“You shouldn’t be able to move that much with the dose I gave you,” the man scolded mildly as he dropped to a crouch and plunged the dagger into the back of the Bendazzi’s skull. Pain shot through her as the link with her familiar was severed and Jala fell back on the bed, her chest heaving. The man moved to stand over her, the dagger still in his hand. Leaning down he casually wiped the blood on her nightgown and smiled coldly at her.
It took Jala’s mind a long moment to recognize him. It had been so long since she had actually seen the man, that he was unfamiliar. It was Wesley, one of her own people, the healer she had brought from Sanctuary. “Traitor” she gasped as the unbearable loss of Marrow ripped through her.
“Everyone can be bought, Jala,” Jexon said with a smile as he moved to stand over her as well. “Wesley wasn’t that hard actually. He didn’t care much for the way you shunned him and once I discovered his little secret, getting him to help me was easy,” Jexon explained in the same polite tones he had used earlier that day before the battle.
“Valor,” Jala breathed as memory of the fight flashed back into her mind. She didn’t even know if the knight had survived the battle.
Jexon’s face darkened at once and his smile lost all warmth. “I’m sure you will find him in the Darklands. My men are dealing with him now,” Jexon said, a savage smile lighting his face.
“Valor will kill you,” Jala hissed through clenched teeth. Words were getting more difficult as the muscles in her body refused to respond to her commands.
“The poison is starting to kick in. She should be fully paralyzed soon,” Wesley said as he dropped once more onto the bed beside her. His finger traced a slow path down her neck tugging lightly at the edge of her nightgown. “Can’t move at all now, can you?” he whispered, his eyebrows rising as a smile rose on his face. She recognized the expression of lust on the man’s face and it chilled her more than the poison in her blood.
“Wesley here has a penchant for dead things. Did you know that?” Jexon said, his tone once more conversational. “It took no more than the promise of his own lands and the use of your body to get his help.”
“Valor will kill you,” Jala repeated, the words barely audible. A crack of thunder broke the stillness of the night outside and laughter welled in her chest. Her lips stretched as much as they could into the parody of a smile.
“Kill her now while I deal with this,” Jexon ordered as he turned to leave the tent.
“Bye, sweetheart,” Wesley whispered as his dagger sank into her ribs.
A sob broke through Jala’s lips as the point lodged against one of her ribs. “See you in hell, Jexon,” she managed just before Wesley plunged the dagger once more and her world dissolved from blinding pain too darkness.
Chapter 29
The Darklands
Finn shifted on his throne, his heart hammering in his chest. Leaning forward he stared hard at Seth. “What do you mean she is dead?” he demanded. His mind was already racing, searching through the overwhelming number of souls drifting through his domain as he desperately tried to find Jala.
“I waited for her to call, Milord. I was ready to move, but the call never came. I cannot intervene without a direct call or by your command. As you well know, I have limited free will,” Seth said softly. “She was betrayed, Milord, by one of her healers,” Seth said, holding out a hand to show the image of Wesley as the man hovered over Jala’s still form, his hands caressing her dead flesh. Seth let the image fade and stepped back, waiting just below the throne, his head bowed and his feathered cloak thrown back over one shoulder. Seth had brought him the news so swiftly that there was no doubt in Finn’s mind that the Assassin had indeed been waiting for her to call. That didn’t silence the anger building in him though.
“You knew I wanted her to live. I shouldn’t have to give commands when you already know my will!” Finn raged as his frustration grew. He was still too unskilled with his power to find Jala amid the sea of dead. “You want to redeem yourself, Seth? Find her soul and bring her too me now!” Finn bellowed as he rose from his throne. In truth he was more angry with his own failing than he was with Seth, but then Seth didn’t need to know that.
The air before him exploded into motion as Seth’s form dissolved into Ravens, the air filling with the dark forms as they flew from the hall in all directions. Finn watched them as he dropped lightly down the stairs and began to pace the Audience hall, his arms folded behind him as he continued to search with his magic. There were so many hazards for the dead in his domain. From the demons themselves to the Forgotten, there were many souls that simply did not last long enough to reach his hall.
“It is hardly Seth’s fault that she died, though I cannot believe I’m defending Seth,” Fiona said from her post behind his throne. The woman stood still and somber in her bloodstained armor watching him with impassive eyes. Fiona had existed for so long in the Darklands that something as trivial as the arrival of a new soul no longer held any interest for her, whether she had known the soul personally or not.
“I know it’s not his fault,” Finn admitted sourly and continued to pace. “Why wouldn’t she call on him? If she knew she was going to die why couldn’t she say one name to save her life?”
“She did say a name. It was the wrong one. She called out to Valor,” Hemlock’s voice was as unwelcome as the news Seth had brought.
Slowing in his steps, Finn turned to face his newest guest with a questioning look. As always, Hemlock wore the grey cloak preventing Finn from getting even a hint of the man’s face. He knew Hemlock well enough to know the man was smiling though. “Why are you here?” Finn asked coldly. He hadn’t seen the Assassin since the day the man had plunged the dagger into his back in Sanctuary.
“Is that anyway to greet an old friend?” Hemlock asked as he dropped down into Finn’s throne, propping one leg up on the side.
“I wouldn’t exactly say we are friends. You killed me, after all,” Finn said as he stared up at the man amazed at his boldness.