The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes

by Melissa Myers

  The Elder Blood Chronicles – Book Three

  From The Ashes

  by Melissa Myers

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2011, 2012, 2013 Melissa Myers

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is coincidental.

  All rights reserved, except as permitted by U.S. Copyrights Act of 1976.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without prior written permission of the author.

  Prologue

  Stars lit the sky with a brilliance that seemed blinding after countless days in the Darklands. Jala paused on the cobbled street and stared up at the night sky as she tried to remember why she was no longer in the Darklands, or where Valor was, for that matter. Her mind was fogged and sluggish. The last she could remember was exhausted riding toward something they didn’t know how to reach. Her gaze moved from the stars to the red moon rising in the sky. Her father had called that a blood moon. By hearth tales, it meant someone would die.

  “Will it be you or her?”

  The sound of the man’s voice brought her attention swiftly from the heavens to the strange city around her. It had seemed deserted before. He stood leaning in the doorway of one of the buildings, his face mostly obscured by shadows. The armor he wore was mismatched – a chain shirt, plate mail pauldrons, leather gauntlets. It was as if he had scavenged a battlefield to dress. He stepped out into the street as she studied him, allowing the dim light to bathe him. Two swords hung crossed on his back and she felt a memory stir at the sight before the fog of her mind thickened. Confusion welled in her again and she tried to force her mind to work. Should she know him? He acted as though he knew her.

  “It was called Shaedrin when it still stood. Nothing but rubble and ruin now,” he said as he turned, his gaze traveling over the shadowed city.

  Jala frowned and looked at the buildings around her. They were hardly what she considered rubble.

  “This is how it looked when it stood, Jala. This is a waking dream. I apologize for your confusion. I’m afraid that’s my doing. I can’t let your mind work too quickly, you see. If you grow alarmed, you wake up. I can’t reach you in the sunlit lands. The others guard you too closely and my power isn’t what it once was. There are things we must speak of though.” His voice held a note of sadness and he let out a long breath.

  “They guard me?” Jala asked, wondering who exactly he was speaking of. Her friends?

  He looked back at her and a smile warmed his youthful face. “Guard implies they protect you doesn’t it? I’ve chosen the wrong word. Let’s say they shelter you then. I didn’t even know a child of my blood had been born. It wasn’t until very recently that I realized you existed. They have hidden you from me since your first breath. Had I known…” His voice trailed off and he sighed wistfully. “Well, spilled milk now I suppose, and no use crying over it. Let us see what we can salvage from what they have done.”

  “You are Merrodin?” Jala asked dumbly and started to step back.

  He laughed and shook his head quickly. “No, no. I’m not Merrodin, Jala. I’m related from your mother’s side. Your Grandfather, I suppose the mortals would call it. To me it is simply a blood tie. You are my line.”

  “I thought my family was all dead.” She spoke slowly, still watching him closely. “What is your name?” She wasn’t sure exactly why she asked. Her mother had never spoken of any of her family, so even if he was speaking the truth she wouldn’t recognize it.

  “True name? Not even I can remember that far back. I’ve traveled by a variety of names through the years. It depends on what land I’m in for what name I call myself. When they speak of me, however, they all use the same name, War.” He grinned again and winked at her shocked expression. “You knew the gold blood came from your mother’s line. So why do you look so shocked.” He motioned ahead with one hand and raised an eyebrow at her. “Would you like to see one of the most beautiful cities ever built? The Veyetta spared no expense when they built Shaedrin. The murals and statues here are exceptional. I almost felt bad when it was destroyed. Almost.”

  Jala nodded and fell into step beside him. Her eyes roamed over the architecture as they walked. Each building was carved from black or deep grey stone with beautiful scroll work lining the doors and windows. “What did you wish to speak with me about?” she asked when the silence stretched between them.

  “Partly of your journey in the Darklands and what you hope to accomplish there, and partly of those you believe allies and how they have fucked you,” War replied, his voice calm.

  “I’m in the Darklands to retrieve Finn’s spirit. That is all I wish to accomplish. As to the other, I’m not sure which allies you are speaking of.” Her mind had cleared a bit. Despite that, however, his words were still confusing.

  “Let’s discuss the first and then move on to the second,” War suggested, and motioned to the side toward a statue. “High Lady Veyetta. She was a remarkable woman. Beautiful, graceful, deadly, and completely and utterly insane.”

  Jala gazed at the statue. Whoever had crafted the piece had been a true master. Lady Veyetta stood poised on a pillar overlooking her city, her posture looking both regal and elegant. The stone had been cut so cunningly that it seemed a strong wind would stir her long hair. “It’s beautiful,” she agreed, glancing back at him. He was watching her closely and the light shining off his dark eyes revealed their true color of deep purple.

  “She is a lesson for you. That’s the reason I chose this place for our meeting. She wasn’t born mad. It wasn’t a genetic fault in her line, Jala. Lady Veyetta’s madness came from too much pain and too much power. She held every loss and every grievance close to her heart and over the years they took their toll. At the end, she was seeing enemies everywhere and punishing before crimes were committed. It was one of her own line that finished her finally. Ironically, I believe you travel with his son now.”

  “What was it that broke her finally?” Jala asked, her gaze locked on the statue. Jala could understand the woman’s pain all too well. The night in Sanctuary after Finn’s death had been her own brush with madness. She couldn’t even guess how many Justicars she had killed as she vented her rage.

  “I’m not sure if it was the strikes against her, or her own failures to stop them. The Veyetta were lords of darkness you see. They had a saying ‘The Shadows know all.’ That was actually House Veyetta’s motto. The shadows whispered to them and brought them news of their enemies. Despite that, Veyetta still suffered loss. Her son first, then later her husband. Despite her attempts, Death would not release their souls back to her, and unlike you, she was forced to accept their loss and her own failure. She never thought to challenge a Divine. She was arrogant, but not quite as arrogant as you.” He seemed amused as he spoke, despite the harshness of his words.

  “You think I’m arrogant?” Jala asked, turning from the statue to meet his gaze.

  “Undoubtedly, and more so than I’ve seen in anyone else in a very long time. You are truly a child of my line,” he replied with a grin.

  “I call it determined,” Jala countered.

  “Call it what you will. My question is a simple one. Can you win against Death? You’ve barely had time to train in your magics and while your skill is impressive, it is rough. She will not release his soul without a fight, Jala. You had guessed that, though, I’m sure.”
There was no trace of scolding in his voice, simply a question.

  “If I want Finn back, I suppose I had better win,” Jala replied softly.

  “Not good enough. You risk three lives in this endeavor as well as an Arovanni, and while I’m not opposed to risks I am opposed to throwing lives away needlessly. Death is corrupt. You saw how the Rivasan boy returned, but others don’t. Death has either gone mad or has been seduced by your enemies. If you die, or Valor, or your unborn child, there is no retrieving the soul. You will be trapped here in the Darklands as countless other souls are. Death is not sending them back to the life stream or to their gods, as she should. There is no rebirth in death, only eternal darkness. Now I ask again, can you win?” He raised an eyebrow and waited for her answer.

  “No, not alone, but with Valor I can,” Jala replied after a long moment’s consideration. The thought of being forever trapped in the Darklands was terrifying to her. She had, of course, known it would be dangerous to come after Finn, but the thought of actually failing hadn’t yet crossed her mind.

  War nodded slowly and began to walk once more. “I suppose that will have to do. At least you have enough wisdom to know you shouldn’t attack a Divine in a fortified city alone.”

  “Actually it was Valor that insisted on coming. Credit him with the wisdom. I was going to come alone,” Jala admitted.

  “Jala, there are few enough people in this world that will give you a compliment. Accept them when you receive them, even if you don’t truly deserve them.” War chuckled at her with a faint smile. “Now, as to the second matter. Do you have any idea how much they have manipulated you, or are you only seeing the fringe of it all?”

  “I’m not even entirely sure who you mean by ‘they.’ Are you speaking of the Fionaveir or the Aspects?” Jala asked. “If it’s the Aspects, I know they used magic on Finn,” she added with a bit of disgust.

  “Let me paint a broader picture for you as to the current events and we will see if you can answer that yourself. I’ll lessen the fog on your mind for this, but do not over react. Serenity in the face of complications will get you farther than anger.” He paused and winked at her.

  “That doesn’t seem like a very war-like attitude,” Jala pointed out mildly.

  “On the contrary. The best commanders have the coolest heads. It’s those that lose their temper that generally lose the fight. What did you expect from the Divine of war, a bloodthirsty testosterone filled ape?”

  “Well yes, actually,” Jala admitted bluntly.

  War snorted in amusement and shook his head. “Not from me. It’s nearly impossible to force me to lose my temper anymore, but Lutheron has come close this time.”

  “Lutheron? The Fionaveir?” Jala cut in. She had her own grievances with Lutheron for the mind block he had saddled her with as a child.

  War snorted again louder and shook his head. “He is so much more than that, but I will explain it later. For now, let’s look at what they have done so far. The patronage of Fortune as your guardian was a hoax. While Fortune may have actually guarded you as he could, it was arranged to mask your own natural abilities. Merrodin is a Bloodline that thrives on luck. The wish magic they held was the most powerful of their gifts, but not the only gift. You have the ability to manipulate the odds as much as Fortune himself does. If you can learn to use the gift, that is.”

  “Why would they not want me to know that? If I’m truly their ally, surely that would help both of us?” Jala asked quickly before he could continue. They were walking by gardens now and the scent of the night blooming flowers reminded her of Firym. She closed her eyes a moment and inhaled while silently wishing she was back at that point of her life.

  “They don’t want you to become too powerful to control. They have a healthy respect for my line, and you are not quite as far under their thumb as they would like. As to why they didn’t keep you closer to them, the only reason I can determine is that you couldn’t have close connections with the Fionaveir when you took over the Merrodin lands,” War explained with a shrug. “Now past Fortune masking your innate skills, we have other manipulations. Shade, for example. Did you notice how quickly they replaced him when it appeared there was mutual interest there? Do you have any idea why?”

  “Shade? He is my friend, or was, anyway. I will admit, when I first arrived in Sanctuary I was attracted to him. He lost my interest when he left us to rot in Rivana. I understand why he did it, but it didn’t earn him any of my respect,” Jala explained.

  “Imagine your drive to fix the world combined with Shade’s desire to change things. He never could while under Myth’s thumb, but married to you as High Lord Merrodin he would have answered to no one but you. Combine that with the fact that he is a very powerful Changeling and the two of you become a force that no one wants to deal with. So they formed a soul bond with a dashing young man that had a very short life expectancy. Even before meeting you, Finn Sovaesh was courting Death daily. Understand better now?” He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow and motioned to a bench near the gardens.

  Jala nodded and took a seat. “You are saying they sacrificed Finn to me to occupy my heart long enough for them to get Shade out of the picture.” She spoke hesitantly, not wanting to accept that Finn had died for something so petty.

  “Essentially. Notice Shade joined the Fionaveir? So ironic eh? I promise, Lutheron didn’t factor in your trip to the Darklands, though. You are supposed to be mourning right now.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head at her in a mock scolding. “Arrogant child, don’t you know how to properly follow plans?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “I won’t be their puppet any longer,” Jala declared firmly.

  “Good to hear. Now all we have to do is teach you to recognize intrigue. I am going to ask you a delicate question now. Please try not to get too upset. If your emotions rise, you will wake. How well do you trust your companions? They swore fealty so quickly to you. Did they mean their vows or are they part of the puppet show?”

  “I don’t want to doubt any of them, but you are right. They did swear fealty quickly and before they truly had a chance to know me. I had wondered at that, but I thought it was for Finn. But now Finn is dead and they still stand by me. Are you saying that my friends are not truly friends?” Jala asked, her stomach clenching at the thought. She forced her emotions back to calm and let out a slow breath.

  War worked his jaw from left to right as he pondered the matter. “Sovann, I believe, is genuine. He has no ties elsewhere that I’ve seen. Valor is disgraced in Arovan and because of that has no ties elsewhere. Jail… Well now, he is a tricky one. Watch him and decide for yourself. Neph, he is Delvay. I can’t believe that he is following you honestly and I highly doubt he is anyone else’s lackey. Wisp, as with Jail, I have suspicions on. Her brother is Fionaveir and her House works with them very closely. Watch her. I don’t like your new addition of Joseph Walker, either. It was rather convenient that he showed up in Sanctuary wasn’t it?”

  “Valor is disgraced? Why?” Jala asked, dumbfounded by the thought.

  “By his knightly order, not by his family. Suffice it to say that in recent years he has broken more than one of his knightly vows. Drunken debauchery being his most frequent sin. You latched onto that quickly enough. Care to explain why?” War asked as he plucked a flower from behind them and shifted to sit cross-legged on the bench.

  “If not for his help in the Darklands, I think I would already be dead. It just doesn’t seem possible that he is disgraced, but I suppose if it is from debauchery, then I understand it. I’ve certainly witnessed enough of that in Sanctuary. I just need someone to trust right now, and Valor is all I have. Without Finn and Marrow I feel lost,” Jala explained, trying to ignore the irony of her words. Even with Valor she was lost, literally. They had been in the Darklands for close to two weeks now and still had no idea of where they needed to go.

  “Don’t let it trouble you. It’s Arovan and they have changed quite a bit in th
eir captivity. Beyond the barrier they were Warlords. Here they have become Nobles. You can get disgraced in Arovan by passing wind in the wrong room. Very prickly these days. I think it all started getting worse with the fall of Veir. Arovan apparently decided that someone needed to fill the void of the Holier-than-Thou pricks in plate mail.”

  “I have a question for you,” Jala began and watched him until he met her eyes. “What do you want from me? Why are you helping me? I have a hard time believing it’s simply our Blood tie.”

  His smile broadened and he nodded to her. “Well, of course I want something. Everyone does. I’ll let you in on a secret, Jala. Life is one big manipulation. From your mother telling you scary stories to get you to behave, to your husband buying flowers to sweeten your mood. It is all individuals out to get what they want from you. However, what I want from you is exactly what you want, so my advice is the only bribe I need offer. I want my namesake, Jala, I want war.”

  “You are going to get that regardless. Delvay is already fighting against Rivana. Even if they weren’t, though, how could I possibly provide that for you? I have no armies,” Jala replied in a disgusted voice.

  “I didn’t ask for one tomorrow, Jala. Let me tell you how it will happen if you don’t prepare soon. You can trust me on this as well. I know the forces fighting and I can see the broader picture. The Blights are going to pick off Arovan and Glis like Assassins. Nerathane and Rivana will destroy Delvay. The Blights will weaken the Firym and Faydwer enough that Morcaillo and Avanti will crush them. Then Han’shy will surrender and house Morcaillo will step forward as King or Emperor, whichever title he decides he prefers.” He plucked petals from the flower as he spoke casting each down as he listed the falling houses.

  “What about Oblivion?” Jala asked.

  “They might stir, but let’s look at the full picture there as well. Oblivion is actually worse off than you are. Zachary and Tyber are the only living occupants of the country. Beyond them there is nothing but tainted souls in their population,” War explained and tossed two petals down onto the bench in front of her.