The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams (54 page)

Thank you Emily. I feel better knowing you
are here. You will have to explain your problems to me later. Once
we have Finn back, that is. I didn’t know there was anything
wrong
, Jala replied as Madren and Jail rode to her side.

“It will take time to remove the wards from
the gate,” Neph warned as he raised his hands to begin casting.

“We don’t have time Neph,” Jala snapped, her
attention turning fully to the mage. She had kept constant vigil on
her link with Finn and the frustration and anger she was feeling
from him was setting her nerves on edge.

“It doesn’t matter if we have it or not,
Jala, it will take time to do,” Neph snapped back, a spark of his
earlier anger showing again.

Frowning at his back, Jala eyed the gate and
then shook her head defiantly. It might take time to do this
neatly, but she didn’t have time for neatness. Summoning her power
she leaned back in the saddle. With a deep breath she activated the
stones in her palms that Sovann had given her as a wedding gift.
She had never actually used them before. It was a secret she had
been saving for when she needed extra strength. Right now, she
needed the extra strength. Faint light began to emanate from the
stones, showing through her skin in subdued colors. With a snarl
she unleashed the summoned power in a wave of raw magic. The stone
of the gate cracked and grated violently as her magic washed over
it like a storm fueled tide. Pulling on her reserves again she
summoned a force bolt and used the activated stones to amplify the
spell.

“Jala, what the hell are you doing?” Neph
demanded loudly.

She ignored him completely as she cast the
bolt toward the gate. Fragments of stone and dust exploded outward
as the wards surrendered to her assault. Kicking her mare in the
sides she rode into the dust cloud, trusting that the others would
follow.

The streets beyond her district were a war
zone. Everywhere she looked there was fighting. In the distance she
could see flames rising from the market district. Yells sounded at
her appearance, but she didn’t spare a glance to see who it was.
The fighting grew thicker as she drew closer to the Halls of
Justice and still there was no sign of Finn. Through the bond she
could feel his frustration and anger and prayed to Fortune that it
was from being delayed.

“Jala, we can’t get the horses through that,”
Valor said as they turned down another street to find the way
blocked by the thickest fighting yet.

Jala snarled in frustration as she scanned
the streets frantically for another way. Even Marrow wouldn’t be
able to get this crowd to clear. The bloodlust was up too high for
them to see the Bendazzi as anything other than something else to
kill. From the press of things she couldn’t even tell who was
fighting. The Justicars were easy enough to locate with their stark
white cloaks but the rest looked no more than a common mob.

“Send the horses with Jail. We will take the
alleys and try to avoid most of this,” Neph said after a long
moment and Valor nodded his silent agreement.

She had to fight back the urge to argue. They
were right and she knew it. She dismounted and handed the reins up
to Jail.

“Good luck,” he whispered to her.

“We will meet you near the arena, I doubt
there is much fighting there,” Neph told the Mind mage as he handed
his reins over as well.

“Don’t worry about this one. She will just
cause you trouble. If she follows you, good. If not I’ll buy Finn
another horse,” Valor said as he turned the grey mare loose and
headed for the nearest alley.

Jala watched the mare bolt and gave Jail once
last look. “Good luck to you, too,” she said quietly and turned to
follow Valor.

The alleys were filled with trash and bodies
but blessedly free of fighting. She stayed close behind Valor, her
urgency pressing him to keep a quick pace. Finn’s frustration was
bleeding through into her own mind and she found herself snarling
and grumbling at every snag or delay.

“We are almost there,” Valor assured her as
she let out another curse behind him.

“I know and I’m sorry. It’s his frustration
as well as mine that you are hearing. I think the fighting must
have him trapped in the Halls,” she replied trying to keep her
voice from sounding snappish. That, in itself, was growing more and
more difficult. A low pain was beginning to fill her head and she
wondered if it was from the earlier casting against the gates. She
had never released so much raw power at once before, though she
didn’t feel drained at all. Now was not the time to mention it,
however. Neph would want to check her over and she didn’t want to
delay any further.

Valor led them around the last corner,
sticking close to the side of the building. The square surrounding
the hall was as thick as any battlefield. These fighters were not a
common mob though. She could see the tattoos clearly on the men and
women that were locked in deadly combat with the Justicars
here.

The fighting hadn’t reached the Hall itself
yet, and two solid rows of Justicars stood guard there as well as
Devron Rivana and a good portion of what was left of his guard.

“There is no way. There are too many of
them,” Neph warned, trying to pull her back into the alley.

Valor, however, was frozen in place, his eyes
locked firmly on two Justicars standing near the doors. She
recognized them at once as the men that had been holding Chastity
on the dais. Valor drew in a long breath and uttered something
quietly. His armor shifted slightly taking on a glimmer that had
nothing to do with the fading sunlight. He held his hand out to the
side and a helm appeared in it. Glancing back at her he motioned
for her to follow Neph. “He is right, the odds are bad here,” he
said quietly, before pulling the helm on and buckling it in
place.

“Valor you can’t possibly be considering
fighting. That is suicide,” Neph hissed.

“Keep her safe, Neph,” Valor replied, his
voice sounding hollow through the helm. She had never actually seen
him wear a helm before and it seemed somehow to add more menace to
him.

A wave of shock passed through her bond with
Finn, followed by pain, and the dull throbbing in her head shifted
to blinding white pain. She felt something break in her mind and
grabbed her head with a hand, leaning back against Neph as memories
came pouring into her mind.

Her fist pounded down into the boy’s face
drawing more blood. His left eye was swollen shut and he was crying
but she wouldn’t stop. He had teased her too many times about being
an orphan brat. This time he had gone too far, though. He had
called her a whore’s whelp. She smashed her hand down into his face
again. Her breath was coming ragged as she shifted her weight to
keep him pinned in the dirt beneath her. Hands pulled her from
behind, trying to get her off the bully, but she clung to him, her
anger pushing everything else to the side. …

The room around her was utterly destroyed.
Pieces of furniture lay in smoldering ruin surrounding her.
Gretchen cringed back by the wall, staring at her in mute horror.
Jala glared defiantly at the woman, daring her to say another word.
The surly housekeeper had accused her of stealing from the
kitchens. Then she had the stupidity to suggest it was in her blood
to steal. No one insulted the memory of her family. The anger
burned in her chest like a living thing.

Father Belson was sitting before her with
three strangers standing in the room behind him. “Jala, your temper
is going to be your ruin, child. It isn’t right to hold such anger.
This man is going to help you.” The elderly priest motioned toward
a tall slender man with dark red hair. He wore the tattoos of the
Fionaveir on his arm and had a kind look in his green eyes. He
approached slowly and knelt beside her with a gentle smile. The
scent of mint washed off him and she felt herself relax a bit.

“
She nearly killed the baker’s girl this
morning. I don’t even know what the fight was about, but it is
getting worse. Something has to be done, Milord, she is constantly
fighting. It’s as if the child doesn’t know how to walk away from
anything. Either she is going to get herself killed or she is going
to kill someone,” Father Belson said in a hushed voice to one of
the other men. This one had dark hair and sharp features and the
look in his black eyes seemed anything but friendly. His entire
presence unsettled her but she set her jaw and refused to let it
show. The man simply nodded at the priest’s words but never took
his eyes from Jala. She clenched her jaw and returned the gaze,
showing him that he didn’t scare her any more than the baker’s
daughter had.

The last man moved forward toward her. He had
grey hair the color of good steel and swords strapped on his back
as well as his hips. He dropped to a crouch beside his red haired
companion and studied her with eyes that had seemed black from
across the room. Now as the firelight hit them she could see the
purple in them. She stared into his eyes, the other man completely
forgotten. This man before her was the first she had ever seen with
eyes almost like hers. He wore shiny black armor that seemed to
cover his body in one solid piece. No seams showed as he bent his
legs. It was as if the metal were as supple as leather. Without
speaking a word, he took her hand and held it up, looking at the
scraped and bruised knuckles. With his other hand he tilted her
chin up to get a better look at her black eye. He smiled then, a
faint thing that was barely visible. “Such a fierce little thing,”
he said quietly in a voice that seemed almost familiar. “You did
right, Jala. Never let them tell you what you are. Only you can
determine what you are and will be.” His voice was so soft she had
to lean forward to hear him.

“
Don’t encourage her Vaze,” the dark man
by Father Belson snapped. “Remedy, fix her mind. This does her no
good here. Repress the anger and block her magic.”

“
Lutheron, she is holding so much anger,
if I simply lock it away she will notice. The void it will leave
will be immense,” Remedy objected.

“
Fill the void then with things that will
better serve her. Give her caution and fear. Give her the basics of
being a lady. She is twelve and still refuses to wear dresses. Fix
so she will blend in here better and have a chance at surviving,”
the dark man answered.

“
I don’t need fixed. I’m not broken!” Jala
screamed, her anger flaring once more. The idea of walking away or
being afraid of the bullies sickened her. She didn’t want to blend
in with these people. She didn’t even want to be near these people.
She wanted to go home.

“
You are asking me to change her entire
personality, Lutheron. I have to object,” Remedy said as he stood
and faced the dark haired man.

“
You are not broken. You are nearly
perfect. Now is not the time to show that, though. When the time
comes you will know, because I will be fighting right there beside
you,” Vaze said as the two men behind him argued. “You will get a
chance to punish those that deserve it. Don’t look at it as losing
your anger, look at it as saving it up.”

“
You will do it because I command you to
do it!” Lutheron bellowed and Remedy backed up a step.

With a grudging nod he turned back to face
Jala with remorse clearly written on his face. “I’m sorry child.
You have my promise that the moment he gives me word to lift this
from you I will. I promise I will only lock it away. I will not
destroy anything that is you.” He knelt before her again as he
spoke and placed a gentle hand on the side of her head.

She locked a defiant gaze on him and
smiled bitterly. “Even Oblivion couldn’t destroy what I am. I doubt
you are capable either,” she said quietly as the room around her
began to fade to darkness. With an iron will she focused on the
smell of mint and braced herself against his magic
.

Finally you are whole
! Marrow’s voice
pulled her back from the memories. He sounded ecstatic and she
could feel his joy washing over her.
I felt it weakening and
knew you were close.

I’m sorry it took me so long. Now we can
face them with the courage I should have had
,” she replied to
him her mind still reeling.

“Jala!” Neph said, his voice frantic he shook
her lightly.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice a bit shaky.
She pushed back from him and the world snapped back into focus.
Valor was just now turning back to face her. It couldn’t have been
long, and yet it had seemed like forever to her. “How long was I
like that?” she gasped to Neph. Her emotions coiled inside her, the
fear and insecurity melting away under the black cloud she knew so
well and hadn’t even remembered was missing. It swelled inside her
and she felt her teeth clench in response. Vaze had been right, it
wasn’t gone, it had been building.

“Not long at all. Jala, are you OK?” Neph
said, his expression growing concerned.

“Why are her eyes glowing?” Madren asked
quietly. He still stood in the alley and the confidence he had
shown earlier was fading quickly before her eyes.

“Oh Lutheron, you have no idea what you have
unleashed,” she whispered quietly as she turned back to Valor.
“Follow in my wake, do not get in front of me,” she warned and
squared her shoulders. The anger and frustration built up over
years fueled her mind as she selected her first target on the
stairs. The hesitation that had plagued her in every fight since
she had come to Sanctuary evaporated as her mind prepared for the
fight.

“Jala, no. We must retreat or wait for the
Fionaveir to reach the stairs. There are too many,” Neph
protested.

The stones in her hands began to glow again
as she drew from her reservoir. She could still feel the link with
Finn. It was clouded with pain and shock but he still lived. She
had time to reach him and heal him. All she had to do was kill
everyone that stood in her way. A month ago that thought would have
sickened her, now she felt a smile forming on her lips. Pulling her
hand back she hurled a Windblade toward the first rank of
Justicars. Blood sprayed as the spell tore through the men taking
several down in its wake. Typically a Windblade was a single target
spell. She had decided against limiting herself however.