The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)(30)



“Can you do that anywhere?” Neph whispered turning to face Vaze with a raised eyebrow. “I mean just walk right into the middle of anyone’s house?” Neph clarified quickly.

Vaze shrugged and nodded slowly with a faint smile on his face. “For the most part. No one bothers to ward against Shadow magic anymore,” Vaze replied smugly.

“I will,” Neph promised and turned back to Jala shaking his head in disbelief.

“No, you won’t. Vaze is our ally,” Jala corrected as she handed Legacy over to Valor and squared her shoulders a bit. Carefully she propped her staff in the crook of her arm and shook her arms lightly as if loosening up for a fight. Glancing up at Neph she smiled widely. “You are going to love this. I’ve been working on it for days. I call it awe inspiring Sorceress.”

“You really need your hair down for the proper effect,” Valor cut in and Jala frowned and looked at him, her hand going up to touch her carefully braided hair. “Oh please don’t look so wounded. It’s not as if that took a lot of effort to do. I was standing right beside you when you fixed your hair and it took all of thirty seconds and a bit of magic to do that,” Valor’s voice trailed off as he noticed her darkening expression and narrowing eyes. “That beautiful creation to your hair. Honestly, anyone who looked at you would think you spent hours on your hair. Maybe you should just leave it up,” Valor hastily amended.

“So the first two husbands are dead and you neutered the third. If anything happens to Valor there won’t be a line of suitors waiting at your door. I can promise you that,” Shade observed casually.

“Are we really going to just stand here in the hall waiting for a guard patrol while we discuss Jala’s hair?” Madren asked, looking at them all in disbelief.

“He has a point,” Vaze chimed in with a smirk.

“You never know the guards may have a very good opinion on the topic,” Shade offered with a shrug.

Fighting back a snort of laughter Jala shook her head at Shade and flipped her hand casually towards her hair. The magic that bound it in place fell away and her wine red hair cascaded down over her shoulders. “I love you all so much,” she whispered as she took her staff in hand once more and squared her shoulders. Pausing, she cleared her throat and wiped the last remains of a smile from her face as she regarded the doors.

Wind rose behind her as she lifted one hand and pulled on her magic to open the locks that held them in place.

“Really? You are summoning wind for this?” Neph scoffed, looking at Valor who was motioning lightly with one hand toward Jala while carefully balancing Legacy on his hip.

Valor glanced at him and shrugged one shoulder. “It adds to her entrance, Neph,” he explained with a smirk.

Startled oaths rose from within the room as Jala stepped through the door. Moving up behind her, Neph paused in the doorway for a better view. All of the High Lords were assembled around a massive table in the center of the room, and each and every one of them bore an expression of pure shock on their face at the sight of her. Aside from the Lord of Oblivion, Neph noticed with interest. Zachary Dark simply sat in his chair watching her with what almost looked like amusement on his normally expressionless face.

“Did you forget to invite a few people, boys?” Jala asked casually, the wind still stirring her hair as she stopped just beyond the table. She stood with her legs slightly parted and her staff held in front of her as if she was prepared to battle all before her.

“Jala Merrodin is dead and this is a closed meeting. Whoever you are, you have made a wretched mistake with this display,” Lord Faydwer snarled as he started to rise from his chair. Lord Blackwolf and Arjuna were rising as well with matching looks of fury on their faces.

“I figured someone would say something like that,” Jala sighed, her tone far from concerned. “Allow me to set your fears at ease,” she purred and the room darkened as she drew on her magic. Shadows writhed across the floor in front of her and Neph turned to raise an eyebrow at Vaze who was silently wiggling a finger in Jala’s direction. The wind rose once more, stirring her hair as she pointed a slender finger to the floor in front of her. A faint purple glow began to show in the cracks of the marble below her and half of the High Lords lurched from their chairs looking more than ready to fight. “Seth, King of Crows, Herald of Death I summon thee!” Jala’s voice cracked through the room. Even from where he stood Neph could feel the power emanating from her. He had to admit it was an impressive display, awe inspiring sorceress indeed.

The ground before her trembled and the shadows danced wildly as a flock of spectral ravens burst through the marble at her feet. The birds swirled, darkening the air before her as they spiraled upward toward the ceiling. When the air before her cleared, Seth was crouched on the floor, his raven feathered cloak pulled tightly around him. He stood slowly, moving with the grace of a natural hunter and the expression on his face was grim.

Delighted laughter and clapping filled the room and all eyes turned to stare stupidly at Legacy who was grinning from ear to ear. “Yay!” he exclaimed loudly, looking up at Valor and then back to his mother with an expression of utter joy on his small face as he clapped once more. “Hi!” he called loudly, his childish voice almost comical as he waved at Seth with enthusiasm.

Neph stared in disbelief at the child and then looked to Jala who had turned back to stare at her son with wide eyes. Her expression was still serious, but Neph could tell by the light in her eyes it was taking all of her willpower to keep from bursting into laughter.

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