The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4)(31)

“Damn it,” Neph muttered darkly as he realized his hands were once again clenched into fists and he was gritting his teeth just from thinking about dealing with his people. Closing his eyes once more, he leaned back heavily against the door and willed himself back to calm once more. “I need to punch something,” he muttered darkly after several long breaths.

“Neph, are you in there?” Shade’s voice called from the hall beyond and Neph’s hands twitched in response.

“I swear to the Divine, Shade, if you come any closer to this room I will not be responsible for what happens to you,” Neph warned loudly not bothering to move from his spot against the door. At least with his full weight resting against it there was no way Shade could get into the room. It wasn’t that he wanted to preserve Shade’s life; it was simply not in his best interest to kill the little bastard. Neph was Madren’s guest until he reclaimed his own land and Shade was Madren’s friend.

“Are we having a moment, Neph?” Shade asked with amusement clear in his voice.

Neph cocked his head and glanced over his shoulder at the closed door. By the sound of Shade’s voice he was just on the other side of the door and likely leaning against the door frame. It was possible, if he aimed the blow just right he could jab a dagger between the boards of the door and stab the little bastard. It wouldn’t be a fatal blow, but Neph would take what satisfaction he could get. “I really think you should go away now, Shade,” Neph advised through clenched teeth.

“Madren just received a letter from the capital, Neph. It is apparently from the Empress Symphony to all High Lords. There is going to be a council in Sanctuary and all High Lords are requested to attend. There is a problem, though, Neph. Your name isn’t on the missive as a High Lord. There is a Rivasan listed as the Lord of Delvay currently,” Shade’s voice had grown more serious and he paused as if waiting for an answer. Long breaths passed as Neph fought to control his already frayed temper. “Madren wants to know how you want him to respond to the letter. He is considering refusing her invitation unless she names you as the lord of Delvay.” Shade paused again. “You know, I really hate having this conversation through a door. If I could see your face I’m sure I could just read the level of homicidal lunatic you are right now from your expression and decide what to tell Madren without you even saying a word.”

“It’s a really, really high level right now, Shade,” Neph snarled. The trick of slow breathing wasn’t helping at all anymore. Every muscle in his body was rigid and if anyone so much as looked at him wrong he knew he would snap. That didn’t bode well for the irritating little worm outside his door, but then he had tried to warn Shade to leave him alone.

“Like you are trying to figure out how to stab me through the door? That high?” Shade asked in a tone far too conversational for the current topic.

“No, Shade that’s the level I was at when you arrived. That was before you opened your mouth,” Neph hissed through clenched teeth. His knuckles were beginning to turn white from how tightly his fists were clenched.

“So you must be somewhere near chewing through the door to strangle me with my own entrails about now,” Shade mused thoughtfully.

“I don’t need to chew through the door, Shade. I know how to work a door knob, but yes, I would like to choke you with your own entrails right now and stab you repeatedly in the face and possibly piss on whatever remains of your body when I’m done stomping on it,” Neph spoke over his shoulder in a voice that was far too calm for his current frame of mind, but he wanted to make sure Shade got the full picture painted very clearly in his mind.

“Colorful. Very good imagery there, Neph. You are incredibly cranky. Got it. I will let Madren know and advise him how to ans wer accordingly, then. Have a good night pumpkin.” By the sound of his voice, Shade was already part way down the hall and it was quite possibly the only thing that saved his life.

“I want to go home,” Neph whispered and when he closed his eyes once more it was Merrodin he pictured in his mind, not Delvay. He missed them all, though he hated to admit it. He would happily trade everything he had for a chance to just sit and work with Jala on magic again. Jala was dead, though, and he was the lord of Delvay. He had responsibilities no matter how much he might despise them.

Pushing off the door he slowly crossed to the far side of the room and dropped lightly to his knees in front of the make shift altar he had fashioned. His eyes roved over the symbols of the Aspects and Divine and he let out a heavy sigh. He had been praying every night since he had arrived in Goswin and so far he had no signs that the gods were listening.