From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)

“He always wakes when I move,” Jala murmured as she watched the child in amazement. Her gaze rose to Valor’s face and her smile faded. His dark blue eyes wouldn’t meet hers and his expression was distant. Swallowing heavily, Jala nodded to him and held her arms out to take the child.

“He is fine and likely will find more rest with me. I’m sure you will have a hundred things to attend to here,” Valor said quietly and brushed past her toward the council room. She watched him go and dropped her gaze down to Marrow.

You have blinded yourself so fully with your goals that the rest of the world is nothing more than shadows to you. I hope this army is the most formidable force on the face of Sanctuary, Jala. That is about the only way it could be worth the price you have paid for it, Marrow told her as he rose from the floor and stretched. I love you, Jala, and I will always stand beside you. I will stand beside you in this, but I will be hanging my head in shame as I do, Marrow finished as he moved closer to her and braced his massive head against her leg.

Jala stared down at him for a long moment, her hand trailing across the back of his head. “I never wanted his friendship to be the price Marrow. I have followed the only path I saw available. Faydwar and Firym are infested with Blights, Arovan and Glis are on their knees and Oblivion is worse off than Merro. I had no other choices for an alliance, Marrow. Please understand that,” Jala pleaded, her eyes growing glassy.

So blind, Marrow repeated as he pushed against her leg forcing her back down the hall toward the room where her friends waited.

Jala allowed herself to be pushed and began walking slowly, her head hung as she tried to master her emotions. It wouldn’t do to walk back into that room on the verge of tears. Taking a slow breath, she shook her head at Marrow. “Sometimes there are no good choices,” she whispered as she stepped through the doorway once more.





“This is absolutely ridiculous. Women do not have Warders,” Jexon raged as he paced the small room they stood in. The High Lord had arrived only moments before and simply his presence had managed to clear most of the occupants of the room. Every assistant or servant that wasn’t absolutely necessary had fled at his approach.

Jala watched him out of the corner of her eye from her perch in the center of the room. She didn’t dare move with the seamstress already glaring at her and holding a handful of pins. No doubt the woman wasn’t used to so much commotion in her tiny chamber. It was her own fault, though. She had been the one that had sent the page rushing to find the High Lord at the first mention of Warders.

“The vows were sworn before the council,” Ash said calmly as he watched his father cross the room once more.

Jexon turned his glare, moving from Ash then onto Neph and Valor. “Women have handmaids not Warders!” he repeated nearly screaming the words.

“I do her hair and nails on the side. Valor handles the wardrobe and fashion advice, and Ash is there for girl talk,” Neph said dryly with a tight smile.

“As far as I understand, the Warders are protectors of the ruling house. Nowhere in the laws does it state that the ruling individual must be male,” Ash broke in before Jexon could continue his ranting.

“It shouldn’t have to be stated in the laws. No woman has, or ever will hold ruling power in Seravae,” Jexon raged wheeling back to face his son once more.

“It’s a good thing she isn’t from Seravae then, isn’t it,” Valor said coldly, his eyes locked on the High Lord.

Jexon turned toward Valor, but held his tongue, his gaze furious. Smiling slightly, Valor raised an eyebrow in invitation, daring the man to speak. To Jala’s astonishment, Jexon turned to face the seamstress instead. “See that she is properly attired as a matron should be,” he snapped as he moved to stand directly in front of Jala, his gaze traveling over her critically. His eyes lingered on her right hand and his lip curled slightly. “And make sure she has some gloves,” he snarled as he turned back toward the door and his attention fell on the servant there. “Tell them to have plenty of strong alcohol at the feast tonight and have them find some Nesra powder.” Glancing back at her once more he shook his head. “I’m going to need it, I’m afraid,” he added in a disgusted voice as he stalked from the room.

Valor started to move forward to block his way but Neph pulled him back with a sharp shake of his head. “Not now, Val. He is trying to piss us off. The sorry bastard likely needs Nesra powder to get it up at all,” Neph whispered.

“He succeeded in pissing me off,” Ash said quietly and let out a slow breath. “Are you all right, Jala?” he asked as the seamstress moved off to sort through the stacks of cloth that covered most of the table standing by the far wall.

“I’m fine,” Jala replied, her eyes locked on Legacy who was happily playing on a blanket under the window. Her son had managed to capture Marrow’s tail finally and was trying to figure out how to shove it into his waiting mouth before the Bendazzi managed to free himself once more. Marrow squirmed and twisted in mock agitation always managing to keep his tail just out of range.

“I admire your resolve in this.” The soft voice drew Jala’s attention back to the doorway as the Master of Silence stepped into the room. The woman moved with a catlike grace as she crossed the room to stand before her. “Jexon is…” her voice trailed off as she searched for the proper word to use.

“A waste of air?” Neph offered in a helpful tone.

“A craven sack of shit unworthy to clean the mud from Jala’s shoes?” Valor suggested, taking the cue instantly from Neph.