, nearly dropping the wine bottle. Well so much for a less painful topic, he mused as he watched Valor’s face. The only other time he had seen Valor this miserable was after the battle when Jala had died. The knight was calmer now, but there was the same look of pain in his eyes.
“Jala saved her in the Darklands when we went for Finn. I didn’t return her during the war because I didn’t know if there would be anything left for her to come back to. I had planned to return her to my family at the meeting in Arovan, but things went poorly. If I give her back now it will look as though I’m trying to buy their fealty with my sister’s soul. I won’t do that,” Valor explained.
“Do you have any good news, Valor?” Neph snapped as he returned to his seat and set the glasses and bottle between them. This wasn’t the sort of thing he was adept at dealing with. This was something for someone with more finesse than he possessed. Someone rational and compassionate, like Jala. They obviously couldn’t talk with her about it right now, though.
“Yes, actually,” Valor said in a cynical voice. He reached for the bottle and twisted the cork free before glancing up at Neph once more.
“This is Arovan wine, so it’s actually worth drinking,” he informed him as he poured them both a full glass.
* * *
“I can’t believe you joined him in drinking. You know Valor has an issue with it. Really, Neph, I expected better,” Jala’s voice was laced with anger as she stalked through the hall in front of him. Her back was rigid and her hands kept flexing into fists at her sides as if she wanted to punch him.
Neph had to fight back a laugh at the thought of it. The mental image of tiny little Jala punching someone was too much for his wine sodden brain. Perhaps if they had stopped with the first bottle he could have kept the stupid grin off his face right now, but with three bottles drained it was all but impossible. He had never really found interest in drinking to excess, but he had to admit Valor was onto something. After the first bottle, things had seemed bad, but not horrible. After the second, things were looking up, and by the time they had finished the third he really didn’t care if they were good or bad.
“Would you please stop giggling, Neph? God damn it, I have enough on my plate to deal with. I don’t need the added burden of Valor’s drinking and I truly didn’t need you drunk,” Jala railed as she whirled on him.
Neph did his best to wipe the grin off his face, but by her expression it wasn’t good enough. “So sorry,” he mumbled as he raised a hand to his face and tried desperately to wipe the grin off. By her expression, it still wasn’t working. Her violet eyes were stormy and her glare was getting more intense. “I was against the drinking right up until he told me about his dead sister money and Micah boffing a Blight. Wine sounded good then,” he slurred. The room began to spin around him and he fell back against a wall to brace himself. To his amazement, Jala didn’t seem the slightest bit alarmed. He gazed toward the window intently trying to remember what sort of spell one used to spin a house. It had to be an attack.
“Neph, let go of the magic you are drawing or I will knock you out,” Jala warned.
He turned back to her to explain why he had called o
n his power, but lost track of his words as he noticed the candlestick gripped in her hand. He fought back a snort of laughter as he stared at her make-shift weapon. He wasn’t even sure when she had picked it up. “Sorry,” Neph choked through his muffled laughter and she glared at him even more fiercely.
“First off, you are not allowed to use magic until you no longer have the desire to giggle. Understood?” Jala’s voice had taken on a parental tone and she was thumping the candlestick in her hand to emphasize each word.
“Understood,” Neph managed, though the demand seemed entirely unreasonable to him. Surely she would realize magic would be the easiest way for him to navigate the stairs unless they could somehow nullify the spell that was moving the house.
“Second, you will not speak to anyone until you have slept. If you do happen to speak with anyone you will not under any circumstance utter the phrase ‘Micah boffed a Blight’ or anything of similar meaning. If you do, I will castrate you with a dull rusty knife. Understood?” Jala continued in a quieter voice that somehow managed to be more threatening.
“Understood and not at all appreciated,” Neph said as he took a step back from Jala.
“Third, if I ever find you drunk with my fiancé again, I will lobotomize you, turn you into a woman, and leave you in Madren’s care with the suggestion that you might be his perfect match. I have no problem allowing him to romance you for the rest of eternity. Are we clear on everything?” Jala finished with a glower that could make plants wither.
“Crystal, and I’m terrified of you right now,” Neph muttered as he stared at her with new-found respect. After the mention of castration and Madren’s romance he had lost all desire to giggle. Of course, by her rules, that meant magic was allowed now so he could at least get up the stairs to his room to hide.
“By the Divine, Neph!” Jala snarled as he pulled on his power once more. A flash of movement caught his eye as he was beginning the transport spell and he looked up just in time to see the glint of silver as the candlestick connected solidly with his head.
* * *
Pain lanced through his skull in rhythmic waves. Each beat of his pulse was like thunder. Groaning, Neph sat up slowly and started to rub his face but paused instantly as a fresh wave of pain erupted from the side of his head. Gingerly, he brushed his fingers over the swollen flesh near his temple and frowned in confusion.
“Jala walloped you.” Zoelyn’s voice rose from the side of his bed and Neph spun toward the noise.
His stomach roiled with the quick movement and the pain in his head intensified. With another groan, he slumped back to his pillow and turned slowly to look at her. He had thought he was alone in his room. It was dark and had been dead silent when he woke. He couldn’t think of a single reason that she there. No one ever disturbed him in his room. “Why are you here?” he asked in the softest voice he could manage. Despite his efforts, the words seemed to echo through his skull with the volume of battle drums. He cringed and rolled onto his side, partially burying his face in the feather pillow.
“Rather pathetic when you have a hangover, aren’t you,” Zoelyn observed quietly with no trace of sympathy in her tone at all. Her dark hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail giving her a stern demeanor that suited her voice perfectly. He was still adjusting to her new appearance and he didn’t like it at all at the moment.
Neph gazed up at her with one eye, his face still turned into the pillow, and did his best to glare despite his position. “Why?” he repeated in a partially muffled voice.
“Jala told me to wait for you to wake up. She says, since you wasted part of her day with your idiocy, that you could help her by helping me. She knows you won’t train anyone so don’t bother objecting. I’m not learning magic. I’m tasting it. All you have to do is craft mage stones,” Zoelyn explained as she leaned closer to get a better look at the bruise on his head. “You can almost see the trace of the filigree from the candlestick on your bruise. Kind of a darker flower shape near the center,” she informed him.
Neph narrowed his eye at her, but remained silent. Talking was still too painful. He preferred it when she was the quiet half-starved waif.
Now that Zoelyn was healthy she was entirely too annoying, especially now. Before Seth had helped her she would hide in corners and simply watch people. Very rarely did she ever offer conversation freely or trouble him with her presence. Now, though, she was fit and energetic and Jala’s constant shadow, it seemed. She didn’t even bother with her hooded coat anymore. She had returned from the Darklands in new black leathers with what seemed to be a new body. There was barely a hint of her former self left. Where a starved girl had been, there was now a very attractive woman that had a confidence the girl had never known, and it was highly annoying. “Go away,” Neph mumbled.
“No. You wasted Jala’s time and now I’m reclaiming it. She would have had time to create the stones herself if you and Valor hadn’t attempted to drown yourselves. Between knocking you out, which, by the way, was very funny, and babysitting Valor, she lost several hours of her day,” Zoelyn responded coolly. She stared back at him with deep grey eyes and an expression of sheer stubbornness.
“I think I hate you,” Neph grumbled as he turned his face fully toward the pillow and pulled his blanket back over him.
“Fine, have it your way,” Zoelyn snapped as she rose from her chair.
Neph listened as her footsteps crossed the room and relaxed more fully. He hadn’t expected it to be that easy to get rid of her. A faint smile formed on his lips as he heard the sound of the door opening. Jala never would have given up that easily. A loud slam shook the room and Neph’s head exploded with pain. Rolling over as quickly as he could, he lifted his head just enough to stare at the door as Zoelyn calmly opened it once more and slammed it again with as much force as she could muster. “What in the hell?” Neph snapped as she pulled the door open once more and glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Shall I continue?” Zoelyn asked calmly, swinging the door lightly back and forth with one hand as she prepared for another slam.
“No, you bloody, crazy bitch,” Neph growled and winced as she slammed the door once more.
“Don’t call me a bitch,” Zoelyn warned as she opened the door once more and watched him. “I can do this all night; it barely takes any effort at all,” she informed him.
“I do hate you; I’m sure of it now,” Neph hissed as he sat up slowly in the bed. “You win. Let go of the damned door and I’ll make as many stones as you want. All you have to do is explain what the hell tasting magic means,” he wanted to strangle her so badly, but honestly didn’t think he had the strength for it quite yet. Maybe by the time he finished creating the stones she wanted he would be up to the task.
“Seth says each magic has a certain feel to it when absorbed. He says I need to be familiar with how it tastes. So I need mage stones of the different types of magics to practice sensing it. Fire, water, shadow, whatever you can manage. I need to learn it all,” Zoelyn explained in a matter of fact voice.
“Did you ever consider that maybe Seth is just regretting what he did by helping you and is looking for a way to keep you occupied so you don’t annoy the hell out of him? I’ve never heard of flavored magic before. It sounds ridiculous to me,” Neph grumbled.
“Just make the stones so I can leave you to wallow in the misery you created for yourself,” Zoelyn sighed with disgust.
“Fine, if it means you are leaving, I’m happy to do it,” Neph snapped back as he pulled on his magic and created the first stone. “May you choke during your tasting,” he added in a lower voice.
“I have never wanted to hug someone as much as I’d like to hug you right now,” Zoelyn said in an overly sweet voice.
Neph paused before creating the second stone long enough to make a rude gesture and smile coldly at her. Coming from anyone else the words were friendly enough, but a hug from Zoelyn would be fatal. Just the brush of her skin against plants caused them to wither and
any contact with a living creature was instant death. Jala was still working with Zoelyn trying to teach her restraint with her powers, but so far they hadn’t seen any improvement.
“Jala says you never drink, and she has never seen you drunk before today,” Zoelyn began in a conversational voice as she sat back in her chair.
Neph glanced up at her as she adjusted the long leather coat beneath her. The outfit she wore now was a far cry from what she wore when she arrived in Merro. Before, she had looked like a tattered peasant. Now she looked as dangerous as she truly was. Seth had done well on equipping her, though Neph couldn’t begin to guess where he had gotten the gear made. According to Jala, the leathers Zoelyn wore now were lined with lead as her former ones had been, but from the look of the slender elbow length gloves and the snug fitting vest, Neph couldn’t tell how. Zoelyn looked up and her grey eyes narrowed as she noticed his scrutiny.
“So what made you decide to drain the bottles today?” she continued in a voice that seemed somewhat colder.
“Politics,” Neph replied shortly. It wasn’t really something he wanted to go into detail on. Let Valor or Jala explain the problems. He had no idea where to begin or what to keep secret.
“Pity you can’t gem the world like you did your people, eh?” Zoelyn said dryly.
“You know it’s rather obvious that we don’t like each other. So why not keep this a quieter affair? You can shut the hell up and I will make the stones and we can part ways,” Neph snapped as he dropped another of the mage stones onto his bed and gave her a withering glare.
“All bark,” Zoelyn sighed and Neph’s hands tightened in response. He had never hit a woman, but he wasn’t entirely sure that Zoelyn qualified. “I honestly don’t know why Jala loves you so much. You are an ass,” she added with a slight shake of her head.
The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4 The Blessed Curse Page 25