Valor nodded and let out a long breath. “Then we know where we stand. We should get back to the others. I’m not sure who we can find that is capable of returning Finn’s soul to his body, but Neph will know.” He started forward in the direction Emily had indicated.
“Valor,” Jala said quietly, and the knight paused and looked back to her. “Can you still call me friend? He was like a brother to you and I as much as traded his life for this,” she motioned a hand at the land but kept her eyes on him, searching for any signs of anger.
“You traded nothing, Jala. If Finn knew everything as you said he did, then he made the bargain. He could have walked away at any time and he didn’t.” Reaching up, Valor plucked another leaf from the tree and offered it to her. She accepted it and looked down at it thoughtfully. “This isn’t what you bought with his life, Jala. This is his gift to you. He gave his life freely. Don’t let Kali’s words make you believe differently. It dishonors his sacrifice,” he said with a faint smile and started walking again.
“Thank you, Valor,” she whispered and fell into step behind him. His words had lifted the growing guilt from her and hardened her resolve. Finn had given everything to give her back her home. How could she do less to give him back life.
*
Wisp was the first to break from the camp as they approached. With a sob she embraced Jala tightly. “I’m so sorry, Jala,” she whispered and squeezed harder. Backing away, the Fae wiped tears from her eyes. From the redness of her eyes, Wisp had been crying for a while, Jala realized. “Neph told us everything when he arrived. We were so worried about you,” Wisp continued and wiped at her eyes once more, sniffling as she did so.
“We are fine. We helped with the fighting a bit. The Fionaveir hold the city now,” Jala said quietly and allowed Wisp to lead her into the camp. I should be crying like she is, Jala thought numbly, but she was curiously devoid of all feelings. There wasn’t even a trace of anger. She just felt empty and tired.
“Someone arrived here for you not long after Sovann and I began rebuilding the land. He is waiting at another camp, though. I didn’t want him near Valor,” Wisp said, her voice hushed and her eyes on the knight as he approached the fire and gently laid Devony down in the grass beside it.
“Who?” Jala asked in confusion, wondering who they would have to hide from Valor.
“He says his name is Ash. He is from Seravae, Jala, and you know how the Soulreavers and Arovan get along,” Wisp said with a strong note of warning in her voice.
“Actually, no, I don’t, but I’ll hazard a guess and say it isn’t well,” Jala said, her eyes already searching the other camps for any sign of the Soulreaver. If anyone knew about returning the dead to life it would be Ash. “Can you take me to him now, Wisp?” Jala asked, feeling her hope rising. With a confused look and a quick nod Wisp turned their path toward the northern camps and walked quietly with her.
They had barely passed three other fires before Jala spotted Ash. His pale features and white clothing stood out starkly against the bright green of the grass. He rose as they approached the fire and bowed to her with a faint smile.
“You look a bit worse for wear, Milady. Would you rather rest before we speak?” Ash said as he stood slowly.
Jala flushed and looked down at her ragged dress and shook her head slightly. “A lot of fighting. I need to speak with you now, though, if you don’t mind.”
“This is your land, High Lady Merrodin. My time is yours while I am here,” he replied.
Wisp stepped back a pace and gave Jala a questioning look. “Should I stay?” she asked hesitantly.
“Please do,” Jala replied and motioned for Ash to sit back down before lowering herself to the grass. “My husband died in the reclaiming of the city. I’m not sure if you had heard yet,” Jala began and Ash nodded slowly.
“The dead spoke to me of his passing,” he replied with another bow of his head. “I grieve for your loss Lady.”
She heard Wisp give another choked sob and reached over to take the Fae’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t wish to accept this loss, Ash. I have his body. What do I need to do to bring him back? I’ve seen others that were killed returned to life. How do I bring my husband back?”
Wisp squeezed her hand tightly. “Oh, Jala, I thought you were in shock when you weren’t crying. You aren’t grieving because you haven’t given up!” Wisp exclaimed and gave her another quick hug. She looked to Ash with hope lighting her bright green eyes. “Do you know how to bring him back?” she asked.
Ash regarded them both quietly and folded his hands in his lap, lacing the fingers together. He nodded slowly but Jala could see hesitation written clearly on his face. “I do know how to call a soul back to the body,” he began, but paused again, seeming to consider his next words carefully. “I do not know if his soul can be called back, however,” he said with hesitation.
“Why couldn’t it be?” Jala asked, wondering if Hemlock had used a soulblade in the attack. If he had she would need to retrieve the blade quickly before he had time to destroy the trapped soul within it.
“The dead whisper about many things, Jala, and they whispered a lot when he passed. The Dark Lady has a special interest in that one. I’m not sure she will release him.” Ash spoke the words in a voice barely above a whisper and then made a warding sign over his chest. “To speak of her is ill luck,” he explained as he lowered his hand back to his lap.
“Will you try to call him back?” Jala asked. The last threads of hope were barely holding her grief at bay