“You drugged us,” she mumbled, her mind too foggy for clear thought.
“I did, and you would be wise to find a place to lie down before it fully takes effect,” Anthe replied sweetly and stepped from the doorway.
I hope she is truly on our side, Marrow said, his voice distant in her mind as sleep pulled heavily at her.
“Valor,” Jala mumbled and shook the knight. He mumbled slightly but didn’t stir beyond that. “Valor,” she repeated, trying to force her voice louder. Another yawn tore at her and she slumped forward, shaking her head. Blinking she staggered to her feet and managed a few steps before the darkness overwhelmed her. She had the faint sense of falling before all thoughts faded away.
* * *
“Jala, wake up,” a soft voice called from what seemed a thousand miles away.
Jala forced her eyes open and blinked at the darkened room. It took her long moments to remember where she was. Anthe was leaning over her with a lantern held carefully in her hands. “I’m awake,” she mumbled and rubbed her eyes.
“Good, now see if you can wake him up. When you do join us outside. We are ready.” Anthe waved a hand past her and set the lantern down carefully on a table. “We moved you in here while you slept. I didn’t think you would appreciate sleeping on the floor. It is a good thing the Bendazzi broke your fall or you would be covered in bruises now. The protection magics have already been cast upon you. All that remains is to open the gate. We will begin the spell when you are both ready.”
Jala turned her head slightly in the direction Anthe had indicated and stared at the sleeping form of Valor for a long moment before her mind began to work fully again. They were lying on a quilt covered bed in what she guessed was Anthe’s own room. She couldn’t imagine the Witch having a guest room made up so comfortably. “That is some very impressive tea, Anthe,” she mumbled and reached over to shake Valor lightly. “Val, wake up.” He shifted slightly and shook his head before rolling away from her. Sitting up, she grabbed his shoulder firmly and shook him again. “Val, come on, wake up,” she said in a louder voice. He mumbled something incoherent.
He drank almost the full cup. I’m amazed he isn’t in a coma, Marrow informed her dryly.
Nodding, Jala turned on the bed and placed a foot in the center of Valor’s back. With a quick shove she pushed him off the bed. There was a loud thump followed quickly by a curse and she leaned over to see Valor glaring up at her. “Oh, good, you are awake,” she said sweetly smiling down at him.
“I will remember that,” Valor promised and climbed slowly to his feet, his eyes still fogged with sleep. With another muffled curse he rubbed the back of his head and gave her a mild glare.
“They are ready to open the gate,” she told him quietly.
His expression cleared and all traces of sleep fled his dark blue eyes. With a nod he stretched and she rose to join him. “Well then let’s get Finn,” he said with a faint smile.
“Are you scared?” she asked, watching his expression.
“Nervous. I wouldn’t say scared, though,” Valor replied and raised an eyebrow at her.
She nodded and waved a hand toward him. “Nervous, like you said,” she said with a faint chuckle. Turning, she made her way to the door and lifted her pack onto her shoulder.
Valor followed after her silently as they left the cabin and stepped out into the cold night air. The witches had built a bonfire in the clearing and the flames fought back some of the chill, but not much. Valor let out a quick breath and pulled his cloak tighter around him before going to retrieve his horse.
He spared a quick glance toward the small group of women near the fire as he walked but quickly looked away. Jala smiled in understanding. Of the five witches by the fire, Anthe was the only one wearing clothing.
“We are taking him with us?” she asked in surprise as he led the animal back to stand beside her, his eyes still carefully averted from the fire.
“Of course,” Valor replied with a smile and ran a hand down the horse’s neck. “I would never take Vanguard on such a journey, he is a tournament horse. Valorous is an Arovanni though. His sole purpose is for things such as this. The Arovanni are sacred and are only used in the most dire of times,” he explained.
“I see, well we will most definitely be back within three moons then,” she said with a smile and turned to watch the witches as they began to chant. Anthe stood at the northern side of the bonfire, her hands upraised and her eyes closed. Her voice was the first to begin the chant but the others quickly joined their voices. Moonlight glinted off pale skin as they swayed in place. The air thickened as the spell grew stronger and the clearing seemed to grow thicker with shadows.
“So, Neph never taught you this kind of magic eh?” Valor asked quietly with a bit of a smirk.
She grinned at the mental image of the somber Delvayon casting anything naked in the moonlight. “No, I’m afraid he didn’t,” she replied with a bit of a chuckle. Her nerves were on edge and she could feel her adrenaline rising as the shadows thickened more and began to form an archway over the fire.
“Valor.” She paused and looked over at him. He met her eyes and arched an eyebrow in question. “What are you scared of?” she asked. She was yet to see the knight balk at anything. Even now he stood calmly as if he was simply awaiting a table at a café.
“Failure. The thought of failing those I care for terrifies me more than anything,” he replied softly.
She nodded slowly and looked back toward the shadow gate. By the looks of it the spell was nearly complete. “I’m afraid of loss more than anything. Everything I care about, I lose.” Taking a deep breath she knelt down and hugged Marrow, kissing him on the top of the head and then stood slowly again looking back to Valor who was watching her silently. “Don’t add to that fear, Valor. We walk in there together and we walk back out together, OK?”
He offered her his hand and she took it, keeping her gaze on him. “We walk in together, and walk back out with Finn,” he said with a smile and looked back toward the witches.
“Thank you for going with me Valor,” she whispered as Anthe nodded for them to step forward. Jala stared at the writhing shadows of the gate and tried to ignore the shadow-wrapped faces that stared back at her. A sound like a thousand voices whispering echoed through the archway.
“What are friends for,” Valor said with a faint chuckle and shook his head at the gate before looking down at her. “If any of those faces bite me as we walk, though, you better be ready to heal.”
“Oh gods, you see them too,” she whispered. She had been hoping they were a trick of the light.
“Step through quickly, the dead fight to close the way!” Anthe called to them, her voice sounding strained.
Squeezing her hand again, Valor stepped forward with her. Valorous was close behind the two of them, snorting softly in displeasure. Jala turned her head quickly and looked back to Marrow who crouched on the porch watching her with fear clear in his eyes. “I’ll be back Marrow I promise,” she called as they stepped into the ring of shadows surrounding the arch. The whispering grew louder as the darkness closed over them and she gripped Valor’s hand tighter as they stepped fully into the arch. The ground seemed to sag beneath her boots and the air grew painfully cold.
“I envy Finn right now, Jala,” Valor said softly as the last of the light vanished behind them. “This is something that bards will sing about for centuries to come.”
“If we live,” she whispered quietly.
“They will sing regardless, if we die it will be a tragic song, if we live it will be a romance,” he replied with a soft chuckle.
“I’ve had enough tragedy, Valor. Let’s make sure they sing a romance,” she replied as the whispering grew louder still.
She could see bodies moving in the shadows now rather than simply faces. They were circling the three of them like wolves as they moved. She watched them as the shadows began to lighten to the color of twilight and slowly released Valor’s hand.
<
br /> “I don’t think those are spirits Val,” she whispered as the creatures moved in closer. Their bodies were gaunt and taller than any human with black skin stretched tight over bones. Jagged teeth protruded from overlarge mouths ending in sharp cruel points.
She heard Valor draw his sword beside her and drew upon her own power. “Father had been a soldier and he had thwarted the plans of a Sorcerer. So for revenge, the evil Sorcerer had stolen her away to the Darklands. Father had been a soldier, though, and he cut the demons of the Darklands down with his sword,” she whispered to herself reciting the story she had pieced together in the ashes of Merro so many years ago. “Now we are the heroes, though, and heroes always win,” she added in a softer voice as the first of the creatures rushed in.
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The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams Page 46