The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)(17)
“You aren’t praying, Neph,” Valor whispered, and the sound of his voice pulled Neph back from the darkness his mind had been retreating to.
“I’m not sure exactly who to pray to on this, Valor,” Neph admitted quietly.
“Pray to her, Neph. Put all of your faith in Jala,” Valor replied without hesitation.
“Val, she had the blood of the Divine, but she wasn’t a god. She can’t hear prayers as they do,” Neph informed him gently, as he slowly slid his hands down his face and stared at the lifeless body.
“Look back on everything she has done, Neph, and say that again,” Valor snapped, his head rising once more. The gleam was stronger in Valor’s eyes and Neph wondered if he truly would recover once he moved past his denial. Neph had known the man loved Jala, and was utterly devoted to her, but he had never guessed how deeply those emotions ran.
Exhaling slowly, Neph leaned forward and pulled the cloak back from Jala before Valor could stop him. Her face was as cracked as the skin on her arm had been and her beautiful violet eyes were completely burned away. The magic within her pulsed slowly, giving off faint light and Neph shook his head slowly. There was no way to soften what had to be said, and the sooner it was done the better. Both of them needed to face that fact and try to move on. Despite how much Neph wanted to give up now, he couldn’t, neither of them could. They both had responsibilities in the world beyond. “Valor, this body is broken and Jala is gone. Even a god couldn’t remain in a form this damaged. Look at her, Valor! Look at the glow of the magic, damn it. Even you can see it; I know you can!” Neph snapped, his words breaking on the last word as his throat tightened. “You have to let her go and so do I, damn it. This does no good for either of us,” The last words came out more of a sob than anything else, and Neph let his arm fall back to his lap heavily as tears coursed down his face.
“Marrow still lives!” Valor snarled, his hand flying up to point at the shadow of the Bendazzi through the tent. “If Jala was truly dead, her Familiar would be dead! You are supposed to be the one that believes so strongly in the gods, Neph. Why is it so hard for you to have faith in her?” he demanded.
“Because she wasn’t a god, Valor. She was my friend, she was our leader, and she was truly a Dasharran, but she wasn’t a god. Valor, she channeled enough magic to kill anyone. That much raw power would have destroyed her soul as much as her body. Please let her go,” Neph pleaded. He wasn’t even sure why he was wasting so much energy on the knight. Valor had never been a close friend of his, but he had meant so much to Jala. Perhaps in some twisted fashion he believed that saving Valor would be a last service to her. Perhaps if he could just save Valor, it would somehow redeem him for failing her.
“I can’t. If I let her go, then I have nothing left. They took my family. They destroyed my home. If I give up on Jala, I have nothing left. It doesn’t end like this, Neph. They don’t win. I won’t let them.” Valor spoke in a broken whisper and shook his head slowly in further denial.
“Merrodin is your home now, and it still stands. They didn’t win, Valor, we did. You may have lost your brother and sister in this, Valor, but you still have your parents, which is more than Legacy can say. Finn may have sired him, Valor, but you were the closest thing he had to a father. You read to him, you played with him, and you comforted him when Jala couldn’t. You say you have nothing. I say you aren’t looking hard enough. Let her go, Valor and go back to Merrodin. You are the only one that can help that child right now.” Neph let the words pour out of him in a final attempt. If the mention of Legacy didn’t pull Valor back from the brink, he truly didn’t know what would.
“If I believe Jala is dead, then they have won.” Valor spoke the words so quietly that Neph almost didn’t hear him. Slowly the knight looked down at the broken body in his arms and nodded. “You are right, though. She will need a new body. I’ve seen her create them before in Goswin. They can bury this.” His voice was faint and the words stilted as he carefully lowered Jala’s remains to the ground. He stood slowly and unsteadily and nodded down at Neph. “You are right. Legacy does need me, and I need him. He will have faith.” With those final words Valor left the tent. Neph watched him go in silence and wondered if there was anything left to the man’s sanity at all. Shaking his head slowly he gathered Jala’s remains in the cloak and stood. They would want to give her a hero’s burial, and the sooner that was done the sooner he could leave Arovan. He would stay long enough for the ceremony and to gather his wounded, but no longer. Without Jala everything would be falling apart again very soon and he needed to reclaim his homeland before it did. The Rivasans still held Delvay, and it would take all of his remaining strength to win it back.
Chapter 2
Arovan
Their horses began growing restless within a mile of the battlefield. By the time they actually reached the edge of the camp most of their party was using all of their focus to keep their animals from bolting, aside from Zoelyn. Her large bay mare was walking with interest, but not fear. Of course, this was nothing to her horse. At one time the mare had been a cavalry horse, before the Blights had come. The mare had been the sole survivor of a failed attack on the creatures, and it was only through patient nursing that the horse had survived at all. The mare had seen battlegrounds before, and the smell of blood was nothing to her. Zoelyn had not, and the smell nearly made her gag.