The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)(79)

“She won’t leave Arovan to rot and you know it,” Neph said with a sigh. He rubbed his jaw as he stared down at the food he no longer had an appetite for. When you combined Valor’s reports with the information he had given Jala about Delvay it was grim news all the way around. An optimist might see a way through all of the ill tidings, but Neph had never been optimistic. As far as he could see it, Sanctuary was going straight to hell faster than anyone could stop it. “Where is Jala now?” Neph asked after a long moment. She would need to be informed of the reports, of course, but if he was with Jala there was a chance he could talk some sense into her. There was only so much Merro could offer the rest of the world, and he knew Jala would offer more than she should. It was in her nature to help others, even when it meant risking herself.

“Ahh. That’s the other wonderful part of the day,” Valor sighed. His gaze dropped back down to Neph’s face and he smiled bitterly. “She is working with Zoelyn and the Blight. Have you had a chance to see the Blight yet? I just did for the first time. Jala has finally managed to convince him to show himself to others.”

Neph shook his head slowly and raised an eyebrow at Valor. “I haven’t, but what does it matter?” Valor’s sighed heavily and glanced toward the cabinet with a look of longing on his face.

“Kind of early to start drinking, Val. Why don’t you just keep talking instead,” Neph suggested dryly. He had thought Valor was past his drinking issues. At the Academy, the knight had been drunk more often than sober, but he believed Jala had cured that. From the look on Valor’s face now, though, it was obvious she hadn’t.

“Wine is a hell of a lot better company than you,” Valor grumbled, but didn’t move from his chair. “Jala told me on the day we learned about the Blight that he had Arovan blood,” Valor began quietly once he realized Neph was still waiting for an answer. He tapped his finger on the table and frowned. “I thought she meant he was from the people of Arovan. I didn’t realize she literally meant House Arovan’s blood. She did, though. I figured that out when I saw him for the first time this morning. The creature is a spitting image of Micah. I nearly called him Micah at first glance. I thought somehow Jala had managed to bring him back from the dead until the Blight looked at me. The eyes are the only difference until you notice the fangs,” Valor explained in a hushed voice.

Neph stared at Valor for a long moment, not realizing that his jaw had dropped open. Closing his mouth quickly, he shook his head at Valor in disbelief. “It can’t be,” he objected, shaking his head once more. “Micah was fighting the bloody Blights. There is no way he took time from his crusade to bed one of them.”

“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.