A wave of giddy relief washed over Jala as they stopped in front of a door at the top of the stairs and Kithkara pushed her forward. “Wait inside and touch nothing. He will deal with you when he has time,” Kithkara ordered, her voice filled with loathing.
Nodding slowly in understanding Jala pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside the dim lit room, slowly looking around. Maps covered an entire wall, detailing every nation in Sanctuary. On the opposite side of the room stood an enormous bookshelf lined with heavy leather bound volumes and assorted scrolls. Another wall held display racks lined with every type of weapon Jala had ever seen and a few she didn’t even have a name for. The last wall had a small table with two heavily cushioned chairs. A game board was set on the table and, from the scattered pieces, had recently been used. She didn’t spare time to study it however. Her attention was locked on the man seated at the table. His deep purple eyes regarded her with open amusement. Nodding slowly, Vaze stood and bowed slightly to her. The pale lamplight glinted off his dark grey hair as he moved while his black armor seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. She simply stared at him in silence as she tried to contain her emotions. She wasn’t exactly sure what she felt other than turmoil. Vaze had disappeared from Merro while she was still in her sickbed and the last memories she had of her Uncle were of his sending Finn back to hell and arguing that taking her child might be the best course of action. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what emotions she felt, but none of them were good.
“Jala,” Vaze said in simple greeting as he stood from the bow and dropped lightly back into the chair.
“What are you doing here?” Jala demanded in a low voice.
“The same as you. Attempting to negotiate a deal with the Ten Thousand, I would guess. Although I am rather surprised to see you here, considering…,” Vaze answered, his voice trailing off with the last. He studied her as he spoke and she could see questions that he wasn’t yet voicing.
Jala sighed and nodded slightly before glancing back to Valor and Sovann. Valor had managed to come through their ordeals with the storm and shipwreck and still manage to look presentable. Sovann and she on the other hand must look like bedraggled street orphans. Glancing down at herself, Jala took in the salt stained dress and her bare feet. She couldn’t even remember losing her shoes and hadn’t truly missed them until their long walk up the stone stairs.
Lamely she raised a hand to her hair and tried in vain to bring order to her wine colored curls. Her frown deepened as her hand brushed something and she pulled away a sprig of seaweed. Looking back at her companions she sighed. “Neither of you could spare a moment to tell me I had bloody seaweed in my hair?” she asked her tone one of pure exasperation.
“Hadn’t even noticed it,” Sovann muttered as he moved to a chair and dropped limply into the cushions.
“I found it rather amusing,” Valor replied easily, his gaze on her was anything but sympathetic and Jala couldn’t really blame him. She had earned his anger and she knew it. Between her private dealings with Seravae and their being held prisoner, it was a wonder he was talking with her at all.
“Fair enough,” Jala conceded and moved to kneel beside Sovann. Taking both of his hands in hers she called on the healing magic and sent the spell coursing through Sovann, finding each bruise and scrape and healing them all. A wave of dizziness washed over her as she finished and she fell back onto her butt on the carpet as the magic faded from her.
“Are you all right?” Sovann asked, his voice little more than a whisper. His eyes flicked toward Vaze who watched them with intense interest.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Jala murmured and felt a pang in her chest as she pulled her knees up against her stomach and rested her forehead against them. A day ago, Valor would have been at her side in an instant had she shown weakness. Now he stood with his back to her, examining maps on the wall with an interest she knew he didn’t truly hold.
“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Sovann asked softly, his voice filled with concern. He hadn’t missed Valor’s continued anger either. Not that anyone truly could with the storm still raging outside.
Jala slowly shook her head, not bothering to look up at Sovann. She didn’t want to see the look of hurt on his face. Really she didn’t want to see his face at all right now. It wasn’t Sovann himself. It was how much he resembled his brother. If Finn were here now, Valor wouldn’t have any reason to be angry with her and she wouldn’t be in this damned fortress to begin with. She wouldn’t be contemplating marriage with Ash. None of this would be happening if she just had Finn. Of course, she wouldn’t have an army to face Avanti either.
This does no good, Jala. You are borrowing misery that you don’t need. Lock him away for now please. Now is not the time to mourn for Finn, Marrow’s voice was faint as if he were a vast distance from her and she felt panic rise at the thought. I’m just outside the fortress, Jala. You know that. You are not alone. You are never alone, Jala.
I can’t stand his anger at me, Marrow. It’s worse than a knife in the gut. Even more so because I know I deserve it. Jala tried to keep the desperation from her voice but knew she failed. Wrapping both arms around her knees she buried her face farther into the salt stained skirts and squeezed her eyes as tightly shut as she could.
Have you ever actually had a knife in the gut? I’m fairly certain that if I were given the choice of having Valor angry with me for a while or getting stabbed in my innards I would choose the pissed off knight, Marrow shot back, his voice laced with sarcasm.