From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)(13)

“I don’t see how they can possibly interfere with Jala right now…,” Sovann began but let his voice trail off. He pursed his lips as he gave the matter more thought and shifted a few items on his work table.

Emily smiled at the habit. It was one of the few entertainments she had while working with Sovann on his secret project. He was very particular about his work tables and liked everything to be perfectly in place. So when she grew bored she roamed the room shifting things around.

“Whatever we tell him, he will report back to the Fionaveir leaders. It won’t take long for gossip to spread. Jala didn’t say that we should keep silent on this but I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize their returning safely. It’s not that I don’t trust my brother, but I don’t know how far the gossip will go. If the Fionaveir leaders keep it to themselves we don’t have a problem,” Wisp said, her voice filled with concern.

Sovann nodded slowly and then smiled brightly, looking over at Wisp with decision clear on his face. “All right, where is Neph?” he asked sweetly.

“Overseeing the grain that’s being stored and he is in a foul temper because of it. Apparently the flour has been cut with sawdust, or so he says. The last I spoke with him, he was planning to ride north to Brannaford to… How did he put it? Ahh. Strangle the crooked bastard with his own innards. Yes, that was it,” Wisp replied with a faint smile of her own.

“Fetch him and tell him to deal with the Fionaveir.” Sovann said with a firm nod and started to go back to his work.

“But I love my brother! Why would I sick Neph on him?” Wisp objected with a hint of a whine to her lovely voice. She shifted where she stood and twisted the fabric of her green tunic in her hands.

That, too, was a habit Emily had noticed time and again. She didn’t need to hear their words to know their feelings. She had studied these immortals far too often. Wisp always twisted at her cloak or tunic when she was upset.

“Neph won’t kill him Wisp, and Victory will be less apt to press Neph for answers than he would you. Chances are, once Neph walks into that room Victory is going to accept whatever comes out of Neph’s mouth without argument, and hurry home just to avoid further conversation,” Sovann assured her with a wink.

“If you say so,” Wisp agreed, though she didn’t sound at all sure of the plan. Motioning to Devony she turned back toward the door. “Come on Dev, let’s go find Neph.”

Devony leaped up from the ground at a sprint and was through the door before Wisp had taken more than three steps.

Sovann shook his head and let out a long sigh. “I really wish you would help us ease her fear of you a bit, Emily,” he said softly as the door closed.

“Sometimes fear is healthy, Sovann. That child should be terrified of the unknown,” Emily replied in her customary whisper and moved silently to another perch in the room.

“The unknown, yes, but you, no. You are one of us, remember?” Sovann pressed gently and lifted his pen once more. A book lay sprawled in front of him, filled with random marks that Emily had never been able to decipher. Every time she had so much as glanced into the pages the ink seemed to writhe on the paper and made her head ache.

“If you say so,” she agreed in a skeptical voice. With Jala and Marrow here, she had felt as though she belonged. Now, though, it was harder to believe. She felt no connection with these people, not even with Jail who had helped her work through some of her more base instincts with his mind magics. They were one thing, and she was quite another. They are prey and you are predator, a small voice whispered inside her and she hushed it quickly. It had been whispering things in her mind for days and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was another’s words, or her own thoughts that she had been repressing.

“I do say so, Emily. I know you are out of sorts right now. We all are. The loss of Finn, and then Jala and Valor, combined with trying to get things started here, and we are all under tremendous stress. We have to work together and rely on each other now, though, and it is important to remember you are one of us,” Sovann said, his gaze locked on the book his hand, moving quickly as he added more notations.

“If you say so,” Emily repeated, moving her position again as she spoke. She never stayed put after making noise. It just wasn’t safe. Sovann wasn’t that paranoid though, she noted as she came to a stop right behind him. His head was still bent forward, his attention fully on his project. He didn’t worry at all about what was around him, or what might happen. One quick blow to the spine and he turns from annoying mage to meat, the voice whispered again and Emily stared hard at the bronzed skin on the back of Sovann’s neck. His hair was pulled back in a tail tied loosely at the base of his neck, just barely revealing that sweet spot on a human’s spine. The spot that held so many nerve endings and was so fragile. One blow there and no matter if it was Immortal or human, it was incapacitated.

“I think we almost have it, Emily. A few more days and I think I’ll be able to create the first runes,” Sovann said absently, once again speaking to the wrong area of the room.

Emily arched her brows and smiled faintly. He should learn to heed the advice she gave, even if it was directed toward the child. A little more fear would do wonders for Sovann’s survival.

Her attention snapped up as the door opened once more and Jail stepped into the room. Emily watched the big mage as he surveyed the room, then smiled faintly at Sovann. “I wondered if I might borrow Emily for a time. I think she is due for a bit of therapy today,” he said in a calm voice, though the expression in his eyes was one of anger. He was dressed casually in a loose tunic and breeches and, as always, had a neatness about him that seemed at odds with his huge muscular frame. The only difference she noted was the slender hilt of a sword that showed just over his left shoulder. Emily had never seen Jail armed before. He always fought with his bare hands.