Moving slowly, Kithkara began to walk toward Valor. The sound of her boot heels echoed through the silent hall. “Do you know what they call the armies of Kithvaryn, little boy?” she asked softly.
In for a copper, in for a gold. Jala smiled as Finn’s words surfaced from her memories. In this situation, Finn would fight no matter the odds, and there was no way she would let Valor stand alone in any fight. As long as she still drew breath she would fight beside him.
Drawing quickly on her power, Jala sent a violent shock into the man still holding her. It was not enough to kill the man, simply stun him. She felt him spasm and fall back away from her. Her balance wavered as he released her and she barely managed to keep her footing as she quickly cast a spell to cut the bonds that held her.
“Corpses, if we continue here,” Jala answered as Kithkara whirled once more to face her at the sound of her captor’s fall. Flexing her wrists, Jala watched the shredded remains of rope fall from her wrists and straightened her shoulders as she met the other woman’s eyes fully. “I’m here to speak with Kithvaryn, but if you’d rather this become bloody then by all means, Commander, draw your blade,” Jala hissed holding both hands out in invitation.
“Well this explains why Finn loved you. You are apparently every bit as brash and bold as he was,” Hexian sighed as he stepped back several feet.
“We are called the Ten Thousand Immortals,” Kithkara continued, though she had stopped her advance toward Valor. Her gaze flicked between the two of them with an expression that suggested they were both foolish children.
“Long name. I’m not impressed,” Jala replied a faint smile curving her own lips. Let the woman consider them children, underestimating the damage she and Valor could create was a huge mistake. Death herself could attest to that.
“There are no half-bloods or commoners among us. Every man and woman on this island is pureblood immortal. To attack us at the odds you now have is suicide,” Kithkara snarled.
“I miss Finn. I can’t say that I would mind seeing him again and I’d rather die fighting than under your knife in torture. That is, if we lose, of course. Valor and I have faced Death herself and lived and somehow I don’t think you are quite as impressive as a Divine Commander,” Jala returned the smile widening on her lips. Tilting her head back she licked her lips and let her eyes rove across the room then back to Kithkara. Soft laughter bubbled from Jala’s lips and she waved her hands once more in invitation. “Just draw the blade,” she pressed the words sounding so much like Finn’s that her smile widened further.
“Please,” Valor added as a soft breeze began to build around him. “I have a lot of angst I’d love to release on someone.” Jala could see how tense he was even at the distance he stood from her, though it wasn’t with fear. It was pure anticipation. Every muscle in his body was coiled and begging for release.
“Enough!” The single word cut through the room like a knife and all eyes moved toward the speaker who stood framed in the doorway. Lightning flashed in the sky behind the man as he stepped fully into the room, the massive wooden doors crashing closed behind him. “Back to your duties all of you,” the man snapped and the crowd surrounding them scattered like quail before a hound, aside for a scant few that were brave enough to linger.
“General Kithvaryn,” Jala said with a slight bow of her head. The man was slight and smaller than most in the room. His dark hair was cut short and his clothing was plain and functional. There was, however, no mistaking who he was despite his appearance. While Kithvaryn’s appearance might not be intimidating, his reputation was. This was not a man to bully or bluff and he well deserved the show of respect. In every book at the Academy that mentioned him, Kithvaryn was described as a genius and a brilliant leader. If the text was to be believed, this man had never lost a single battle.
“Lady Merrodin,” Kithvaryn replied, though without the nod of respect and in a much colder voice.
What did I really expect here, tea and crumpets? I should have known I would share the blame for his son’s death and approached with more caution. Jala scolded herself silently and waited for him to continue.
“We will speak, Lady Merrodin, and if I do not like what you say, you will regret coming to this island. I sent no one after your husband despite my son’s death. I was content to allow you to live in peace as long as you kept your distance. Kithkanon was rash and overconfident and while his death was painful to me, it was no true surprise. Your presence here, however, is a surprise, and not a pleasant one.” Kithvaryn’s voice was low and the look in his eyes spoke volumes of his sincerity. “Escort the Lady to my parlor, Kara,” he ordered, then slowly turned to regard Valor. “Have those two thrown in cells.” He paused a moment as the remaining men in the room moved to follow his orders. “Barllen cells,” he added thoughtfully before turning to face Hexian. “I regret our talks will have to wait Lord Hexian. I hope you understand.”
“Of course. I would very much like you to resolve this difficulty first, actually. If the Lady’s words aren’t pleasing to you, Rivana would be very interested in making a deal,” Hexian replied with a smile.
“I will not have my companions imprisoned,” Jala broke in before Kithkara could move her a single step. “I would rather speak than fight General, but I will not have my friends mistreated,” Jala warned and wondered if she had truly gone insane as the expression on every face in the room indicated.
“You are in no position to make demands, Lady Merrodin,” Kithvaryn warned.