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

A memory surfaced of giving Jala the same tour in the spring. Jala had been wide eyes and wonder, whereas Symphony seemed to be storing his words away carefully, nodding often as he spoke to indicate she understood. The difference in their reactions was remarkable. Jala had seemed so innocent then, that he had trusted her almost before they had left Brannaford. Symphony, however, seemed confident and poised and somehow more capable than he had ever noticed before. This was someone that could change things. This woman was on the brink of becoming the most powerful person in the world.

It was possible that he had just found exactly what he had been seeking for most of his life – a confidant that shared his concerns. He had seen Symphony’s expression when she first stepped from the ship. No one else had been close enough to see that initial reaction so he didn’t think it had been faked. It was possible that Symphony cared as much about things as he did, but didn’t have the resources to know exactly what was going on. The idea of spying on her made him sick, but the idea of spying for her had merit. She seemed to have the wit for the intrigue ahead. All he had to do was make sure she truly had the compassion. He would do everything in his power to help her rule the world if she sought to improve it. The trick would be finding out her true motives. Symphony had already proven she was clever. Thanks to Lutheron and Vaze, though, he was apparently going to have plenty of time to find out what she was truly like.





Chapter 7





The Darklands





When we first stepped through the shadow arch into the Darklands there was at least four inches between me and the front of this damned saddle. Jala mused. Now with every step the horse took, her stomach rubbed and her armor was starting to chafe her skin.

She supposed she should be grateful that the armor was enchanted and therefore still fit her. At the moment, however, she was not feeling grateful at all. She was feeling irritable and nauseous. Her stomach roiled again and she stifled a groan. It was getting increasingly harder to keep down the small amount of food she ate.

They were dangerously low on supplies, however, and she couldn’t afford to waste what little she had eaten. There wasn’t enough for a second meal today. They had been on half rations for days now, and it looked as though she would be forced to use magic to create food soon.

An incline in the path sent her against the front of the saddle again and she had to hold her breath to keep from heaving her stomach’s contents over the side of the horse. Closing her eyes, she took several short breaths, and had to fight to keep from bursting into tears. What the hell am I doing here? How am I supposed to win Finn back when I can’t even ride a damned horse at a slow walk? At this rate, the most I will be able to do to Death is vomit on her. She exhaled slowly, her breath coming in shaky bursts, and tried to compose herself once more.

Fiona was still walking silently ahead and showed no indication that she had witnessed any of Jala’s distress. For that minor miracle, Jala found herself overwhelmingly grateful. The dead woman was full of scathing remarks and would have no doubt had one at the ready had she noticed Jala’s eyes growing glassy.

Jala let out another slow breath and felt herself growing more steady as the horse slowed to a stop. Glancing over her shoulder she looked at Valor in question. Fiona had shown no indication that anything was wrong and the expression on Valor’s face seemed calm enough.

“I’m going to walk.” Valor whispered.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s your horse. If anyone should walk, it’s me.” Jala snapped, and instantly regretted her tone. It wasn’t fair to take her misery out on Valor and she knew it. “I’m sorry. It’s just, well I’m wickedly over-emotional today, I suppose,” she sighed, and felt the tears welling again as she let out a shaky sob or laugh, she wasn’t really sure which it was.

“I’ll walk,” Valor said cautiously and started to swing down from the horse.

“Bullshit,” Jala snapped and kicked Valorous hard in the ribs sending the horse into a trot. Valor shifted quickly behind her, taking the reins up once more and slowing the speed, but not before her stomach had managed at least three flips toward her throat. “Oh, why did I do that?” she moaned softly and bent forward over the saddle resting her forehead against Valorous’s thick mane.

“Because you are stubborn and insane right now,” Valor replied with a sigh.

“Insane?” Jala snapped, whirling her head to look at him once more all tears forgotten.

“Oh, for the love of the Aspects. You were calling yourself insane not too long ago. My sister was the same way when she was pregnant. Mood swings, sickness, strange food cravings, pain in the back and legs. Honestly I don’t why anyone calls pregnancy beautiful. From what I’ve seen, it turns perfectly sane women into vomiting tortured loonies with a penchant for eating things that normally aren’t edible,” Valor said softly in an exasperated tone that somehow still held sympathy. Shifting the reins to where they were resting on the front of the saddle he leaned back away from her and began to undo the buckles on his gauntlet and bracer.

“I’m sorry. I know this must be difficult for you.” Jala sniffed and let out another shaky breath. “What are you doing?” she asked as he placed the pieces of armor into his saddle bag.

“Hush loony, and try to focus on something pleasant for a bit. I know it’s rather difficult given where we are, why we are here, and what we are going to do, but try it anyway. It’s called mind over matter. Think positive, focus on things like I will not vomit on Valor; he is filthy enough,” Valor said with a sigh and took the reins up once again in the hand that still bore armor. Moving the other hand carefully he placed it between her stomach and the hard leather of the saddle. “At least you won’t be bumping him this way. I’d hate to see Finn’s firstborn come into this world with a dented head.”

“I’m so sorry, Valor,” Jala said softly, her head bowed forward once more. She felt the first of the tears trace a path down her face and squeezed her eyes shut tightly as if she could trap the rest before they fell.