“If you say so,” Emily repeated, moving her position again as she spoke. She never stayed put after making noise. It just wasn’t safe. Sovann wasn’t that paranoid though, she noted as she came to a stop right behind him. His head was still bent forward, his attention fully on his project. He didn’t worry at all about what was around him, or what might happen. One quick blow to the spine and he turns from annoying mage to meat, the voice whispered again and Emily stared hard at the bronzed skin on the back of Sovann’s neck. His hair was pulled back in a tail tied loosely at the base of his neck, just barely revealing that sweet spot on a human’s spine. The spot that held so many nerve endings and was so fragile. One blow there and no matter if it was Immortal or human, it was incapacitated.
“I think we almost have it, Emily. A few more days and I think I’ll be able to create the first runes,” Sovann said absently, once again speaking to the wrong area of the room.
Emily arched her brows and smiled faintly. He should learn to heed the advice she gave, even if it was directed toward the child. A little more fear would do wonders for Sovann’s survival.
Her attention snapped up as the door opened once more and Jail stepped into the room. Emily watched the big mage as he surveyed the room, then smiled faintly at Sovann. “I wondered if I might borrow Emily for a time. I think she is due for a bit of therapy today,” he said in a calm voice, though the expression in his eyes was one of anger. He was dressed casually in a loose tunic and breeches and, as always, had a neatness about him that seemed at odds with his huge muscular frame. The only difference she noted was the slender hilt of a sword that showed just over his left shoulder. Emily had never seen Jail armed before. He always fought with his bare hands.
Sovann glanced up at him and nodded faintly. “Of course, Jail. I hadn’t realized she was to meet with you. Forgive me for delaying her. I’ll see you tomorrow, Emily.” There was warmth in his voice as he spoke her name and Emily felt a twinge in her chest at the sound of it.
“Right behind you, Jail,” Emily whispered not bothering to respond to Sovann. It didn’t seem right to treat him as a friend with her earlier thoughts of meat.
“Ahh, how about right beside me, as friends should walk,” Jail countered and offered his arm to the open air beside him.
“I don’t think we will fit through the door that way,” Emily objected dryly.
“We will turn sideways at the door. Take my arm, Emily,” Jail said proffering his arm once more.
You were in my head. I thought you said you didn’t do that. Emily prodded through a mind link as she took his arm gently, a faint smile creasing her lips. Perhaps Jail wasn’t too bad after all. At least he knew a bit of fear and respect.
I suppose it’s a good thing I lied, considering how deeply you were considering turning Sovann into a snack. You were supposed to come to me if the instincts returned, Jail scolded as he opened the door and led them both out.
I wanted to eat him, not fuck him, Emily replied in amusement. The first weeks of her maturity had been incredibly difficult. The primary instincts for a Blight were to kill and mate, though they only mated with superior creatures. Unfortunately, Jala only surrounded herself with superior creatures. It had been Jail that had helped her through that trial and kept her from molesting the several available and no doubt willing males she was around. Even Madren had been a temptation to her, though he was only a half-blood, and she had no doubt whatsoever that he would have been willing.
The agreement was for instincts that you didn’t agree with, Jail reminded her sternly.
What makes you think I didn’t agree with the instinct to eat Sovann? He has been rather obnoxious lately with his blood drawing and such, Emily pointed out calmly.
Truthfully, you don’t disagree with that desire at all? Jail asked and the disapproval was thick in his voice.
I don’t think I would miss him, Emily replied. She searched inside herself looking for any scrap of regret and shrugged the shoulder that he was closest too. While he couldn’t see the gesture, he could feel it through her contact with his arm.
Your mother would be disappointed, Jail said coldly and Emily felt guilt crash against her.
In the beginning her mother’s words had always echoed in her mind, but they had grown less frequent lately and the louder whisper of the other voice had begun to influence her. I think it’s because they are closer now, and there are so many. It’s hard to separate myself from them, she explained to Jail, the remorse at last flooding through her. Jail was right. Her mother would be disappointed. She had wanted a beautiful daughter, not a monster. Help me learn to ignore them, Emily asked with a light squeeze on Jail’s arm for emphasis.
Gladly, if it will keep you from eating my friends. Jail’s voice had lost a bit of its tension and she could feel the muscles of his arm relaxing – the nice firm muscles of his arm. Her gaze roamed from where her hand rested on his forearm up the path to his broad shoulder. He was impressive in form. Aspects be damned, Emily, Jail said, it really is fuck or fight with the Blights, isn’t it. Not saying it’s not flattering to be admired like a piece of meat, but with a Blight doing it, it’s flattering and frightening at the same time.
Emily chuckled softly and let out a long sigh. Sorry, Jail, I didn’t realize I was slipping this much. You really are quite tasty looking though. The arm beneath her hand tensed again and she chuckled again.
Please don’t ever say that again, Jail requested gently, and paused in his steps as a figure left the main house. By the coloring and dress Emily guessed it was Wisp’s brother, though she had never met the man before. He moved past them with barely a nod and headed straight toward a massive white horse. “Safe journeys, Victory,” Jail muttered as he watched the man ride off.
“Bugger safe journeys. May his horse trip and roll on him. It would serve him right for riding something that damned big,” Neph snapped as he approached from the house as well. All mystery surrounding the departing man’s angry expression vanished from her mind at the sight of Neph. The surly Delvay had a habit of putting that expression on people’s faces.
“May I ask what that was about?” Jail inquired softly, his eyes locked on Neph.
“Bloody Fionaveir wanted Jala to return to the city with her people. He says it is by Lutheron’s orders. I was kind enough to point out that none of us here have tattoos that read I’m Lutheron’s bitch as he does. Then he demanded to speak to Jala and I said I’d send him straight to her. At that point Wisp started screeching something about not killing her brother,” Neph explained and waved a hand in dismissal.
“I thought you were supposed to have political training. Did the thought of diplomacy ever once cross your mind, Neph?” Jail asked in a tired voice.
“Nope, not once,” Neph replied as he drew a cigarette out of his coat pocket and glanced in Emily’s direction. “More therapy, eh?” he asked.
“How do you always know where I am?” Emily hissed in frustration. No one else ever seemed to have a clue as to where she was, but Neph did. It was infuriating to her and no doubt the largest reason she hated to be in the man’s presence.
“Well unless Jail has taken to walking with his arm at that jaunty little angle all of the time, it was a given that you are here. That and the fact that your grip on his arm tightened when I started speaking and he now has little indents from your claws in his arm,” Neph replied in his typical sarcastic voice and Emily felt a growl building in her chest.
“She is having issues with feeling like one of us, Neph. Please don’t make it more difficult for her,” Jail said with a sigh.
If the instincts hit me when Neph is around, I make no promises. Chances are, I’ll have him arranged into cutlets and steaks by the time you hit the door, Emily warned Jail through their link.
Chances are that I will move slower to save Neph than I did for Sovann, so you will likely have your first steak eaten by the time I arrive to stop you, Jail replied with a bit of amusement.
“So what
did you end up telling him to get him to leave?” Jail asked in an attempt to change the topic.
Neph glanced past them to the direction Victory had gone. “The truth. Jala didn’t say to be silent and I don’t see that they can do anything now. I told him Jala was in the Darklands on a quest and if he wanted to speak with her I’d be more than happy to send him to hell for the meeting.”
“No wonder he looked so out of sorts.” Jail sighed.
“Nah, I think he got that expression when I told him the Fionaveir have no rights to order Jala, regardless. If not for her, they wouldn’t have the bloody city. That, and if it were up to me, they would hand the city back to her upon her return,” Neph said as he raised the cigarette to his lips and took a long drag.
“The truth can be painful, especially when you are the one delivering it, Neph,” Jail said quietly.
“I support Jala. If she decides that she wants that city rather than letting the Fionaveir keep it, I will help her win it back,” Neph said bluntly and nodded his head to Jail as he turned to go. “At least I watched her fight for it. I wonder where their nominee for Empress was. I’m afraid I didn’t see her at the fight.”
Jail watched him go and let out a long sigh. “Many more are going to share that sentiment as this continues. I hope Lutheron and Caspian know what they are doing, for all of our sakes.”
“None of you know what you are doing,” Emily said with a chuckle. “You are worried about who is going to lead your world when this is all over. At this rate, it’s going to be the Blights that will be leading, because the rest of you will be dead for ignoring them in favor of your other enemies.”
“There is more truth to your words on that than I care to admit, Emily,” Jail agreed softly and then tugged on her arm. “Come on, let’s see what we can do about taming your wild side again. Perhaps if you have time I can teach you a few card games. Madren is nearly driving me mad with cards and it would be nice if he had someone else to play a game or two with. Without his library, I’m afraid he is as lost as you are without Marrow.”
“They are coming back, aren’t they, Jail?” Emily asked quietly and tried to ignore how much her voice sounded like Devony as she spoke the words. I’m not a scared little child anymore, she reminded herself sternly.
“I think right now we all qualify as scared children to a point Emily, and yes they will return. Keep faith in them,” Jail said with another gentle squeeze to her arm.
“Faith,” Emily echoed softly as she followed after him. Faith was one of the human concepts she had the most difficulty with. The entire concept was lost on her, but it seemed to mean a great deal to her companions. “I’ll try to,” she offered.
Chapter 3
Sanctuary
The metal panel opened with a loud crack and Shade staggered forward as the pressure he had been applying gave suddenly. Straightening slowly, he wiped sweat from his brow and surveyed his spell hawk with mixed feelings. On one hand it looked only slightly better than a wreckage heap at the present. On the other, it would keep him distracted from the ruin of the city for several more days while he repaired it.
Tossing his crowbar down beside the panel, he moved closer and examined the welds on the ship. The frame itself was still solid. It was simply a few panels and the view screen that would need to be scrapped and replaced. He leaned farther into the hole he had created in the side of the ship and examined the neighboring panels closely. Two more on this side and three on the other, he decided, and reached to pick up his crowbar once more and frowned. It wasn’t on the ground where he had dropped it.
Looking up, he found Charm sitting cross-legged on top of the ship with the crowbar balanced neatly on his lap. The rogue was dressed plainly today in a simple green tunic and brown breeches. The change of attire made him seem oddly normal. With the exception of his long blond braid and the delicate features of an Elder Blood, Charm could have passed as any of the workmen in the city in his current clothing.
“Planning to help with repairs?” Shade asked skeptically. If the rogue had any mechanical inclination he had seen no sign of it yet. “You appear to be dressed for it. I’m not used to seeing you in any color other than black.”
“Actually I came to get you. Lutheron would like to have a word with both of us, and its grey I prefer rather than black. Grey blends with the shadows easier,” Charm replied, tapping the crowbar lightly on his leg.
“Is he finally going to admit that there is a traitor in the Fionaveir?” Shade asked dryly. He had expected that something would be done, once the fighting in the city was over, an investigation at the very least. As far as he had seen, though, nothing had changed. If the Fionaveir elders even acknowledged that they had problems, they weren’t admitting it to anyone.
“I don’t think you truly understand the nature of leadership, Shade. You see, Lutheron is our superior in the Fionaveir, so when he says jump, we don’t question why we should jump. We simply jump, and hope it’s high enough to please him. So you see, I didn’t ask what he wanted to talk to us about. He said fetch you and I jumped,” Charm explained calmly, though there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“Ahh. I have no problem with jumping for him, Charm, as long as he can promise me that no one is going to put a bear trap under me while I’m hopping around,” Shade returned with equal sarcasm and a charming smile. “I understand leadership all too well, Charm. Myth taught me the lessons clearly. I’ve also learned that when your leaders are corrupt it’s simply best to walk away.”
“Are you going to walk away then, since you believe our leaders are corrupt?” Charm asked, tapping the crowbar once more as he stared down at Shade.
“Are you going to hit me with that if I say yes?” Shade asked, motioning toward the bar.
“I’m considering it regardless of your answer,” Charm returned with a smile.
“Ahh. Friendship is such a beautiful thing. To answer your question, no I’m not planning on walking from the Fionaveir yet. I’m going to give them time to see if they will sort out the problems. I know I’m low ranked and not privileged to certain information. So I’m going to give them the benefit of the doubt and believe they are working to find the traitor and I’m simply not high enough rank to know about it,” Shade said with a sigh and glanced back toward the Justicars hall where the Fionaveir had set up their headquarters. It was difficult to keep his eyes from straying to the charred buildings or the wagons that were loading the dead. Sanctuary had been his home for most of his life and seeing her in this state was painful. The clean-up had been in progress for days now and they were still finding dead under the rubble. So far, he hadn’t heard an actual body count but he knew it was high.
“C’mon Shade,” Charm said quietly. By his tone it was clear that he understood Shade’s feelings perfectly. He dropped the crowbar back to the ground and then jumped down from the ship.
Shade flicked his gaze from the crowbar to Charm and raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s the most noise I’ve ever heard you make, well aside from all of the bitching when we bombed Eldagar.”
Charm gave him a scathing look and moved past him with a shrug. “I don’t like it either, Shade. None of the Fionaveir do. Symphony will be sick when she sees the state of the city. I want you to remember that we aren’t the ones that caused the majority of this damage and we didn’t kill most of these people. Your friend did on her little rampage. Her spells were aimed at the Justicars, but the destruction she unleashed is what caused the buildings to collapse. Havoc started the fire in the Upper Market. Jala and Valor did most of the rest.”
“I haven’t seen Havoc since the fight. Did he not survive?” Shade murmured in a faint effort to change the topic. He didn’t like to consider that Jala had changed that much in the short time she had been with Finn. The Jala he had known and helped would have never created such a disaster.
“He is serving penance for the fire,” Charm said, his expression growing grim. He turned his gaze away from Shade, his mouth
firmly closed.
Shade nodded silently and followed the rogue. He wasn’t sure if Charm was upset with Havoc or upset with Havoc serving penance, but it obviously wasn’t a topic he wished to speak of. His steps slowed as he watched two Fionaveir pull a body free from a pile of timbers. The girl looked to be in her twenties, with long dark hair. One side of her head was caved in but the features were still recognizable and painfully familiar. “I knew her. She worked at the Millstone Café on Trader’s way. I had breakfast there every morning and she always knew just what to bring me without my asking.” He watched them move the body to join the others lining the road. “Her name was Elise. She was saving money for her apprenticeship with a tailor.”
Charm had stopped walking as well and was watching Shade with a look of sympathy. “No matter how hard you try, Shade, you can never save them all. Death demands her due and she is a greedy bitch. Remember her. That is the best you can do now. “
“I’ll be remembering quite a few, I suppose. I knew most of the people in the inner city,” Shade said softly as he continued toward the Hall.
“We all will be, Shade. Most of the half-blood Fionaveir are from Sanctuary. You are remembering acquaintances or perhaps a few actual friends. They are remembering family and childhood playmates. It isn’t just you that is finding this painful,” Charm scolded gently as he fell into step beside Shade once more.
Shade nodded in acknowledgment as he pulled open the door to the hall. A few people milled inside and from the expressions on their faces, something was wrong. He watched the furtive glances toward the double doors on the back way that led to the office Lutheron had chosen and then glanced back at Charm again in question.
“Is he busy?” Charm asked to the closest Fionaveir.
The woman blanched slightly and nodded. “Victory returned. There has been some yelling. I’m not sure what is going on, but Lutheron is not pleased at all,” she said softly as if she was afraid Lutheron could somehow overhear her words through the thick oak doors. Nervously, she brushed a stray lock of blond hair from her face and looked hopefully at Charm. “You have good news for him though? I really don’t want to make my report until he is in a better mood.”
The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes Page 5