From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)(5)

Jala moved the tangled blanket and sat up slowly. Her hair fell forward over her eyes in an untidy tangle and she pushed it back with a sigh. Looking around the camp she spotted Valor crouched several feet away with one hand extended before him. Wind stirred his long silver hair, though the air was still around her. Jala rose slowly and glanced down at the tunic she wore. It was black and silver and hung well past her knees.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to wake up. I hope you excuse me for removing your armor. I thought you would rest better without it. I figured after the weeks we have spent in here that we didn’t have much privacy left between us anyway.” Valor’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. They had learned in their first days to keep silent. Their voices seemed to attract the demons and so conversations had been limited.

“I don’t mind,” Jala whispered as she moved to join him. His words held enough truth to them that she found she wasn’t embarrassed in the least. The first few days had been the most difficult. Body functions were of course necessary for both of them, but the Darklands offered no privacy for such things. In light of having to tend to such business around Valor, the idea of getting upset over his making her more comfortable seemed laughable.

In another time she probably would have laughed. Right now, though, even the effort of a faint smile was too much. If any sound broke from her lips it would likely be a sob. The loss of Finn had become a constant ache in her chest, as was the despair of their current situation. They were lost, with no bearings and very little hope of success. If something didn’t change soon, they would have to abandon the mission to keep her promise to Anthe.

“Careful,” Valor warned as he held out a hand to stop her.

Jala frowned and looked down at his warning. The ground fell away just beyond Valor, though the darkness and gloom made the chasm difficult to spot. She felt her chest tighten again at the sight of their newest obstacle.

The wind died down and Valor looked up at her, studying her expression. His own face was somber and he looked exhausted. “I’ve found a way down. We seem to be on a plateau, though it’s difficult to gauge the actual terrain. There doesn’t seem to be another side to this, though, so just a quick trip down and we go from there.”

“I don’t like the sound of a quick trip down a cliff,” Jala returned dryly as she settled beside him on the ground. Leaning forward a bit she stared down into the inky blackness, though it was a pointless endeavor and she knew it. It was hard enough to see three feet in front of her in the Darklands, let alone down a cliff side.

“Well, we can have a slow trip down if you prefer. I had planned to ride, but we can walk if you like,” Valor said with a shrug.

Jala glanced at him and then back to the cliff side. “You mapped it with the wind didn’t you? That’s what the breeze was when I woke.” She hadn’t had opportunity to study much of the Elemental magics beyond her Windblade spell, but Sovann had managed to explain it to a point.

Valor nodded and plucked a pebble from the ground beside him. Turning it over in his fingers he motioned past her. “Two hundred yards that way and there is a rather narrow path leading down to the base of this cliff.” He paused and motioned in the opposite direction. “That way? Well, the only way I can find down is to jump, which, if our magics were working more reliably, wouldn’t be a bad plan. I don’t like the idea of only one way down. That pretty much guarantees a fight at the bottom. There will be a guardian.”

“Ahh. You are optimistic. You said Guardian as singular. I’m going to guess it will be plural. I’m not feeling optimistic in the least,” Jala replied, struggling to keep the bitterness from her voice at his reminder of her magic. She had assumed that it would work the same in the Darklands as it had in the land above. That assumption had nearly gotten them killed in every fight so far. It was sporadic, to say the least. In some situations her spells worked flawlessly. In others, they simply didn’t work. For him to say “our magic,” was a kindness. His magics seemed to be working fine. It was her failing that he was concerned about. Despair clawed at her once again and she had to fight the urge to weep. She wouldn’t allow herself that, though, not after she had dragged them both into this. If she knew they would find Finn it would be different. She would have no regrets at all then, but if all of this was in vain…

Valor watched her for a long moment, his expression unreadable and then slowly nodded. “This place gets to you after a while doesn’t it? Constant darkness, limited conversation, and I’ve begun to think it actually feeds despair into you. Somewhat like an Empath, I suppose.”

“It doesn’t need to feed me despair. I have a ready supply,” Jala said quietly and brushed her hair back from her face once more. “It’s too much like Merro here. All that is missing is a storm and it would be the same as the day my parents died,” she mumbled, looking up to the sky and half expecting to see thunderheads forming.

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s quite reassuring,” Valor said softly.

Jala turned her gaze from the sky and looked over at him in bewilderment. “What?” she asked in confusion.

“I hope it’s exactly like that day here. As I recall from the little bits I’ve been told and from the fact that you are sitting beside me, you defeated Death that day. She wanted you dead and yet you live. If you can do it as a toddler, it should be a simple matter now.” He smiled as he spoke, but the expression seemed forced.