“You are making the same mistake as your son did and underestimating an opponent,” Jala countered, the expression on her face unwavering.
Kithvaryn watched her in silence for a long moment and then slowly smiled. Nodding his head ever so slightly he let out a soft chuckle. “That remains to be seen, but I admire your resolve. I’ll tell you what, Lady Merrodin. I’ll offer you this. Your companions may join us in my parlor, but if they make a single sound or movement that offends me I will have them killed. Or they can wait in the cells and make all of the fuss they like and be perfectly safe from harm. Which do you prefer?”
“That they wait with me,” Jala replied without hesitation.
Kithvaryn chuckled again and glanced aside at Valor who stood rigid before the approaching men, his expression as stormy as the weather. “Then his blood is on your hands, Lady.”
Jala nodded her agreement and turned her head to meet Valor’s eyes. Their gazes locked for a long moment as she could see the same resolve in his eyes. If this went poorly, both of their blood would spill. She would fight to the last breath before she allowed herself or her companions to be sold or imprisoned. Smiling faintly, she bowed her head to Valor. Thank you, Valor. I know you are still mad at me and I know I got us all into this mess, and yet you still stand beside me to the last. She whispered the words in his mind through the most subtle link she could form.
Always, Valor’s response was just as faint but filled with the same promise it always held when he spoke that word to her.
A firm hand gripped her upper arm tightly and Jala turned to glance at Kithkara’s face as the older woman led her toward double doors in the back of the hall. “You are either insane or a complete fool,” Kithkara hissed, her anger still apparent in her voice.
“Neither, actually. Reckless perhaps. Confident certainly, but mainly it is simple tenacity. I don’t back down and I don’t give up. You might have won, Kithkara, from sheer numbers, but I would have given you enough fight that you would never forget facing me no matter how long you lived,” Jala replied in a soft voice.
“An overconfident fool,” Kithkara muttered sourly and Jala simply smiled in response.
Chapter 20
Merro
Emily crouched on the edge of the roof and stared hard at the surrounding area. Ravens filled the town, clustered on every roof and in every tree as thick as flies in summer. The noise from the creatures was hideous and almost overwhelming enough for her to retreat back inside. Her eyes moved from creature to creature as she tried to determine exactly what the birds were doing. They didn’t seem to be interested in food or showing any interest in the city beyond the perches they sat upon. It had been like this since the sun had risen and the commoners of the town were beginning to mutter about ill luck.
“I say we use the damned things as archery practice,” a passing knight muttered as they rode by the roof Emily perched upon.
“Ill luck to shoot a raven,” his companion returned in a voice that quavered slightly. Raising a gauntleted hand to his chest he made a quick warding gesture as they continued down the road.
Emily shook her head at the gesture and returned her attention to the birds. It might have been interesting to see what happened if the animals were attacked. Her instincts told her the creatures weren’t entirely natural and who knew what would happen if they were attacked.
A soft whimper from below her perch drew her attention and she edged toward the sound and leaned down toward the open window. The noise from the birds was so loud that she nearly missed the cry. A second whimper followed and Emily frowned. It was Legacy crying, probably hungry again. The child always seemed to be hungry, especially in Jala’s absence. Another louder wail rose from the window and Emily dropped soundlessly to the sill to peer inside.
The crying wasn’t unusual. Legacy was miserable without his mother nearby. The unusual part was the fact that Wisp wasn’t in the room yet. The Fae was seldom far from the child and usually responded with the first whimper. Silently Emily slid through the open window and looked down into the crib at the fussing baby. Her gaze moved from the crib to the door that was still closed tightly. It was possible that Wisp hadn’t heard the noise through the racket the birds were making. Moving slowly, Emily advanced on the door, her head cocked toward the outer hall, listening closely for any noise that spoke of trouble.
Legacy wailed again and Emily glanced back at the crib with indecision filling her mind. She didn’t want to actually touch the child. She had refrained from even getting too close to him since he had been born. It wasn’t that she disliked him. It was the simple fact that she didn’t trust herself by him. He was so small and fragile, and the Blight instincts seemed so much sharper when Marrow was away. Yet she didn’t want to leave him alone either, especially when he was upset. She could relate with his feelings completely. It was horrible to be left behind.