From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)(125)

“Are you all right?” Victory had approached so silently that he hadn’t even heard a rustle in the undergrowth. The damned Fae had a way about such things and moments like this made Havoc hate them for it.

“Fine,” Havoc muttered roughly, not bothering to look up at Victory as he replaced his dagger on his belt.

“From the looks of the camp there was a dragon involved,” Victory said softly. He doubtless knew that Havoc had already determined that, but was choosing to give him a subject other than Kes.

“I’m bloody well sick of losing friends, Vic,” Havoc said in a choked voice. He hated himself for it, but if there was anyone in the world that would understand it was Victory.

“I’ve grown rather sick of it, myself,” Victory agreed sadly, his gaze straying to the pathetic corpse hanging from the tree.

“She said they have Magebreakers as well as Dragons. I don’t even know what the hell a Magebreaker is, but I promised her I would kill them all,” Havoc mumbled and turned his back on the camp completely. Having Victory see him with glassy eyes and a choked voice was one thing, but he would be damned if he would allow any of the Delvay to see him in this condition.

“As the name implies, they are trained to break mages. They are created using individuals with the ability to siphon and through their learning they build up reservoirs bigger than any mage alive. Unlike a normal mage who stockpiles his energy, a Magebreaker will spend everything he has before a battle and go in as dry as a desert with the intention of draining dry whoever is using magic. They are nearly impossible for a mage to beat in combat and I can’t imagine the Delvay Spellblades will have much luck facing them,” Victory explained in an almost droning voice as if he were reciting an old lesson from memory.

The sound of approaching footsteps silenced them both and Havoc watched as Kadan approached with a grim look on his stern face. The Delvay lord barely spared them a glance as he moved past them to the tree and stood before Kes’s body for a long moment before speaking. “Was she alive when you arrived?” he asked in a voice that seemed far too calm for someone that had just found a dead sister. Even if Kes was adopted, there should have been more emotion there, at the very least a show of anger.

“She was, but barely,” Havoc answered, his own voice going colder.

“Havoc,” Victory warned. His partner knew him well enough to gauge his moods by his voice. Kadan apparently didn’t.

“This is your knife wound then? Why the hell didn’t you wait until she had time to report to me?” Kadan growled, turning to face Havoc with a scowl on his face.

“Because she was in agony, you sorry bastard and I didn’t want to watch her suffer for your convenience,” Havoc snapped back, his anger rising to block out the grief.

“Havoc,” Victory warned again with a note of pleading to his voice.

“Watch your mouth, Havoc,” Kadan hissed, his hand dropping to his sword hilt. They were all tired from the fighting they had seen and it made tempers short. Too short perhaps. Kadan and he had never gotten along even on the best of days.

“Or what, Kadan? You are going to draw steel on me? Do you actually think you can win against me? I’ve seen more fighting in the last year than you have seen in your whole bloody life,” Havoc snarled as he began to stalk toward the High Lord of Delvay. “Personally, I wish you would draw, Kadan. I’d love to show you a fraction of the agony your sister felt and see how willing you are to live with it.”

“I am Delvay. Pain is nothing,” Kadan returned, his voice rising with his temper.

“This isn’t solving anything! Don’t we have enough enemies already without you two fighting? She did give a bloody report. She gave it to Havoc before she died. If you two would stop, we can track down the bastards that did this!” Victory’s voice rang through the clearing with more anger than Havoc had ever heard from him. Normally, Victory was the rational one, the even tempered diplomat, now he almost sounded Firym.

“Vic,” Havoc muttered stupidly as he stared at his friend in disbelief.

“I’m so god damned sick of your dick measuring. I’ve been watching it for weeks. Honestly, do you two have nothing better to do with your time than irritate each other? Kes is dead and you two care more about fighting with each other than stopping her killers or saving the rest of Delvay. You are both god damned morons. Firym are tough. Delvay are tough. You are both complete bad asses and I shudder at the thought of your power. Are you happy now? Will you shut up and do something productive now?” The Fae’s chest was heaving as he finished his tirade and he shook his head in disgust at both of them.

“Damn, Vic, a moron? That is a bit harsh,” Havoc muttered, his posture going back to relaxed as he exchanged looks with Kadan. He tried to keep his tone light despite the emotions raging inside him. He had never seen Victory this close to snapping before, not even when Veir fell.

“She gave the report?” Kadan asked cautiously, his eyes flicking to Victory as he spoke. Apparently the sight of the Fae unhinged was just as disturbing to the Delvay as it had been for him to witness.

“She said Nerathane had joined the fight and that they had Magebreakers,” Havoc said with barely a glance toward Kadan. His attention was fully focused on Victory who was leaning against a tree, his eyes locked on Kes’s burnt body.

“That could be Jala or Wisp if we don’t stop them Havoc,” Victory whispered softly. The anger had left his face now and he seemed pale and drained.