The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes

by Melissa Myers

“This is sadistic,” Jala breathed, her eyes locked on Death.

  “Valor, would you truly let Sebastian die for Finn after all I have done for you? Would you leave my child an orphan to save an exile?” Chastity asked, her gaze fully on her brother now. She took a step closer, her eyes searching Valor for her answer.

  Valor inhaled deeply, his head bowed. Slowly he turned to face Jala, his dark blue eyes filled with pain. “I will honor my word and my promise to you,” he said quietly before turning back to face his sister. He exhaled slowly and stood straighter, squaring his shoulders before meeting Chastity’s accusing stare. “I would not let Sebastian die for Finn, Chas. I will, for Jala’s son, however. I’m sorry Chas, I truly am. If it were only my life at stake, my answer would be different.” He spoke quietly, his voice hoarse.

  Jala whirled to face Death who was leaning forward once more, her posture looking quite eager. “Name another champion please, or let me fight in Valor’s stead. I’ll face whoever you wish, just don’t force him to do this,” she pleaded.

  “Everything has a price, Jala. Do you think your knight is willing to pay this one?” Death chuckled. Her shrouded arm rose again and twin swords appeared hanging in midair between the Hai’dia. The blades themselves appeared to be made of glass and glinted wickedly in the flickering torchlight. “Those will be the weapons for the duel. Both equal, both deadly. Fight well Chastity. Your husband depends on it.”

  Valor gave a slight nod and dropped his helm to the floor. “A moment, before we begin Chas,” he said as he sheathed his sword and carefully removed his sword belt. Turning, he handed it to Jala and proceeded to remove the rest of his armor.

  “Valor, what are you doing?” Jala hissed as she watched piece after piece of the battered plate mail fall to the floor.

  “I will have a hard enough time with this on my conscience, Jala. I don’t want the added burden of believing I won because my sister was unarmored. I will do this with honor,” Valor explained quietly, his attention fully focused on the remaining buckles.

  “How noble. How ironic, too. I thought your brother was the one named Honor. From what I hear, that name wouldn’t suit you at all, Valor,” Hemlock chuckled.

  “I’ll not be judged by the likes of you,” Valor growled as his gaze briefly flicked to the Assassin.

  “I thought you had already been judged. Isn’t that why you were in Sanctuary?” Hemlock pressed.

  “Shut your dog up before I do,” Jala warned, her magic rising once more. She had no idea what Hemlock was referring to, but Valor was tormented enough without added pressure from the Assassin.

  “Such a temper,” Death chided. “I’m tempted to let you try, but later perhaps. I have entertainment for now.”

  The last bit of armor dropped to the floor beside her and she looked up to find Valor’s gaze on her once more. She stared back at him in silence, her heart hammering in her chest at the thought of what he must be thinking. Bowing his head deeply to her he turned and pulled one of the swords from the air. With a practice swing, he tested the weight and balance and nodded with slight approval as he watched his sister claim the blade’s twin.

  “You always did make the wrong choices, Valor. Should you win this fight, may Sebastian’s death be branded on your soul forever,” Chastity whispered as she twirled her own sword expertly in her hand.

  “Do you have your magic, Chas? If not, then I will not use my own,” Valor said, his expression and voice devoid of all emotion.

  “I do not,” Chastity replied formally.

  “Then strictly blades,” Valor decreed with a slight bow to his sister. “It will be branded there, Chas, I promise you that,” he added as lunged toward her, his sword moving in a graceful arc.

  Chastity dodged back, managing a clumsy parry. Shifting her feet, she regained her balance and caught the next blow evenly on her sword. Spinning to the left, she drove her blade toward Valor’s unarmored side. Chastity let out a faint gasp as Valor’s sword scored a long line across her shoulder, then drove hard with her own blade leaving a scarlet trail across Valor’s cheek. The knight didn’t flinch or even acknowledge the wound, his face still as emotionless as stone.

  Jala watched the two with held breath as the swords clashed time and time again. She had believed Valor would have the advantage, given all the practice he had against Finn, but Chastity was holding even with her younger brother. Jala moved back farther from the fight and wrapped her arms around herself. Her hand brushed against the spirit stone in the pocket of her grey cloak and she wrapped her fingers around it tightly. Her eyes still fixed on the battle raging she focused on the magics Ash had placed on the small gem stone. Only precious things work for spirit stones. Gems are the most common things used. This only works once however so whatever is used is destroyed when the spirit is pulled free of the stone. His words rang in her mind and she turned to look once more at Finn. He still hadn’t moved at all and the scales were tracing farther across his skin as Death’s transformation continued.

  Jala shifted where she stood and felt another heavier object in the cloak pocket brush her fingers. Her finger traced across the heavy gold coin outlining the twin swords that had represented Finn. Her gaze rose once more to the fight and she stared hard at Valor’s face as he tried his best to kill someone he had nearly died to save not so long ago. It wouldn’t be simply Sebastian’s death that he carried branded on his soul after this. How could he even look at his niece again with that kind of guilt on his conscience?

  Another gasp from Chastity made her decision for her. “To hell with honor, I don’t need it,” Jala hissed as she drew her power in a massive surge and unleashed it at the floor beneath Death’s throne. She knew better than to cast the opening spell against Death or her throne itself. There were simply too many wards to get through to do enough damage for a distraction. The air cracked like thunder as the stones exploded sending shards raining down over the throne room. A cloud of dust rose to envelope both Hemlock and Death making it impossible to see if either had been harmed.

  “Jala, what the hell?” Valor demanded behind her. The ringing of swords had ceased and she could feel the eyes of both Hai’dia on her back. She had no time for them however. Pulling the spirit stone from her pocket she focused on Finn and activated its magic as the black robed figure of Death emerged from the cloud of dust.

  “You treacherous bitch!” Death screeched as the air around her crackled with power. “Kill them!” she bellowed, her voice shaking the stones of the hall. The drifting spirits swarmed at her command as demons began to pour through the doors.

  “So, perhaps you should fight together rather than against each other. Demons would be good targets,” Jala suggested calmly to the stunned duelists behind her. Pulling on her power once more she hastily raised shields around herself and sent a force bolt toward Death. She meant it as more of a delay than an actual attack and was unsurprised when the Divine brushed it off as if swatting a fly.

  “If that is the best you have, you are already dead, child,” Death hissed as she began to advance, her hands moving in intricate patterns as she began her own spell.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you, Hemlock. This is their dance.” Vaze’s voice rang clearly from above and Jala glanced up just long enough to spot the Fionaveir balanced above the door, tendrils of shadow held at the ready.

  “You heard the lady earlier, I’m sure. I’m no warrior. I have no intention of fighting,” Hemlock replied, sounding surprisingly amused, though she couldn’t tell exactly where the Assassin was.

  Jala’s shields rocked as Death’s spell slammed into her. The Divine was within five feet now and closing the distance quickly. Activating the focus stones in her hands once more, Jala sent a wave of wind out from her in all directions pushing the spirits back. She needed room and there wasn’t much to be had here. Bile rose in her throat as the traces of Death’s spell washed over her. There was no longer any threat to the magic but the foulness of it sickened her. Neph had shown her necrom
ancy once and it had made her skin crawl, despite the minor spell he had used. Death’s spell had certainly not been minor and had no doubt been intended to be quite lethal.

  Shadow tendrils rose from the walls to either side of her wrapping two demons tightly in their grasp. The tendrils snapped like a whip and she heard the sounds of shattering bones behind her as the demons were crushed against the stone walls. “C’mon kid, I’m waiting to be impressed,” Vaze called from above.

  Jala gave a slight nod and narrowed her focus. Her magic roared in her ears as she launched spell after spell at the Divine, sending Death reeling back from her. She kept the pattern chaotic giving Death no opportunity to guess what would come at her next. Moving forward, Jala continued the assault, her magic gaining momentum until there was no break between blasts. The noise of the swords and fighting behind her faded as she centered her whole mind upon Death and let vent all of her frustrations and anger.

  Death staggered back once more, her robe shredding on her frail form but the leathery skin beneath seemed untouched by the magic. Snarling like an animal, the Divine surged forward through the magic and slammed into Jala, knocking the breath from her in a ragged gasp. Clawed fingers dug into her neck, lifting her from her feet. Jala sucked air frantically and tried to keep the rising panic from spoiling her next spell.

  “Did you truly believe you had a chance?” Death asked in a furious snarl.

  Jala remained silent as she released a blast of pure magic directly into Death’s chest. Her spell had been spoiled and it was the best she could manage in her desperation. The Divine rocked slightly from the impact and tightened her hold on Jala’s throat. Pain flared through Jala in bright lances as Death’s other hand tore into her stomach through the armor. Panic washed over her once more as Jala realized the Divine’s intent. The bitch meant to tear the child from her body.

  Summoning all her remaining energy, Jala brought her hand down hard covering Death’s shrouded face and sent the last spell she knew she could manage through the focus stones and into the Divine. Bright white light filled the room as the spell exploded against Death. The Divine dropped her to the floor and staggered back, both hands clutching her head.

  Jala sucked in air in violent gulps and stared down at her ruined hand in growing shock. The focus stones had exploded and what remained of her right hand looked more like raw meat than her flesh. Letting out ragged breaths, Jala twisted the tattered folds of her old grey cloak around her hand and staggered to her feet. Her mind reeled with the agony of her wounds, but she forced herself to scan the room.

  Demons swarmed the two Hai’dia who fought back to back, their glass swords flashing with incredible speed as they forced Death’s minions back from them. She could see Valor trying to glance back toward her, his expression frantic. The explosion of the spell must have left him thinking her dead. She wanted to reassure him but when she tried to speak nothing but a sob came from her mouth.

  The throbbing in her hand and side increased and she staggered to lean heavily against the wall. Her eyes searched the room frantically for Vaze and spotted the Fionaveir fighting several demons that looked quite intent on getting through the door he blocked.

  Her good hand fumbled in the pocket of her cloak until she found the spirit stone. Pressing her fingers tight around it she focused and let out another sob as she felt Finn’s spirit stir within. Gasping, she looked around the room once more, her eyes lingering on Death. The Divine had staggered back against the far wall and was hunched over like an animal, her hands clutching her ruined face. Jala took several sharp breaths and searched inside herself. She had just enough magic for another spell. With trembling fingers, Jala released the spirit stone back into her pocket and cast her last spell. They would have to depend on Vaze to get them out of here. She was in no condition to cast a spell as complicated as a gate spell right now anyway.

  “Valor, I need you,” she gasped as the magic released. Darkness swam across her vision and she felt herself sliding down the wall, her knees turning to jelly beneath her. Strong arms pulled her back to her feet. Jala had no idea if he had truly broken from the fighting that quickly or if she had fainted. Her mind refused to focus on anything but her body’s complaints. “Vaze get us out,” Jala gasped, praying the Fionaveir could hear her.

  “Jala,” Valor spoke frantically. His voice wavered in her ears and his face blurred before her eyes. “Jala, can you hear me?” he asked the words sounding distant.

  Jala nodded her head forward as the shadows around them thickened. The sounds of the throne room faded as the world faded to pure blackness and then bright white light as the forests of Goswin rose abruptly around her.

  “Does she live?” a woman’s voice asked distantly. Anthe, a small voice in the back of Jala’s mind informed her.

  “She lives and it’s no thanks to you. What were you thinking, sending her into the Darklands?” Vaze demanded, his voice sounding furious.

  “I was thinking if I don’t help her she will attempt it herself and likely die in the process. I dropped her at the fringe of the Darklands, Vaze. I gave her plenty of time to reconsider her choice.” The woman spoke again her voice low and calm.

  It’s Anthe speaking, the voice informed her once more, louder. Marrow brushed roughly against her leg and she looked down to meet his yellow eyes. Did you suffer a head wound or something? he demanded, his voice rising in her mind.

  Every other wound but that, I think, Jala replied, the effort of forming the words seeming nearly impossible. “Finn, need go Merro,” she gasped, her words sounding thick and clumsy even to her ears.

  “Jala, you are in no condition to raise him now,” Valor replied sternly, then turned to scan the grove jostling her in his arms as he did. Jala fought back another wave of nausea and pain, inhaling deeply. “Where is Chastity? Did you leave her there, Vaze?” Valor demanded his voice rising.

  “I would have brought her had I seen any sign of her. She was gone, Valor. I looked,” Vaze replied, his voice defensive.

  “Ash’s magic. Finn, I need Finn,” Jala gasped again, hoping they would hear her. Each word was a chore and she hated him for forcing her to speak so loudly. “Death is just weakened. Needs done before she has strength again,” she managed and clutched her throbbing hand closer to her chest. The wound in her stomach burned like fire, but she didn’t allow herself to look down at it. That would draw attention to how severe her wounds were. Freeing herself from Valor, she stood wavering beside him and drew the hood of her borrowed cloak over her head. She could feel the blood running down her collar bone from the claw marks on her neck, but she only needed a little longer. Just enough time to see Finn raised and then she would submit to any healer they found.

  “You need a healer, Jala,” Valor said gently as if she needed the obvious pointed out to her. Carefully, he took her arm once more and tried to steady her on her feet. White fire lanced through her as his arm brushed the stomach wound and she had to clench her teeth to keep from gasping.

  “Finn first,” Jala insisted stubbornly. Her last magic hadn’t been directed at Death. She had cast the spell for a different purpose and she knew she had limited time before Death was at full strength again. Pushing feebly away from Valor, she glared at Vaze. They were running out of time to act. Time traveled so much faster in the Darklands that Death could already be recovered. “I don’t have much magic left but I will take myself if you won’t help me,” she mumbled, her words barely audible.

  “Calm yourself, I never said I wouldn’t take you. I simply had the audacity to try to speak reason to you,” Vaze sighed and the shadows rose around them once more. “We will have words about this later, Anthe,” he promised as Goswin faded to shadows.

  Chapter 9

  Merro

  Jala staggered forward as the shadows released them once more. Her vision wavered and the world seemed to tilt drastically below her feet.

  “Damn it, Jala, unwrap the cloak let me see how badly you are hurt,” Valor demanded
softly as he grabbed her arm once more and steadied her.

  Judging by the amount of blood I smell on you and the way your thoughts are processing, I’d say there are pigs hanging at the butcher’s shop that are in better shape, Marrow observed in a level tone as he sat down in the street in front of her, his yellow eyes holding a note of disapproval in them.

  Jala ignored them both, her gaze sweeping across the town instead. When they left, Merro had been little more than a scattering of half-built houses. Now there were buildings everywhere. Footsteps sounded beside her and she glanced over to see Vaze staring down at her with narrowed eyes.

  “What if we raise Finn and you are so injured that you die shortly thereafter? Do you suppose he will go on a quest to rescue you? Perhaps the two of you can take turns at this for the next year or so,” Vaze said his tone thick with sarcasm.

  “I doubt that would happen,” Valor muttered and let out a long sigh.

  “It won’t happen. I’m not going to die,” Jala replied as fiercely as she could, which, judging by the expressions her three comrades gave her, was not fierce at all. “Just help me find Ash, please,” she mumbled. Another pain ripped through her stomach and she bowed her head to hide the expression of agony. She’d seen a late-term miscarriage once in the Bliss temple and the woman’s screams had been terrible.

  That is a horrible thing to remember at the present. Is that the agony you expect to come? Marrow asked as he stood once more and pressed his broad head hard against her leg.

  “Find Ash, please Marrow. Can you detect his scent anywhere?” Jala pleaded, her hand clutching at the thick fur around his neck.

  The Bendazzi turned his head slightly and lifted his nose to the air. His ears swiveled as he surveyed the town and then shook his massive head. I don’t smell him but that means nothing. I’m a cat, not a hunting hound. There are too many scents here for me to pick a single one out easily. There are horses approaching however.