From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)(20)

“On the day she arrives in the city? We aren’t even going to give her a chance to get settled?” Shade asked, incredulous.

“Afraid not. Time works differently in the Darklands, and while its only three days for us, it’s much longer for Jala. Symphony will need the distraction anyway. It will keep her mind off the dead,” Vaze answered with a sigh.

“So you convinced Lutheron to let you go?” Shade asked, shaking his head slightly. Lutheron had seemed quite firm on the subject.

Vaze regarded him with deep purple eyes and the smile slowly returned to his face. “I didn’t ask him, Shade. I follow the orders he gives me. I will kill the Blights before I go, as he asked. Whatever I do after that is my own business. I’m a councilor of the Fionaveir, not a lowly grunt to hang on his every word.”

“He seemed so adamant,” Shade began but Vaze cut him off with a quick gesture of the hand.

“And so am I. I have been remiss. She is my blood and I shouldn’t have left her as I did. When Magdalyn died, I should have collected Jala myself rather than allow her to be left at the temple. I don’t think she was foolish in the least for entering the Darklands. I think she was bold as our line should be. I won’t see her die because of it.” Vaze stopped walking and looked to Shade. The smile was no longer on his face as he spoke. “Will you assist me with Lutheron’s attention until I’m out of the city?”

“If you will answer one question for me,” Shade said quietly as he looked around for anyone that might be listening.

“And what would that be?” Vaze asked. He raised an eyebrow at Shade and then made a quick gesture with one hand. The shadows of the street seemed to lengthen around them and the area grew silent of all other noise. “Speak freely, no one will overhear. The Shadows guard our words now.”

“What is the council doing about the traitor? Surely you will admit there is one after the night of the assault. The Justicars were bloody well waiting for us,” Shade said, his eyes locked on Vaze’s face. He’d always been good at reading people, just not so good at acting according to what he read. Vaze however was difficult to read anything from. The man had a guarded way about him, not giving any hints to his thoughts.

“I will tell you this. There were only four people that knew the staging points for the assault. Lutheron, who planned the attack, and the three group leaders he chose. Myself, Caspian, and Faramir. The common belief around the council is that the plans were overheard. I, however, have turned down two lunch invitations from Faramir since that night,” Vaze said and then smiled faintly. “Take what you will from my words and use it discreetly.”

“I see. Thank you for the honesty. I will distract Lutheron for you,” Shade said with a nod. The answer was cryptic of course but he had expected as much. Still it was more than Charm had given him in answer so far.

Vaze’s smile widened. “Of course, if I’m the traitor that was fabulous misdirection,” he whispered and flicked his hand. The shadows died away and the noise of the day returned. Giving Shade a wink, he turned on his heels and headed back toward the Justicar’s hall.

“Bloody intrigue. It’s like bread and water to us,” Shade sighed and picked up his crowbar from the ground. Vaze’s words still rang in his mind regarding the traitor. Only four people had known and those four should have been the most trustworthy members of the Fionaveir. Caspian had founded the organization. It was extremely doubtful that he would be the traitor to his own cause. Then Faramir of course was Caspian’s wife and had been a founding member as well. That left Lutheron and Vaze, and Lutheron seemed a fanatic when it came to Symphony. Vaze was the only one that didn’t have rock solid reasoning for loyalty, which made his parting words even more ominous. He had, of course, never actually said the traitor was Faramir. So what if Faramir suspected him, and he knew. That would be reason enough to refuse lunch with her. “Bloody intrigue,” Shade repeated with a growl of frustration and turned his mind to the ship. At least his ship was something he understood clearly, unlike Immortals.





Chapter 4





The Darklands





“Are you sure that’s Fiona Veirasha?” Jala hissed as the pale knight stopped several feet from them.

“Positive. She was a childhood hero of mine. I have several books regarding her and they all have pictures looking like that,” Valor replied in a hushed voice, motioning toward the woman. “With the exception of the blood of course,” he amended just as softly.

“I’m afraid they don’t let you choose your attire in the afterlife. I count myself quite fortunate that my head is on my shoulders, considering.” Fiona broke in. Her voice was a loud whisper with a faint hissing to the words. She looked them over critically from Jala leaning on the horse, one leg suspended behind her, to Valor’s rather ragged appearance, and made a clicking noise with her tongue. “Not what I expected in champions, but I suppose you will do,” she sighed and gave a slight shrug.

“Champions?” Jala asked, unsure exactly what the woman was talking about. They were not champions of any cause other than rescuing Finn.

“You will both need rest before you face the Dark lady. Come. I will show you to relative safety.” Fiona motioned for them to follow and turned toward the trees without another word.