“The backlash hit everyone but you, Lady,” Ash said quietly. “I felt the Dark Lady’s hand, as did everyone else here, but you.”
“He was answering. I heard him speak,” Jala said softly and rubbed her face. Everyone was watching her as she lowered her hand. She turned slowly, regarding the varied expressions on their faces and then looked back to Ash. “You heard him, didn’t you?” she asked.
“I felt his spirit, but I heard nothing,” Ash said and stood. “That does not mean he didn’t speak, Lady. That only means he did not speak to me,” he added as he noticed the doubt forming on her face.
“Why would she do that?” Jala asked.
“I told you she had special interest in him,” Ash reminded her gently. “She wishes to keep that one, Lady, and there is not much more we can do to fight her on it.”
She nodded slowly and looked away, her eyes falling on the stout trunk of the Jimpa tree. The same despair she had felt so long ago was washing over her and she could almost taste the ashes in her mouth again. She felt a gentle push against her side and looked down to see Marrow staring up at her with bright yellow eyes filled with concern.
You didn’t give up then, he reminded her.
No I didn’t, she replied softly as the memory of that day returned. I sat down right here believing I was in the Darklands and I waited for my father to come and get me. Wiping her face with her hand again she nodded and cast another storing spell on the body. “I’m going after him,” she said quietly gripping the storage stone in her hand.
“You are what?” Neph asked sounding incredulous.
“I’m going to get Finn,” she said firmly, turning her gaze to Neph’s. She locked eyes with him and dared him to object.
“I feel the need to ask a rather stupid question here, but are you bloody insane?” Neph said, shaking his head in disbelief. “The nice Soulreaver just told you that Death wants to keep him. So you decide you are going to stroll into the Darklands and ask to have him back?”
“I didn’t say anything about asking. He swore his soul to me twice. He is mine,” Jala replied, her confidence growing with every word.
“Jala, you can’t do this,” a man’s voice broke in. She rounded at the familiar tones and glared at Fortune as he stepped forward from the shadows. He held up both hands in a peaceful gesture and shook his head at her sadly. “Jala, you can’t go. You have too many that need you here.”
“How dare you tell me what I can and cannot do now,” Jala snarled. “You are as much to blame for his death as Hemlock is. How could you do that to him?” she demanded.
“OK, I’m confused. Who the hell is that?” Neph muttered, throwing his hands up and walking back to stand by Jail.
“That would be Fortune, the Aspect of Luck,” Jail whispered behind her.
“Wonderful. Well if a god can’t convince her she is being a loony, no one can,” Neph replied.
“Would you two shut up!” Valor snapped.
“Jala, I regret his death, but there was nothing I could do for him. He was not a follower of mine. I have protected you but …”
“Protected me?” Jala cut in, her earlier anger returning afresh. “Is that what you call it?”
“You have survived what would have killed any other without so much as a scratch on you. Yes, I call it protection,” Fortune replied with a bit of anger in his own voice.
“Is that all you believe important, Fortune? I have survived and watched everything I love, die. I watched my parents die, my land destroyed, and now my husband has died in my fucking arms while I begged you for help. And you think I should be grateful that I don’t have a scratch? Death would be a mercy compared to the wounds I have.” She screamed the words with tears streaming down her face. “Even the temple I was raised in is gone, Fortune. By the pattern of my life I’m terrified to have this child I carry. I don’t want to watch it die before me like everything else does!”
“Jala, please calm down. I have done everything I can for you. I know you have suffered loss but I’m not all powerful, Jala. When other Aspects or the Divine work against me it takes everything I have to keep you safe. If you go into the Darklands, I am powerless to help you,” Fortune said, his expression filled with misery. “There are too many depending on you, for you to do something so selfish now. Goswin needs you, the Fionaveir need you, and Merro needs you. This is all too fragile to risk losing now.”
“Selfish? You think me wanting Finn back is selfish? Perhaps it is, in part, but I see it more as righting the wrong you did him. You sacrificed him and I won’t let it stand. If you hadn’t forced him to love me he wouldn’t be dead now, you bastard,” she growled, her anger like a living thing inside her. “As far as your protection, spare me the pain. I want none of it. I renounce you,” she ripped the silver chain from her neck as she spoke and cast the holy symbol down at his feet.
Fortune paled and stepped back from the fallen necklace shaking his head. “Jala, don’t do this. You have no idea what I have held at bay. Take your words back so I can keep you safe,” he pleaded.
She glared at him defiantly and pulled the ruby hilted dagger from her belt. With a calmness she didn’t feel she pulled down the front of her ragged dress and pulled the knife across the scar on her chest. The silver blade sliced cleanly sending sharp pain through her as the burned symbol of Fortune was cut away. “I renounce you,” she repeated in a cold voice. She lowered the knife slowly and tossed the piece of skin down beside the holy symbol. Turning her back on him, she walked quickly back toward the camp with Marrow close behind her.
“Jala, wait!” Valor called from behind her. She could hear him running after her, but refused to slow her steps. “Jala, wait!” he called again louder.