From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)(26)

“Whatever you plan to do you had better do it. I wouldn’t simply taunt them and leave it at that,” Valor hissed in her ear.

“I can make you eternal as well. I can make sure you are always remembered and never forgotten again,” Jala called, her voice pitched loudly to carry through the trees. “I’ve come to make an offer to you; an offer that will ensure you will always be remembered.”

“This is a first. Would you have me believe that you didn’t simply wander into our lands? That you actually sought us out?” a man’s voice called from the fog louder and clearer than the rest had been.

“It is the truth. We have come here seeking you, though our guide bid us to go around,” Jala replied. “Are you the leader? The one that holds the Forgotten together?” she asked loudly.

“I am the one they follow,” the man replied as he stepped from the mists and regarded them. In life he must have been impressive. In death he was terrifying. His skin was bleached as white as old bone, while his eyes remained sunken and black. Large spikes extended from the armor on his shoulders with skulls impaled upon them. Most were simply bone, but others still had traces of flesh clinging raggedly to them. Had Valor stood before this man, the Forgotten Lord would have towered over her knight companion and the axe he held looked as though it could shatter any sword.

“Then I name you Axis, for you are their center and thus I will remember you,” Jala said calmly, hoping her plan worked.

The man froze, his expression filled with distrust. “You cannot simply do that. You cannot simply name a man, and say that it is his,” he began, though there was a note of hope in his voice.

Jala tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at him. “Can I not? I was once told by a dear friend that we have three names in life. The first is given by our mothers when we are born, the second is a nickname that is given by friends, and the third is earned through our deeds. In my eyes you have earned your name by leading your people. Thus I grant you a name and promise you will no longer be forgotten.”

Murmuring filled the fog though it was no longer filled with anger. In places, the mist parted enough for her to catch a glimpse of another figure. Here a woman watching them curiously; there a small child.

“Step forth and tell me of yourselves, so that I might remember you all,” Jala offered, her eyes locked on the small blond haired child watching them from beside a tree. In life the girl had likely been adorable. In death she was a mockery of innocence. Her small pursed lips were blue and her skin was the color of a fish’s belly. Her eyes were the most disturbing, however. Unlike the other dead Jala had seen, this child’s eyes retained their original color of pale blue. There was no childlike light in them, however. They were cold and held nothing but hatred.

“Why would you do this?” Axis demanded loudly and the murmuring ceased at once.

“Because I need your help,” Jala replied simply and truthfully.

Axis laughed a bitter cold sound and swept his gaze over his people. “The living High Lady wishes the assistance of the lowly dead,” he called in a mocking voice.

“The living High Lady requests the help of the Forgotten,” Jala corrected. “The ones that are so feared in the Darklands that my guide refused to cross their borders. The ones that even Death’s demons will not approach.”


Axis’s expression changed a bit with her words and he took a step closer, his head cocked to one side in a parody of her own. Jala straightened in the saddle and felt Valor tense behind her. “For the love of god don’t draw your sword,” she hissed to him.

Valor let out a long breath and nodded though it was obvious he didn’t want to agree with her. “I trust you. If you believe this will work, I will have faith,” he whispered.

“Don’t have too much faith. If he raises that axe, draw your sword,” Jala replied quickly in a hushed voice as Axis continued to advance. He moved with quick bursts that seemed unnatural to watch and Jala could well imagine what he must be like when fighting. His simple walking was covering twice as much ground as a living man would.

“Who is your guide who would not cross our boundary?” Axis asked, his voice low. He had stopped walking several feet back from them and seemed more curious than hostile at the moment.

“Fiona Veirasha, a legend among the people in the sunlit world,” Jala replied loudly, so that all that were gathered could hear. “If Fiona Veirasha fears you, how could I possibly fail to remember the Forgotten? Even if you choose not to help me, I will remember you all.”

Axis shifted where he stood and gazed around at his people once more. “Axis.” He breathed the name, almost seeming to savor the sound of it. Slowly he looked up at Jala again and the same distrust as before crossed his features. “What would you have of us?” he asked.

“I go to face Death. I confront her for her corruption. I ask that the Forgotten help me breach her city. I do not ask you to face the Dark Lady herself. That is my task. I ask only that you help me with her minions that guard her. The demons that already fear you.”

“I think had you asked for anything else I would have let my people rip the flesh from your bones and added your skulls to my armor. For this though…” Axis paused and gave her a hideous parody of a grin that stretched his gaunt face horribly. “For this, the Forgotten will help. Death has wronged many here and we will gladly pay her in turn,” he hissed and hatred filled his voice. Turning away from her, he held his arms up and turned in a half circle. “Come forward and tell your story, the High Lady has a name for you all she says,” he called in a loud booming voice that seemed to shake the trees around them.