From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)(45)

“Valorous be gone!” Valor bellowed as he pushed Jala toward the double doors at the top of the stairs.

Jala barely glimpsed the Arovanni fading before her attention was focused on the doors themselves. She knew there would be protection wards lacing them and she didn’t have time to unweave them gently. Drawing her power in, she held a hand up for Valor to wait as she prepared a blast of raw magic. Lifting her hands before her she ignited the magic in the focus gems Sovann had given her and held her breath. Focusing her gaze, she pulled her hand back to release the magic as the doors opened silently, revealing a soft glow of firelight beyond them. Jala let the power slide from her grasp and stared in disbelief at the obvious invitation before them.

“Well done! That was much neater than what you did to the gates in Sanctuary,” Valor said quietly with an impressed look on his face.

Jala blinked and then looked over at him in annoyance. “That’s because I didn’t open the doors. She did,” she explained dryly.

“Ahh. Well, then, that’s unsettling isn’t it?” Valor said hesitantly. He placed one hand on his sword hilt as he moved forward cautiously to take the lead.

“Valor, no, wait. Let me go first in case there are spell traps,” Jala said quickly as she moved in front of him.

“I don’t like the idea of your being in the lead,” Valor protested.

“And I don’t like the idea of being splattered with bits of Stormlord if you step on a trap,” Jala replied calmly, her eyes already scanning the ground ahead.

“Well, when you put it that way.” Valor relented and motioned her forward with a nod. His words were followed closely by the sound of his sword being drawn.

“There doesn’t seem to be any traps at all,” Jala whispered as she looked up from the floor and gazed around the entry hall of the palace. The room was massive and most of it was lost in shadow to her gaze. Torches flickered along the walls at intervals but their light did little more than add an eerie flicker to the dark stone. The faint edges of curving stairs were barely visible along both sides of the wall, but it was the steady glow that emanated from the open doors between them that drew her eye.

“No guards either,” Valor said softly, his eyes scanning the room as well.

“I think I would prefer traps and guards,” Jala admitted and let out a light breath as she squared her shoulders and began walking toward the open doors before her.

Spirits drifted along the walls and corners of the room, but they paid no attention to Jala or Valor as they entered. Their attention was fully devoted to the dark robed figure that sat comfortably on a throne at the far end of the room. Jala scanned the room once more, her eyes briefly lingering on a pillar of dark flames near the throne. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it didn’t seem to be a threat. In fact, nothing in the room looked threatening, not even Death herself. If anything the Divine looked relaxed and showed no indication that she even knew her city was under siege.

“Have you come to make another deal with me, Jala Merrodin?” Death asked, her voice rasping and hoarse.

“I’ve come for Finn,” Jala replied loudly, her back straight as she approached the throne. She could hear Valor’s footsteps behind her and by the sound she knew he was as determined as she was.

“He is mine now. What have you to trade? The Arovan?” Death asked, leaning forward.

“Finn swore his soul to me three times. You have stolen what is mine and I’m here to take him back. I haven’t come to trade or deal with you,” Jala pressed as she stopped several feet from the throne, her eyes locked on Death.

“All dead are mine, foolish girl, no matter what words they speak in life. Besides, Finn made a deal with me. I’m sure you remember it. The same time you agreed to break a curse, Finn offered me something else entirely. His service after death in return for your safety from my domain,” Death said, her voice filled with amusement. “You have wasted your time if you have simply come to make demands. I’m feeling generous today, though. The harvest has been good this year and it’s not often that I have guests. I will not accept the Arovan alone as a trade. I will however take the child and the Arovan for the one you seek.”

“You will not have either!” Jala snapped.

“I told you she was difficult to deal with,” a familiar voice drawled behind her. She heard Valor utter a curse and turned to watch the grey cloaked figure slowly cross the room to stand by Death’s throne. “It took me so many visits to get her to be willing for barter and still she was a bit of a bitch about it, despite how good a deal I made her.” There was no mistaking Hemlock’s voice, no matter how much Jala wished she could forget the sound of it.

“You bastard,” Jala hissed, her power already rising for a spell.

“Tut, tut. Let’s not be hasty there, Jala. Do you really want to end the conversation that way?” Hemlock shook a finger at her, a smile barely showing beneath the grey hood of his cloak. “How about this, Death. In honor of Jala’s former reverence for Fortune, how about you offer her a wager? Perhaps a duel. That would honor Finn as well, given his former occupation.”

“Mmm. That could prove interesting,” Death agreed and leaned back in her throne once more. “Your champion versus mine. If you win, you get Finn and I allow you to leave my domain. If I win, I get the Arovan and the child and I still allow you to leave. That’s more than fair, I think.”