From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)(37)

“I want to know how she expects me to know when the bloody hell afternoon is when there is no god-forsaken sun in this place,” Valor snapped and shook his head in disgust. “And as I told her, I will be silent when I have to. You may be feeling more rational, but I still find comfort in talking.”

“I don’t think she wanted us to know exactly when it was, actually. I think she just wanted us to shut the hell up now,” Jala said with a shrug. Her stomach seemed to be calming with Valor bracing her in the saddle. “Do you ever want to just kick me off the horse so you can actually sit in your own saddle rather than behind it? That has to be uncomfortable in armor.”

“The blanket is folded back here. I think it might be more comfortable behind the saddle than it is in the saddle.” Valor replied with a shrug. “And no, I have never had the desire to kick you off the horse. I did have the desire to shove you off the air pad you were sleeping on last night, but that was spawned from the memory of your shoving me off a bed at Anthe’s. I decided, however, I will wait until you are not pregnant and then strike.”

“You wouldn’t wake up at Anthe’s. What was I supposed to do?” Jala replied, glancing back at him once more.

“Something other than push me off the bed perhaps? I pity your child when he oversleeps. The poor boy is going to have the most horrendous fear of falling by the time he is grown,” Valor said with a note of sympathy in his voice.

“Fiona has stopped walking. Do you see anything?” Jala said her voice dropping to a hushed whisper.

Valor pulled the horse slowly to a stop and scanned the area ahead of them. After a long moment he shook his head slowly. “I don’t, but Valorous smells something,” he whispered, sounding puzzled.

“What?” Jala asked, glancing back at him.

“Uhh. I’m not sure that he is right. Give me a moment.” Valor mumbled and moved his hand from her stomach to rest on the side of the horse’s neck.

“Blackberries, perhaps?” The shadows to the right of their horse parted revealing a man crouched atop a rock. Valor let out a curse behind her and dropped quickly from the horse, already reaching for his sword.

“Wait, Valor. I know him,” Jala blurted, reaching down quickly to grab Valor by the shoulder before he could draw his steel. “Vaze, what the hell are you doing here?” she snapped. It had been so long since she had him, but there was no forgetting someone like Vaze. With the eerie black armor and the veritable armory of swords Vaze had a way of stamping himself into memories.

Vaze stood slowly on the rock and dropped down to the ground in front of Valor. The knight was slightly taller, which seemed to amuse Vaze who smiled up at him and winked. “Visiting. How are you finding the Darklands?” he replied in a perfectly conversational tone.

“What are you doing back here?” Fiona demanded as she stalked toward the three of them. Her gaze was locked on Vaze with an expression that made her earlier fury seem like mere irritation.

Vaze glanced toward Fiona and then back up to Jala. “You found the bitchiest guide in the Darklands. Well done. Here, Shade said these were your favorites.” He tossed a small sack up to her and turned to face Fiona. “Hello, Fiona. How have you been?” he asked sweetly.

Jala caught the bag and looked down at Valor who was staring up at her in disbelief. “He is one of the Fionaveir,” she explained with a shrug. “I didn’t expect to see him, though. I haven’t seen him since I was twelve.”

“Vaze, what are you doing here? I really doubt you are simply visiting.” Jala pressed.

“You are going to need Valor in the city. So I’ve come to deal with Davrian for you. I suppose Trystan, too, if we have the misfortune of running into him. He is a bit of an ass, though. Best to avoid that one,” Vaze explained as if he were offering to help with minor chores.

“Ahh. Just that easy, eh? Well, then, why don’t you clear the bloody city for her as well?” Fiona snapped and rolled her eyes at Vaze.

“I have to leave something for the Forgotten to do. It wouldn’t be right to take all of the fun,” Vaze replied lightly.

“You are such an egomaniac,” Fiona snapped again. “Worse than before, and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Wait, you’ve been here before?” Jala asked, dumbfounded.

“And you were actually willing to come back?” Valor added sounding just as incredulous as she was.

“It’s been eight years and this place isn’t nearly as tedious for me as it has been for you two. That’s good though. Had your progress been faster I wouldn’t have been able to get here in time. As it stands, it was a near thing. You are about two days from Davrian now,” Vaze explained.

“Are you saying Valor couldn’t handle it?” Fiona asked with a smirk.

“I’m not really sure that I could have handled it cleanly. Davrian is a legendary warrior that is centuries old. I’m a twenty-five year old tourney knight,” Valor cut in before Vaze could reply.

“You could have,” Jala said quietly. She had seen Valor’s determination and courage, and there was no doubt in her mind that if she needed Valor to accomplish something he would.

Fiona looked up at her sharply and opened her mouth to reply, but Vaze’s hand clamped down over her mouth before a single word could be formed. “Eat your tarts before they get cold, Jala. There are two in that bag in case you are in a sharing mood,” Vaze ordered and then looked to Valor. “I’ve brought supplies. How long since you’ve had a decent meal?”