From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)(111)

“Fair enough,” Jala conceded and moved to kneel beside Sovann. Taking both of his hands in hers she called on the healing magic and sent the spell coursing through Sovann, finding each bruise and scrape and healing them all. A wave of dizziness washed over her as she finished and she fell back onto her butt on the carpet as the magic faded from her.

“Are you all right?” Sovann asked, his voice little more than a whisper. His eyes flicked toward Vaze who watched them with intense interest.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Jala murmured and felt a pang in her chest as she pulled her knees up against her stomach and rested her forehead against them. A day ago, Valor would have been at her side in an instant had she shown weakness. Now he stood with his back to her, examining maps on the wall with an interest she knew he didn’t truly hold.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Sovann asked softly, his voice filled with concern. He hadn’t missed Valor’s continued anger either. Not that anyone truly could with the storm still raging outside.

Jala slowly shook her head, not bothering to look up at Sovann. She didn’t want to see the look of hurt on his face. Really she didn’t want to see his face at all right now. It wasn’t Sovann himself. It was how much he resembled his brother. If Finn were here now, Valor wouldn’t have any reason to be angry with her and she wouldn’t be in this damned fortress to begin with. She wouldn’t be contemplating marriage with Ash. None of this would be happening if she just had Finn. Of course, she wouldn’t have an army to face Avanti either.

This does no good, Jala. You are borrowing misery that you don’t need. Lock him away for now please. Now is not the time to mourn for Finn, Marrow’s voice was faint as if he were a vast distance from her and she felt panic rise at the thought. I’m just outside the fortress, Jala. You know that. You are not alone. You are never alone, Jala.

I can’t stand his anger at me, Marrow. It’s worse than a knife in the gut. Even more so because I know I deserve it. Jala tried to keep the desperation from her voice but knew she failed. Wrapping both arms around her knees she buried her face farther into the salt stained skirts and squeezed her eyes as tightly shut as she could.

Have you ever actually had a knife in the gut? I’m fairly certain that if I were given the choice of having Valor angry with me for a while or getting stabbed in my innards I would choose the pissed off knight, Marrow shot back, his voice laced with sarcasm.

I’m tired, Marrow. I hurt. I miss my son. I’ve gotten us all captured. I’m hungry. I think I’m still a touch hung over, and my closest friend has more interest in maps than anything I have to say. Please, just this once, allow me to be melodramatic and not make fun of me for it, Jala returned in a voice filled with misery.

Such a heartfelt plea I think I might have actually had mercy for you had you thought to make the request before I had already made fun of you. Pity, I suppose we will have to make a rain check on that one and I will continue to prod you for your current whininess, Marrow’s tone was light and mocking and for a moment she was hurt until she realized what he was doing.

You are trying to piss me off, Jala accused in an indignant tone.

Piss you off, make you laugh, distract you. I would take any of those options over your pain, Jala. I feel what you feel, remember. I may not share the sentiments exactly, but I do share them. I miss him, too, Jala. He was my friend as well. Now is not the time for it though. You are in your enemy’s lair, Jala, and you are cowering on the carpet like a frightened hare. You are not weak. You are not timid. Get up and let all who see you know you are Bendazzi.

There is no one in the room to impress Marrow. I don’t need to worry yet, Jala assured him, her forehead still planted firmly on her knees. Each crack of thunder from the storm outside seemed an accusation and made her want to curl into a tighter ball.

Just because you don’t see them, Jala, doesn’t mean they don’t see you, Marrow warned and she had to agree with his logic. Had she been in Kithvaryn’s place she would likely spy a bit before entering. It did explain his delayed arrival nicely.

Perhaps he thinks I am simply resting. I did get shipwrecked and whacked in the head, Jala countered.

And if that’s all that it takes to bring you low, he shouldn’t have to see you as a threat, Marrow pressed.

Well in my bloody defense I did just lift a curse and resurrect a nation. I think I’m allowed to be a bit woozy, Jala snapped back then tensed as she felt a hand settle on her shoulder gently. Raising her head slowly she met Valor’s blue eyes with a questioning look. He was kneeling in front of her with his head bent toward her and concern was written clearly on his face.

“Are you OK?” Valor asked softly, his voice absent of the anger that had been lacing it since the ship. She nodded silently, unwilling to speak. “You make it impossible to stay mad, you know that. I want to rail at you. I want to shake some sense into you. Then I see you sitting like this for so long and all of that fades and all I want to do is make sure you are OK.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper as if he didn’t want anyone else in the room to hear his words.

Jala could hear the storm outside slackening as the driving rain slowed and the lightning began to subside. Valor continued to kneel in front of her, watching her carefully, his expression growing more concerned with her silence. Leaning forward a bit she rested her forehead against his shoulder and closed her eyes once more. “I don’t want any of this, Valor. I want to go home. I want to see my son and I want to grieve for my husband. I don’t want war and I don’t want to negotiate with people.” Leaning back, she met his eyes once more and held his gaze. “Most of all I never want to hear the sound of thunder when you look at me again. I don’t want to ever know that you are so angry at me that it requires the use of the heavens to voice it.”