The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4)(95)

“Say that again after you meet the creature. By the way, it has chosen the name Dray since Zoelyn refuses to call it Undrae. Apparently it is quite willing to be called monster. That, in itself, leaves me wondering what exactly I should do,” Valor said as he glanced once more toward the cabinet. “You see, technically I don’t have to be the heir of Arovan, now,” he paused as he looked back at Neph. “I just have to inform my Uncle that his only son bedded a Blight before he died. Somehow I think that information might put a bit of a shadow on Micah’s memory. Right now, everyone remembers him as a hero and a champion against the Blights,” he finished in a disgusted voice.

“I will get the wine,” Neph offered with a nod as he rose from his chair and moved to fetch glasses. With everything he had just heard, he fully understood why Valor wanted a drink. He rarely drank and he was craving one now. “Well, you have explained your mood. You haven’t explained the coin, though,” Neph said in an attempt to steer the conversation to a topic that might be less painful for his friend to discuss.

“Ahh. That. It’s my dead sister’s soul that I can’t return to my parents,” Valor said in a voice laced with bitterness.

“What?” Neph exclaimed, nearly dropping the wine bottle. Well so much for a less painful topic, he mused as he watched Valor’s face. The only other time he had seen Valor this miserable was after the battle when Jala had died. The knight was calmer now, but there was the same look of pain in his eyes.

“Jala saved her in the Darklands when we went for Finn. I didn’t return her during the war because I didn’t know if there would be anything left for her to come back to. I had planned to return her to my family at the meeting in Arovan, but things went poorly. If I give her back now it will look as though I’m trying to buy their fealty with my sister’s soul. I won’t do that,” Valor explained.

“Do you have any good news, Valor?” Neph snapped as he returned to his seat and set the glasses and bottle between them. This wasn’t the sort of thing he was adept at dealing with. This was something for someone with more finesse than he possessed. Someone rational and compassionate, like Jala. They obviously couldn’t talk with her about it right now, though.

“Yes, actually,” Valor said in a cynical voice. He reached for the bottle and twisted the cork free before glancing up at Neph once more.

“This is Arovan wine, so it’s actually worth drinking,” he informed him as he poured them both a full glass.





*





“I can’t believe you joined him in drinking. You know Valor has an issue with it. Really, Neph, I expected better,” Jala’s voice was laced with anger as she stalked through the hall in front of him. Her back was rigid and her hands kept flexing into fists at her sides as if she wanted to punch him.

Neph had to fight back a laugh at the thought of it. The mental image of tiny little Jala punching someone was too much for his wine sodden brain. Perhaps if they had stopped with the first bottle he could have kept the stupid grin off his face right now, but with three bottles drained it was all but impossible. He had never really found interest in drinking to excess, but he had to admit Valor was onto something. After the first bottle, things had seemed bad, but not horrible. After the second, things were looking up, and by the time they had finished the third he really didn’t care if they were good or bad.

“Would you please stop giggling, Neph? God damn it, I have enough on my plate to deal with. I don’t need the added burden of Valor’s drinking and I truly didn’t need you drunk,” Jala railed as she whirled on him.

Neph did his best to wipe the grin off his face, but by her expression it wasn’t good enough. “So sorry,” he mumbled as he raised a hand to his face and tried desperately to wipe the grin off. By her expression, it still wasn’t working. Her violet eyes were stormy and her glare was getting more intense. “I was against the drinking right up until he told me about his dead sister money and Micah boffing a Blight. Wine sounded good then,” he slurred. The room began to spin around him and he fell back against a wall to brace himself. To his amazement, Jala didn’t seem the slightest bit alarmed. He gazed toward the window intently trying to remember what sort of spell one used to spin a house. It had to be an attack.

“Neph, let go of the magic you are drawing or I will knock you out,” Jala warned.

He turned back to her to explain why he had called on his power, but lost track of his words as he noticed the candlestick gripped in her hand. He fought back a snort of laughter as he stared at her make-shift weapon. He wasn’t even sure when she had picked it up. “Sorry,” Neph choked through his muffled laughter and she glared at him even more fiercely.