From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)(110)
“Finn could barely cast a light spell. His proudest accomplishment with magic was figuring out how to cure a hangover. Beyond that he had no use for it. I’m sorry if that was the thin thread that you were clinging to, but you are wrong,” Valor continued in a casual voice despite the growing mutters of anger from their escort.
“Why don’t you just kick them in the balls directly, Valor,” Sovann sighed, his voice sounding as weak as he looked.
“He cheated!” Kithkara repeated her voice nearly a screech as she whirled to face Valor. “And you will not speak ill of the dead. I will not allow it. My son is dead because of you people and you have the nerve to come here? I will see you dead before the sun rises, Arovan. You killed a scout on the beach and that is reason enough for Kithvaryn to spike your head on the battlements.” Whirling once more she faced Jala, her face twisted into a mask of hatred. “And you…” Kithkara began her voice dropping to dangerous tones. “You come here offering me my son back and think I am fool enough to believe it. I will see you die slowly and you will tell me where the cowardly little gutter rat is hiding before you die. I can promise you that.”
“Valor will not die and neither will I, Commander Kithkara. I’m sorry for your loss I truly am. I know how painful it is to lose one you love, but I will not allow you whatever twisted sense of vengeance you believe you will achieve by killing us,” Jala replied calmly. She kept her expression as calm as her words despite the tension of the moment. It wouldn’t take much to provoke Kithkara into a fight. She had seen that much downstairs before Kithvaryn’s intervention.
“I can’t wait to peel that confidence off you,” Kithkara purred as she grabbed Jala’s arm roughly once more and continued up the stairs, nearly dragging Jala behind her as they went.
“I highly suggest you treat Lady Merrodin with more respect,” Valor warned and Jala turned quickly shaking her head at him. His dark blue eyes narrowed slightly and he shook his head at her in defiance.
“Silence,” Kithkara bellowed, her breath coming in uneven gasps.
It was obvious the woman was close to breaking and Jala dreaded even looking at Valor. She wasn’t sure if he was intentionally trying to sabotage her chances or not. Killing the mother of Kithvaryn’s only child would certainly guarantee that no arrangement could be made, and if Valor didn’t stop goading the woman that would be the only choice she had.
A wave of giddy relief washed over Jala as they stopped in front of a door at the top of the stairs and Kithkara pushed her forward. “Wait inside and touch nothing. He will deal with you when he has time,” Kithkara ordered, her voice filled with loathing.
Nodding slowly in understanding Jala pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside the dim lit room, slowly looking around. Maps covered an entire wall, detailing every nation in Sanctuary. On the opposite side of the room stood an enormous bookshelf lined with heavy leather bound volumes and assorted scrolls. Another wall held display racks lined with every type of weapon Jala had ever seen and a few she didn’t even have a name for. The last wall had a small table with two heavily cushioned chairs. A game board was set on the table and, from the scattered pieces, had recently been used. She didn’t spare time to study it however. Her attention was locked on the man seated at the table. His deep purple eyes regarded her with open amusement. Nodding slowly, Vaze stood and bowed slightly to her. The pale lamplight glinted off his dark grey hair as he moved while his black armor seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. She simply stared at him in silence as she tried to contain her emotions. She wasn’t exactly sure what she felt other than turmoil. Vaze had disappeared from Merro while she was still in her sickbed and the last memories she had of her Uncle were of his sending Finn back to hell and arguing that taking her child might be the best course of action. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what emotions she felt, but none of them were good.
“Jala,” Vaze said in simple greeting as he stood from the bow and dropped lightly back into the chair.
“What are you doing here?” Jala demanded in a low voice.
“The same as you. Attempting to negotiate a deal with the Ten Thousand, I would guess. Although I am rather surprised to see you here, considering…,” Vaze answered, his voice trailing off with the last. He studied her as he spoke and she could see questions that he wasn’t yet voicing.
Jala sighed and nodded slightly before glancing back to Valor and Sovann. Valor had managed to come through their ordeals with the storm and shipwreck and still manage to look presentable. Sovann and she on the other hand must look like bedraggled street orphans. Glancing down at herself, Jala took in the salt stained dress and her bare feet. She couldn’t even remember losing her shoes and hadn’t truly missed them until their long walk up the stone stairs.
Lamely she raised a hand to her hair and tried in vain to bring order to her wine colored curls. Her frown deepened as her hand brushed something and she pulled away a sprig of seaweed. Looking back at her companions she sighed. “Neither of you could spare a moment to tell me I had bloody seaweed in my hair?” she asked her tone one of pure exasperation.
“Hadn’t even noticed it,” Sovann muttered as he moved to a chair and dropped limply into the cushions.
“I found it rather amusing,” Valor replied easily, his gaze on her was anything but sympathetic and Jala couldn’t really blame him. She had earned his anger and she knew it. Between her private dealings with Seravae and their being held prisoner, it was a wonder he was talking with her at all.