The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)(27)

“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.

Pulling lightly on his magic he summoned a spark of flame and lit the tiny candles lining the altar one by one, whispering the names of the Divine as he did so. Just because they hadn’t given him a sign, didn’t mean they weren’t listening. He had to keep faith. The Aspects were about the only thing he had left to turn to for solace. Bowing his head he closed his eyes and began his nightly prayers. His body relaxed with the routine and his anger slowly faded. There was a certain peace to the ritual that couldn’t be replaced by anything else.

“What are you praying for Neph?” The voice was barely loud enough to be heard, but just the sound of it nearly stopped his heart. Jala was dead. He had seen her body and yet it was her voice. There was no mistaking it. If this was a trick, someone was about to die horribly.

“A lot of things. My loudest prayer was possibly just answered, though,” Neph answered cautiously. He didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to see that it wasn’t truly her. Had he snapped? Was he only imagining her voice? He didn’t feel insane, but then he was relatively sure no one insane ever truly realized they were.

“Possibly? You aren’t sure it was?” Jala asked her voice still near a whisper.

“You are dead,” Neph pointed out bluntly.

“Mmmm, I kind of was for a bit,” Jala mused, her voice a bit louder. The soft scuff of footsteps sounded behind him followed by the squeaking of the springs on his bed as someone sat down. “I suppose I bit off a tad more than I could chew and well, lesson learned,” s he sighed heavily.

“You bit off more than a dozen dragons could chew, Jala,” Neph snapped, his eyes flashing open at last. He had to see her. He had to know if it was truly her. She sat on the foot of the bed watching him, her violet eyes sparkling in the dim light. She was dressed in a gown of dark purple silk, cut dangerously low in the front and split on the sides to reveal her legs. Silver sandals laced up her calves and jewels covered her wrists and fingers. Her hair had been braided into intricate patterns and a net of silver chains held it in place. His eyes lingered on her face and the web work of purple tattoos that began above her right eye and traced a delicate path down to her cheek.

Jala smiled at the direction of his gaze and raised a hand to touch the marks. “It’s a new addition. I hope it is artistic enough to hide its true purpose,” Her hand dropped back to her lap and she gazed around his small room. “Do you remember when I was wounded by the Blight in Avanti? It was because I couldn’t get my glasses on fast enough. I probably should have been wearing them the entire time, but the tunnel was so dark it wasn’t practical,” she shrugged and motioned at the tattoo once more. “No glasses required now.”

“Just because you know some of Jala’s life does not prove you are Jala,” Neph pointed out in a neutral voice. His heart was thudding so painfully in his chest that he was sure she must be able to hear it. He wanted so desperately for her to prove it truly was her, and yet he feared to press the issue. If this was a hoax. If she couldn’t prove it… He let the thought fade in his mind. He didn’t want to think of it not truly being her. “Valor warned me that you wouldn’t believe. I came prepared, though. I suppose I should cut myself and show you gold blood, but then you would likely say that could be faked too. So turn on your mage sight and watch my magic reserves, Neph. I don’t want you to accuse me of faking this, so tell me when you have done so,” Jala smiled as she spoke and the sight nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Neph wasn’t sure exactly what she was planning, but he couldn’t see any harm in what she asked. Pulling on his magic once more he cast the spell and nodded to her. “Ready,” he said quietly, his gaze never leaving her even for a breath. In truth, he was fighting back the urge to even blink in fear that she would be gone again when he opened his eyes once more.

Casually, Jala lifted her hands before her and summoned mage stone after mage stone more quickly than he thought possible. She dropped them on the floor before her one by one until a small pile formed by her feet. Her reserves were slowly draining as she created the stones, but not nearly as fast as they should have been, given the amount of stones she had created. His eyes widened slightly as he realized exactly how much power the woman before him must possess to fill so many stones with so little effect. She gave a wistful sigh and continued to drop the stones until the pile of gems spilled over onto one of her feet. Pausing she met his eyes once more. “Is it obvious that my power is drained down a bit now?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Neph nodded slowly, his gaze moving to the mage stones and back to her. “Jala did not have larger reserves of magic than me,” Neph began slowly.