From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)(104)

“She is a prisoner, Lord Hexian. Her Arovan knight killed one of our scouts. I can’t just let her go,” Keller objected, though his voice was wavering.

Hexian’s eyes narrowed and he looked past her to stare directly at her captor. “Are you suggesting that I am not capable of preventing the escape of a half-drowned girl and her two wounded companions?” His voice was low and dangerous as if daring the man to offend him further.

“We don’t take our orders from you, Hex, and I still have a few things I’d like to ask the half-drowned girl.” It was a woman’s voice this time, and from the back of the room. The crowd parted as the woman crossed the room toward them. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and the expression on her pale face was murderous.

“Who is she?” Jala whispered to Hexian as she watched the woman approach. It was obvious from her armor that she wasn’t simply a common mercenary. The quality of work on her breastplate rivaled the detail on Valor’s.

“Commander Kithkara, I’m surprised such a trivial prisoner has attracted your esteemed interest,” Hexian said as he half turned to face the woman.

“Trivial? Half of the High Lords are screaming for her blood. I scarcely think she is trivial,” Kithkara returned dryly, her eyes moving past Hexian to fix solidly on Jala’s face. “Where is Finn Sovaesh?” she snarled her eyes narrowing.

“Dead and trapped in the Darklands. I failed to raise him,” Jala answered bluntly, the truth of her words tightening her throat painfully.

“Look at her expression Kara. You cannot fake that suffering. She speaks the truth to you. I attended the services in Avanti myself. It was a small affair that was kept quiet for the most part, but I felt obliged to show my respect for the month of peace he gave me from my nephew,” Hexian said with a sigh.

“I never trust words given so freely. I’ve found that the truth is only revealed by the blade of a sharp knife,” Kithkara replied, a wicked grin curving the corners of her mouth.

A gasping sob erupted from somewhere in the crowd and thunder rumbled loud enough to shake the very stones of the keep. Kithkara and Hexian both whirled toward the sound as the crowd parted once more to reveal both of Valor’s captors writhing on the ground. Valor himself was standing free of bonds, though he seemed a bit shaky.

“Harm her and I will kill you,” Valor warned, his hand dropping toward a sword that was no longer at his side. Rolling his eyes he let out a heavy sigh and moved both hands into a defensive stance before him as if he were prepared to take on the room full of seasoned mercenaries with nothing more than his fists. A spasm rocked the bodies of the two groaning men at his feet and they abruptly fell still.

“If they are dead, your life is forfeit,” Kithkara informed him in a flat voice, ignoring his threat completely.

“Well, this is headed down the wrong path swiftly,” Hexian muttered.

“Now would be a splendid time to wake up Sovann,” Valor hissed, his eyes moving constantly across the crowds for anyone moving. “They aren’t dead for now, simply unconscious. Release her and they will continue to live,” Valor added in a louder voice.

“You are outnumbered forty to one, you idiot,” someone called from the crowd. A wave of nervous laughter echoed through the room then dropped to silence once more as Kithkara held up a slender hand.

Moving slowly, Kithkara began to walk toward Valor. The sound of her boot heels echoed through the silent hall. “Do you know what they call the armies of Kithvaryn, little boy?” she asked softly.

In for a copper, in for a gold. Jala smiled as Finn’s words surfaced from her memories. In this situation, Finn would fight no matter the odds, and there was no way she would let Valor stand alone in any fight. As long as she still drew breath she would fight beside him.

Drawing quickly on her power, Jala sent a violent shock into the man still holding her. It was not enough to kill the man, simply stun him. She felt him spasm and fall back away from her. Her balance wavered as he released her and she barely managed to keep her footing as she quickly cast a spell to cut the bonds that held her.

“Corpses, if we continue here,” Jala answered as Kithkara whirled once more to face her at the sound of her captor’s fall. Flexing her wrists, Jala watched the shredded remains of rope fall from her wrists and straightened her shoulders as she met the other woman’s eyes fully. “I’m here to speak with Kithvaryn, but if you’d rather this become bloody then by all means, Commander, draw your blade,” Jala hissed holding both hands out in invitation.

“Well this explains why Finn loved you. You are apparently every bit as brash and bold as he was,” Hexian sighed as he stepped back several feet.

“We are called the Ten Thousand Immortals,” Kithkara continued, though she had stopped her advance toward Valor. Her gaze flicked between the two of them with an expression that suggested they were both foolish children.

“Long name. I’m not impressed,” Jala replied a faint smile curving her own lips. Let the woman consider them children, underestimating the damage she and Valor could create was a huge mistake. Death herself could attest to that.

“There are no half-bloods or commoners among us. Every man and woman on this island is pureblood immortal. To attack us at the odds you now have is suicide,” Kithkara snarled.

“I miss Finn. I can’t say that I would mind seeing him again and I’d rather die fighting than under your knife in torture. That is, if we lose, of course. Valor and I have faced Death herself and lived and somehow I don’t think you are quite as impressive as a Divine Commander,” Jala returned the smile widening on her lips. Tilting her head back she licked her lips and let her eyes rove across the room then back to Kithkara. Soft laughter bubbled from Jala’s lips and she waved her hands once more in invitation. “Just draw the blade,” she pressed the words sounding so much like Finn’s that her smile widened further.