The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams

by Melissa Myers

  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.

  The spirit dropped, bent to the floor, and knelt, head bowed over the drops of the Soulreaver’s blood. The departure of the shadows had granted faint color to the dead woman. Jala stared at the long dark curls concealing her mother’s face and wondered idly how she had never known her mother’s hair had the same curl as hers. She had never seen it down before she supposed. It had always been braided and tidy. “Jala my child is the last remaining Merrodin. Born of rape and raised with love, I kept her hidden and safe,” The voice was her mother’s. There was no question, but it seemed weak and broken as she spoke the words. “Never would I have told you this, Jala,” she said as she slowly raised her head to Jala. “I would know who has told you this secret,” she demanded quietly her eyes locked on Jala’s pale violet eyes, Jala realized with a start. Her mother’s eyes had been hazel in every memory she had of the woman.

  “Your eyes,” Jala stammered dumbly.

  “Were always hidden as yours should have been,” her mother replied, her expression filled with grief. “Who has fed your soul to these monsters?” her mother asked, once more in a choked whisper.

  “Anthe of Goswin told me who I was, in truth. She has fed my soul to no one though. I sought her out to ask her. Mother, I would have found out, and better sooner than later, I think,” Jala replied, unsure what she could say to bring the spirit peace.

  “Better that you had died with me than become what they are,” the spirit hissed.

  “I think that is quite enough,” Ash said and clenched his cut hand. The spirit jerked as if on strings and fell silent. “Her words name you Merrodin. Do you still wish to question your father’s spirit? I sense a great deal more rage in that one.”

  “If the council is still not convinced, then we must,” Jala replied and slowly pushed herself straighter in her chair. She stared at her mother’s spirit for a long moment and then turned her gaze to the council. “Are you unconvinced?” she asked, her voice level despite the unshed tears in her eyes.

  “It truly doesn’t matter if they are convinced. I’m here and you have your votes,” A familiar voice called from the doorway. Stepping forward through the gloom, Lord Han’shy paused beside her chair and looked down at her. “Interesting method
of proof, however.” His clothes were torn around the edges and faint rust colored smudges dotted the pale yellow linen. “My apologies for my tardiness. I had some issues to deal with in my quarter,” he said with a smirk, his gaze lingering on the council table.

  “Is that blood on you?” Lady Nerathane sniffed in disgust.

  “I thought I washed most of it off,” Lord Han’shy grumbled, looking down at his tunic. With a shrug of his massive shoulders, he looked back toward the council table. “Shall we call a vote then?” he asked.

  “I’m done with this farce. Justice is blind in this hall,” Lord Avanti stood quickly and gathered his cloak from the back of the chair, drawing looks from most in the room. “I will be in touch with you Morcaillo.” He gave his fellow lord a curt nod and spun on his heels toward the door.

  “Hmph, never thought my company was quite that offensive,” Han’shy said quietly looking down to her with a grin.

  “If the dead are no longer needed, could you please send them back to rest Lord Zachary?” Ash said, his gaze locked on the silently sobbing form of Jala’s mother.

  “Please,” Jala echoed, quietly knowing she wouldn’t be able to get the image of her dead mother out of her mind for months.

  “As you like,” Lord Zachary agreed, and flicked his hand toward the spirits. With a rush of cold air the forms dissipated back into shadow and the room brightened once more.

  “Interesting council,” General Troyelle muttered as he watched the remaining opposition leave the room looking rather indignant. “So what kept you, Han’shy?” he demanded.

  “A libraries worth of complaints and paperwork when I arrived in my quarter,” Jin Han’shy replied.

  “Paperwork bleeds in your district?” Troyelle asked, flicking his hand in the direction of his ruined tunic.

  Jin shook his head slowly and dropped into a chair beside Jala. “No, paperwork doesn’t, the corrupt official that brought it to me does, however. I took care to send him back to Morcaillo’s district for burial. As far as I see it, if he was his in life, the man should be his in death,” he smiled as he spoke and glanced sideways at Jala. “Congratulations on your freedom Lady Merrodin. Will you be taking over your own district now?”

  “I will. I’ve already begun rebuilding,” she replied and searched the faces of everyone at the table. She couldn’t decide if she should warn them of the Blights in the city. In all fairness, they had come to her rescue and most of them had children in the city. With a sigh she folded her hands on the table. “I have had some delays, however, as there seems to be a minor infestation of creatures in the city,” she paused and turned her gaze to General Troyelle. “The same creatures that are infecting Gaelyn as it happens. My Bendazzi has already slain one of them as has Finn. I’m unsure how many more there are,”

  “Then it would seem the problem we thought we had is much more dangerous than any of us knew,” Lord Arjuna said quietly and glanced around the table to his fellows. “Let us debate this issue a bit before we leave and try to find a solution to this problem,” he suggested.

  “How did your Bendazzi, or Finn for that matter, manage to find them to kill?” General Troyelle asked, leaning forward in his seat. It was obvious the man was desperate for any knowledge that could help his own land with the Blights.

  “I believe both of them used nothing more than predator instincts,” Jala replied softly, wishing she had more to give the man.

  “I see,” Troyelle replied, the flicker of hope completely drained from his voice. “Let us debate then and see what we can find,” he said with a nod of agreement to Arjuna.

  Jala watched them for a moment then turned sharply as she noticed Ash heading for the door. “Ash, wait a moment please,” she called softly, not wanting to interfere with her fellow lords. Rising quickly she nodded to them and crossed the room to the Soulreaver. “I don’t even know what I owe you for helping me today,” she whispered.

  “I have already received my payment,” Ash said, smiling down at her. He chuckled lightly at her look of confusion and motioned toward where Jexon had been sitting. “Did you see the look of bitter irritation on his face when I agreed to help you?” he asked. She shook her head slowly and he shrugged. “Well I did, and that is all that matters. That expression on the Lord Reaver’s face was worth more than gold to me. I consider it adequate payment for the little I did for you,” he explained.

  “Are you sure?” she asked in disbelief.

  “Positive. I must go for now, but when you are ready to break the curse, I will find you once more,” he said, bowing his head to her with respect.

  “How did you know?” she asked, watching him as he began moving once more for the door.

  “The dead speak loudly of it, Lady Merrodin, loudly and joyously,” he replied.

  “Then how did my mother not know of it?” she asked puzzled.

  Ash shifted his gaze to Zachary for the barest of moments and she saw a glimpse of anger. “The dead in Oblivion are cut off from the natural cycle. The shadows that cling to your mother’s soul are traces of the corruption from Oblivion. They do not see or hear as a pure soul would. They see only what Oblivion allows,” he explained and bowed his head to her once more. “I will see you again soon, Lady Merrodin. We will speak more then,” he promised before stepping through the doorway without another glance back.

  She stared at the door for a moment and then moved back to her seat, her mind whirling. If the dead spoke to him of it, how many others must know? She wasn’t entirely sure how many Spiritcallers there were, or whose side they were on, for that matter.

  Chapter 13

  Fionahold

  Symphony stared down at the map in front of her in dismay. It was among the latest reports of movements the Fionaveir had gathered. Not only had Arovan and Glis mobilized their forces, it showed movement from Rivana troops as well as Delvay. The northern armies were, of course, mobilizing to deal with the Blight infestation, but the Southern movements could only mean war between nations. As far as their intelligence showed, the Blights were primarily in Gaelyn at this time. Looking up, she eyed Caspian with concern. “Is there anything we can do to stop this before it starts?” she asked quietly.

  “Delvay is not a land that listens to my council. As far as I know they don’t listen to any council other than their own. Rivana, on the other hand, see us as outlaws and should I attempt negotiations with them they would have me hanged,” he explained with a frown. “It’s going to come to blood, Symphony, there is nothing we can do to stop it.”

  “What of Nerathane?” she asked, her eyes automatically flicking to the lower section of that continent where the dragons’ land rested.

  “So far we have no news of movement. The dragons don’t have to mobilize though. If they do decide to send forces it will be done by the time we get word,” Caspian replied.

  “Another question you should be asking is why Delvay chose to send Kadan to Sanctuary for the trial. Politically, that could be important in the future. Nephondelvayon was in Sanctuary and could have sat as proxy for his lord father, but instead they chose to send Kadan. To send Kadan to Sanctuary while they are mobilizing troops is risky. Why do you suppose they did it?” Faramir asked, moving closer to the table.

  “Perhaps Kadan was intrigued from his first meeting with her and wanted to see what the trial would bring?” Symphony offered with hesitation.

  “Perhaps Lord Delvayon does not trust his younger son’s judgment and wanted Kadan there for a matter as important as the rise of a fallen house,” Faramir countered. “If that is so, you should take note of it. It means the youngest Delvayon lord is politically worthless in his country.”

  Frowning, Caspian shook his head slightly and sighed, “I never cared much for politics,” he admitted and leaned back heavily in his chair.

  Nodding slightly, Symphony contemplated Faramir’s words and couldn’t help but notice the absence of the other councilors. She was sure Lutheron would have had input on the topic. While C
aspian did seem to despise politics, Lutheron seemed to know the why and how of every political move. It was as if the man thrived on intrigue. “Where did Lutheron ride to this morning. I heard them leaving in the early hours. I’m assuming it was Lutheron, anyway, since he isn’t here,” Symphony said, her gaze flicking between Caspian and Faramir.

  “We received word late last night that a spell hawk had touched down near Eldagar. Apparently Lutheron had scouts there to keep watch. That same spell hawk was traced to Northern Faydwer early this morning. Lutheron and Vaze rode out with a few others to investigate,” Caspian explained.

  “You think someone is purposely moving Blights into our area,” Symphony concluded, her expression filled with disbelief. “But that would mean someone was intentionally working with Kali …” Her voice trailed off and she met Caspian’s gaze. “Then you believe what Kiernan said, that Myth is working with Kali on this?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure if I do. It’s not that I don’t think Myth would work with Kali. It’s that I don’t think Kali would work with Myth. My thoughts on the matter aside, though, Lutheron seems to believe they are working together and this spell hawk may be what proves him right,” Caspian said wearily.

  “Well then, we should pray Shade’s plan succeeds if they are simply using Eldagar as a breeding pit against the rest of the world. I don’t understand why Kali works so hard against us,” Symphony sighed and fell back in her chair. The sight of the maps and the Blight infestation was depressing beyond anything she had ever dealt with.

  “I wouldn’t put too much faith in an untried boy,” Caspian warned.

  “What do you think Faramir?” Symphony asked, looking over to her mentor who seemed oddly quiet on the subject.

  Faramir looked up from the map and sighed heavily. “At this point I don’t even know where the boy is. If word reached him about Oma, he might not even be working on his plan.”