“In hiding for a while, I don’t doubt. I can’t believe he managed to get you to cry,” Victory replied with a shrug.
Havoc’s hand snapped up and he pointed a finger at Victory threateningly. “You didn’t just say that and it didn’t happen!” he growled, his eyes scanning for anyone that might have overheard those damning words. Everyone in the area seemed far more interested in the burning building however. Lowering his hand slowly he straightened his shoulders and then slowly began to notice Victory’s appearance. The knight was dressed for cold weather and wore his battle armor rather than the fancy plate he usually favored. His horse was geared fully as well with bags bursting with provisions tied behind the saddle.
“Delvay is marching in force,” Victory explained quietly. “You have friends there don’t you?” he asked as he pushed gently on Avalanche’s chest. The massive white horse backed up revealing the smaller red one that stood behind it.
Havoc smiled at the sight of his flame steed and then looked back to Victory with a questioning look. “You hate the mountains of Delvay,” he reminded the Fae.
“I hate my friend being locked away even more, and I think if I leave you in the same city as Lutheron you will end up in chains again,” Victory said with a shrug and tossed Havoc his reins. “Honestly, I didn’t think Charm could get you out and I thought I was wasting time here. Glad to be wrong on this one occasion.”
“You are wrong far more often than this one occasion,” Havoc muttered as he wrapped his reins around his hand. His horse stepped closer and pushed its nose against his stomach. With a faint smile Havoc ran his hand down Razor’s neck and looked back to Victory. “Did Charm speak the truth on any of it? Is Jala truly lying near death? Did the spell to raise Finn really fail?” he asked cautiously unsure if he truly wanted to hear the answer.
“Both are true,” Victory admitted with a frown. “Vaze says if we travel to Merro we will draw attention to her. He believes we have a traitor in the Fionaveir and says the best way to protect her is to pretend she is dying and we don’t care. He says if we ignore the value of her life they will as well.”
“And what do you think?” Havoc asked watching his friends face for any indication of his emotions.
“I think no matter how much I hate the mountains and the rudeness of the Delvay that the battles there will likely keep my mind occupied. I think that if I remain in this city one more day feeling as though my hands are tied, I might turn into a lesser image of you. I do hate the thought of cursing like a madman while hurling magic about carelessly,” Victory replied with a sigh. His green eyes shifted toward the Merro district and then returned to Havoc. “I feel as though we have failed to protect her at all. I wonder often if we should have ignored orders and kept her with us rather than leave her at the temple. Every time she stumbles, I feel as though it is my fault for not teaching her how to walk in this bloody world. I need something to focus on, Havoc.”
“I need something to kill,” Havoc growled softly. The Fae’s words were a mirror of his own feelings, though spoken more eloquently than he ever could have managed. It wasn’t just Jala the words applied to, however. For him, they hit home in two places. He had watched Finn stumble and had never once managed to help him. “So Delvay, then,” Havoc agreed as he swung onto his horse and settled in the saddle.
“It must be a birthright of the Firym that allows them to bottle everything so deeply inside,” Victory mused as he climbed onto his own horse.
“It’s what fuels our fire, Vic. Every burnt building is a Firym teardrop. Just remember that,” Havoc said quietly as he glanced back at the warehouse one last time. Mages had arrived by now to quench the flames and the fires had died down to embers.
“Then I almost feel pity for the Rivasans. Had I suffered the same losses you have in the past few weeks, I think I would be sobbing. If you express pain through flames there won’t be anything left of Rivana,” Victory replied as he moved his horse closer to Havoc’s and began the spell to transport them to Delvay. “We should take Spell hawk rather than magic you know. With everything in turmoil, traveling like this is risky.”
“Let them pull us out of the transport spell. I hope they do. I’ll cry a river for the bastards,” Havoc growled.
Chapter 11
Merro
“I’ve done what I can for her but it isn’t enough. She is going to lose the child and if she lives she will never have full use of that hand again.”
The words echoed out of the dark fog surrounding her and Jala struggled to recognize the voice. It was a man speaking, though she couldn’t place who. Her eyelids were heavy and it seemed too much effort to force them open. She felt the child move inside her once more and turned her attention fully to him. It didn’t matter who was speaking, they were wrong. Carefully she drew on the scant magic she had managed to rebuild and wrapped it protectively around the child. Be strong. Grow, she urged him, her words sent directly to him with no need to be spoken aloud.
“She is too feverish. Can you do nothing about that?” Another voice, this time Vaze. She felt a hand brush her cheek and it felt like ice against her skin.
“The wound on her side is corrupt and I can’t get the infection out no matter how many times I heal it. That is causing the fever and that will be what kills her if she dies. The hand is maimed but healed and this wound on her neck is clean,” the first voice spoke again filled with frustration.
“If we remove the child now does she have a chance of recovery?” Vaze asked, his tone cautious.
Jala felt panic rising and retreated further into herself wrapping everything she had around her child as if simply her spirit would be enough to protect him.