The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)(28)
“I do now, sweetie, so deal with it,” Jala chirped in a tone that sounded far too smug. Lightly she kicked one of the stones toward him and smiled again. “Go on, test it, you cranky skeptic. I don’t want you to have any excuse to say I didn’t pass the identity test. I want your trust back and I swear if I have to fight a constant battle with you to prove who I am, I will smack you upside the head.”
Neph smiled at the words and lifted the stone. Magic brimmed inside it and there was no denying that it was a true mage stone. “You certainly sound like Jala, and yes, this is a legitimate stone.” He set the stone back down on the pile and gave her a questioning look.
“Ahh, I love that expression on your face. It’s the what now look. Well here is what now Neph,” Jala said and reached behind her on the bed. Carefully she lifted her staff from behind her and held it out for Neph to see. The metal was melted and the stones had cracked from heat, but it was Jala’s staff, of that he was certain.
“I haven’t seen that since the night you sent me from Arovan,” Neph whispered his eyes locked on the weapon.
“Valor found it by my body and kept it safe for me. He was afraid they would try to bury it with my body,” Jala explained and then paused cocking her head at him. “He took me to see my grave in Arovan earlier. Do you have any idea how strange it is to stand on your own grave, Neph? No, I suppose you wouldn’t, but let me just say it is not a happy feeling.” She shook her head and shrugged again before offering the staff to him. “It doesn’t turn anymore as it was intended to, given that it’s half melted but the Barllen is still there and functioning. Go ahead, Neph, take it and examine it. As I said, I don’t want there to be a shred of doubt in that thick skull of yours.”
Neph smiled again and took the staff, his eyes scanning the familiar runes and stones lining it. It had been a thing of beauty when Valor gave it to Jala, and even now in its damaged state it was still impressive. Slowly he ran a finger up the side of the staff until he felt the bite of Barllen draining his magic. “It is exactly what it appears to be. This is Jala’s staff,” he said firmly as he handed it back to her.
“Still have your mage sight on?” Jala asked and waited for him to nod. “All right then, watch closely,” she ordered and placed her hands firmly on the Barllen part of the staff.
Her eyes narrowed as she focused and Neph watched with held breath as her reserves filled once more. All doubt vanished from his mind at the sight and he was on his feet before he realized it. Only Jala could draw power from Barllen. It was the proof that he was so desperately craving. Within a breath he had her lifted from the bed and wrapped tightly in an embrace.
“Breaking ribs,” Jala gasped, though the tone of her voice was amused.
“Don’t you dare ever do anything that stupid again, Jala. I thought you were gone forever,” Neph whispered as he loosened his grip and rested his chin on the top of her head. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” His voice had grown thick as he struggled to fight back the tears threatening to pour down his face.
“I have a better idea than most would, Neph,” Jala answered quietly as she rested her head against his chest. “I swear by the Divine that I will never again risk myself so carelessly. I promise you I will do everything in my power to live as long as I possibly can. I have so much in my life that I never want to lose again.”
Stepping back from the embrace, Neph looked her up and down and shook his head at her with a smile. “You went through an awful lot of trouble to get rid of scars, Jala. You know most women would have just used magic to hide the blemishes, but not you. You had to create an entirely new body you damned egomaniac.”
“Well, you know,” Jala replied with sarcasm thick in her voice and smiled at him. Taking his hands in her own, she looked down and studied the two rings he wore. On his left hand was the signet of Merrodin and on his right he now wore the signet of Delvay. She ran her thumb lightly across the scarred metal of the Merrodin ring and pushed at it gently forcing it up on his finger a bit. “Good. You haven’t taken it off and the callous proves that,” she murmured then lifted her eyes to meet his once more. “Get dressed in something pretty, Neph. I want to take you out and show you off,” she ordered flippantly with another grin.
“You have Valor to use as eye candy,” Neph returned dryly.
“And Valor is waiting outside for us. Hurry up. I’m not kidding. Get dressed nicely, Lord Delvayon, we have a party to crash. ” Jala prodded him gently with her hand and turned for the door. “I’ll wait outside your room,” she informed him as she hefted her staff in one hand and pulled the door open.
“Jala are you going to explain what is going on?” Neph grumbled as she started to close the door behind her.
Glancing back, Jala gave him an impish grin and shook her head lightly. “No,” she chirped and pulled the door shut behind her.
Neph let out a deep sigh of irritation, but couldn’t quite manage to keep the grin off his face. Everything had been spiraling out of his grasp, and then, with just the sound of her voice and the sight of her, it was all fixed. Jala Merrodin had returned and no matter how dire the situation looked, he would face it head on and without doubt. When Jala was involved, any miracle was possible, even saving Delvay.
It took him less than five minutes to dress, though Neph doubted she would approve of what he had chosen. He wasn’t like Finn had been, or Valor was. He didn’t own silks or velvet. For him, dressing nicely meant putting on the leather armor that had the least amount of scars and no dried blood on it. Pausing at the mirror he studied his reflection and smoothed his short blond hair a bit. His eyes lingered on his face and he shook his head slowly at the wide smile that still showed. It wasn’t an expression he was accustomed to wearing, and he would have to get rid of it before Shade or Madren saw him. The last thing he wanted was for Madren to lose his fear of him.