The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams (35 page)

He nodded in answer and shrugged. “I knew
about it before Hemlock left the Hall that morning. It’s part of
the reason I couldn’t’ sleep. I don’t have to warn you of what he
could use the blood for. I’m sure Sovann already has.”

“How did you know? Time was stopped, or he
said it was anyway. I don’t understand …” Her voice trailed off and
she stared at Finn.

“We are going to be late for class,” he
replied with a smile and looped an arm around her waist guiding her
once again toward the Academy.

“Finn, how did you know?” she demanded again,
her steps slowing once more.

“Don’t you think you have been truant enough
this year Jala?” Finn asked, his tone mockingly parental.

“Finn!” she exclaimed in frustration and
elbowed him lightly in the side.

Chuckling he grinned down at her, amusement
written clearly on his tanned face. Running his fingers through his
tawny hair he tilted his chin a bit and sighed. “I’m just that damn
talented,” he said, exhaling as he spoke and then chuckled again.
She elbowed him harder in response. “All right calm down,” he said
through laughter and grinned at her boyishly. “I have contacts that
keep tabs on certain individuals. Hemlock happens to be one of
them,” he said with a shrug.

“I thought he was the sneakiest man in
Sanctuary. How does a contact of yours keep tabs on him?” she
asked.

“Because my contact is a Nightblade,” Finn
answered smoothly with a shrug.

An odd flutter passed through her from the
link and it took her a moment to recognize what it was. Pausing in
her steps again, she looked up at Finn in astonishment. “You just
lied to me,” she said quietly.

“Hmm. You have gotten better with your link.”
He considered her briefly and nodded. “OK, the truth then,” he
sighed and pulled her back into motion once more. “Hemlock bragged
to me over it. I know him a bit better than I let anyone know. I
worked for him for a time but it’s not something I’m proud of. My
father is an Assassin as I’ve already told you, so naturally I
picked up a few tricks. When I first came to the city and realized
how much tuition at the Academy was, I knew I wouldn’t earn it in
the Pits or dueling at low levels,” he explained and shrugged.

“I thought no one ever left the Nightblades.
I thought it was a lifelong commitment,” she said quietly,
wondering if he had another secret to reveal. He was gone in the
early morning hours though she had always thought he was training
during that time.

“Typically, it is. There were special
circumstances and they are part of the reason Hemlock hates me so
much. I have no doubt whatsoever that had you not traded the blood
he would have already moved on me. Cassia offered him money, of
course, but Kithvaryn has made offers as well and I doubt it was in
coin. The temptation had to have been strong for Hemmy,” Finn said
giving her a smile.

“Hemmy? How well do you know him, Finn?” she
asked, her voice low. They were nearing the stairs to the Academy
now and she found herself tempted to stop once again. This was an
answer she badly wanted from him.

“Too well. He considered me his protégé for a
time. I think he came as close to trusting me as he ever has
anyone.” Finn slowed his pace beside her and glanced over at her.
“I’ll explain before you ask,” he sighed, and kept his gaze on the
looming doors of the hall as they climbed the stairs slowly. “A
contract came in on Valor. I accepted it before anyone else could.
Hemmy never questioned whether I would kill a friend. He naturally
assumed I would. He was right. I did hit a friend, just not Valor.
I backstabbed Hemmy with a concoction I had made and forced him
into a deal. So Valor lived, I got out of the Nightblades, and
Hemmy hates me. That’s the short version of it, of course, but I’m
afraid it’s all I have time for at the moment.” A frown crossed
over his face as his hand touched the door to the hall. “No one
else knows about that, Jala, not even Sovann. Honestly, I don’t
think Valor would talk to me if he knew I had worked for the
Nightblades. I’ve heard myself described in quite a few ways by
many people. Never once has the word virtuous been used. Valor is
virtuous in his own fashion though, and he couldn’t abide learning
about this.” Regret and sadness brushed her through the link and he
turned back to the door pushing it open silently.

She nodded slowly as she digested the story
and glanced around the hall as they entered. Marrow and Emily had
been strangely silent the entire walk and she honestly wasn’t sure
the Blight child was even still with them. This area however would
be safe enough with just Marrow. “You are already late for your own
class, Finn. You should probably let me go on alone from here,” she
said quietly.

He sighed dramatically and placed a hand over
his heart. “I divulge my secrets and she casts me off,” he said in
a mournful voice, then winked at her, flashing his charming smile,
though she could tell the teasing was forced. The emotions running
through the bond between them were still in too much turmoil. “I
told you I switched things up a bit so we could spend more time
together. As it turns out we are both wretchedly late for basic
geography, though with that particular instructor if we are quiet
when we go in I don’t think he will notice.”

“You switched your schedule?” she asked in
shock. “But what about your own classes?”

He shrugged and smiled at her. “I live by the
blade, Jala. I likely have more of an education than any other
duelist in the city. Given the choice, I’d rather spend time with
you and refresh the basic classes than advance further with
knowledge that I will likely never have a use for,” he
explained.

She nodded slowly and pushed the doors to the
lecture hall open silently. The droning voice of the instructor
echoed out into the hall and she glanced at Finn one last time
before entering the room. “You are likely going to be very pissed
off later today, then,” she whispered.

“Why?” he asked in confusion.

“Because I’ve arranged to have lunch with
Madren today to discuss what he has learned about the Goswin
curse,” she informed him in the same hushed voice and quickly
entered the class before he could voice objections.

Delvay

“I don’t even know why I’m riding through all
this gods-be-damned snow to stop this war from starting. I would
absolutely love it if the Delvay wiped Rivana off the map,” Havoc
grumbled over his shoulder. His horse struggled beneath him as he
spoke, trying to find purchase on the steep, snow-packed path.
Without seeming to consider it, Havoc adjusted his seat and leaned
forward more in the saddle to ease the burden for his mount.

“Because Symphony asked us to and Caspian
ordered it,” Victory reminded him with a deep sigh. A fresh cloud
of steam rose around Havoc’s blood-red stallion as he pushed
through another deep snow bank. It wasn’t often that Havoc rode his
Flame Steed on missions, but he had chosen it without hesitation
for this particular trip. Not only was the beast doing an excellent
job at clearing the trail, it would stand fearlessly before the
Delvayon snow cats when most horses would bolt.

I’m not sure which is more agitated our
fiery friend or the sentinels watching us approach
. Avalanche’s
voice came as a warm breath in Victory’s mind. His Familiar seldom
spoke anymore, and hearing the voice brought a smile to his face.
Speech wasn’t truly needed between them, of course. They had been
bonded for so long that Avalanche didn’t truly need to speak for
Victory to understand him. Yet, at times like these, hearing
Avalanche’s calm rational voice was like a beautiful work of music
compared to Havoc’s ranting.

I can’t say which is more irritated but
I’ll lay money on Havoc
, Victory replied.

Gambling with a horse is a new low on
vices
, Avalanche replied in amusement, his ears twitching at
the thought and Victory chuckled despite his effort to remain
silent.

“You find something amusing about this?”
Havoc demanded, half turning in his saddle. Waving a hand violently
the Firym cleared the fog surrounding him enough to get a clear
look at Victory. “I’m serious, Victory. The Rivasans are a bloody
abomination. They should be wiped out. They call themselves masters
of flames. They corrupt flames, Victory. They wouldn’t know true
fire if I set them on bloody fire. I would cheer the Delvay on
gladly if they would eliminate Hellfire from this world.”

“Bloodless revolution, Havoc,” Victory
reminded him, gently wishing fervently that he hadn’t chuckled
aloud. He knew how sincere Havoc’s words were and provoking him
further was the last thing he wanted to do.

“That’s never going to happen and you and I
both know it, Vic,” Havoc grumbled, turning back heavily in his
saddle. His horse snorted in protest and shook its head, steam
blowing from its nostrils. Victory watched the animal silently as
the diameter of melted snow widened around it and the fog bank grew
once more. The description of hot-tempered suited the Firym and
their mounts quite well he decided.

Sighing, he glanced ahead at their progress
up the mountain. Halfway, if he estimated it correctly. The three
peaks were certainly closer but the climb was anything but easy for
the horses, so it would go slow. There was a reason the Delvay
chose to use snow cats. This climb was impossible for a typical
horse. Fortunately neither of these horses was typical. Still, he
had little enough time for Havoc to calm down before they arrived.
If he, in fact, should calm him down. Really he wasn’t sure. There
was no doubt they would be challenged at the gate and the Delvay
believed in survival of the fittest. If he let Havoc tear into the
sentries in a full blown rage it might get them in to see Lord
Delvayon sooner. Of course, he wasn’t certain he could stop Havoc
at simply incapacitating the sentries, and Lord Delvayon would
likely frown on dead men at his gate.

“You know Morcaillo will never surrender. It
will be war, and half of our lords are tied up with the Blights
now. Lutheron says the Blights are in Faydwer now and he expects
them to infest the Scarlet Jungle next. Have you noticed how they
only seem to be affecting our side of things?” Havoc grumbled.

“It may not be bloodless, Havoc, but let’s
not have it be said it was because we didn’t try everything we
could to make it so,” Victory replied calmly.

“What if we talk Delvay down and the Rivasans
attack them anyway?” Havoc demanded.

“We have someone speaking with the Rivasans,
as well,” Victory reminded him with a sigh.

“Like the bloody Rivasans will keep their
word. They will wait till Delvay is unprepared and attack,” Havoc
spat back, his tone disgusted. “Fuck the Rivasans. I say we help
Delvay burn them out,” he added with far too much enthusiasm.

“Havoc,” Victory warned patiently, and the
Firym lowered his voice and continued to mutter to himself.

“Are you really letting a pixie talk you out
of a good fight Jani? Did you lose your balls when you got your
tattoos?” A mocking feminine voice called from above them.

Looking up sharply, Victory searched the
area, his eyes finally coming to rest on a slender blond woman
perched comfortably in a tree limb not fifteen feet from where they
rode. She wore hunting leathers that were faded and patched with a
pair of wickedly long daggers strapped to her belt. Her gaze was
locked on Havoc and the Firym’s back had noticeably stiffened.
“Jani?” Victory asked in confusion, turning his gaze toward Havoc
as well.

“Please don’t tell me you are one of their
sentinels? Did they run out of scouts that were actually worth
paying?” Havoc asked, as his gaze slowly turned to regard the
woman, his expression incredulous.

“You didn’t know I was here,” she countered
with a smirk.

“I did. I just didn’t think you were worth
acknowledging,” Havoc replied and pointed a hand back behind them.
“Your cat is back down the trail on the right hidden in the brace
of pines near the cliff wall,” he added smugly.

The woman’s expression faltered slightly,
losing its confidence as she glanced back down the trail and then
back to him. With a sigh, she dropped from the tree and approached
his horse shaking her head. “How did you know where he was? I
approached from the opposite direction. There were no tracks.” Her
tone seemed friendly now as she stopped by the Flame Steed and
rested a hand on Havoc’s saddle.

“Razor smelled him and started snorting when
we passed,” Havoc explained and smiled at her.

“You two know each other?” Victory asked,
knowing the question was obviously a stupid one but unsure how else
to prod them into remembering his presence.

“Jani and I go back. You, I know as well. The
pixie that is talented with a lance,” she said with a smirk and
glanced back at Havoc. “Let me get my cat and I’ll escort you to
the Sisters,” she said and disappeared back into the pines.

“Sisters?” Victory asked, feeling more lost
in the conversation by the moment.

“It’s what they call the peaks. The Three
Sisters,” Havoc explained as he edged his horse into motion
again.

“Aren’t we going to wait on her?” Victory
asked, glancing back behind them for any sign of the woman.

“Kes? No she can catch up,” Havoc chuckled,
shaking his head as if the very thought of waiting was a joke.

“So Jani?” Victory pressed once more.

“Don’t make me kill you Vic, she can call me
that, you can’t,” Havoc snapped, adjusting his seat in the saddle
once more as Razor plowed through another snow bank.

“Why can she call you that?” Victory asked,
wondering how far he could push the Firym.

“Because Jani and I were betrothed once upon
a time,” Kes called from behind him. Victory turned to regard her
in disbelief as she approached. Her Snow cat bounded easily across
the rough terrain and she slowed it beside him. “That expression on
your face is beautiful,” she snickered and looked ahead. “Did you
never tell him you were betrothed Jani?” she called ahead, her
voice filled with amusement.