The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)

“What?” Neph blurted before he could stop himself.

Jala shrugged and nodded her head. “Pretty close to my reaction. I was stunned and speechless and devastated all at the same time. Did you know, when you kill a Divine you take their power and their place?” she asked with a bittersweet smile and chuckled darkly when he shook his head. “Neither did Finn, so now he is the Lord of Death,” she said as she pulled the holy symbol from her night robe to dangle it before him. “Hence, my reverence for Death now.”

“That bastard is responsible for my afterlife if I die?” Neph grumbled and shook his head in disbelief. “Shit. I have seen Finn forget to dress fully before leaving the hall. I shudder to think of my soul in his care,” Leaning back farther in his chair he rubbed his jaw as Jala took another long pull from the wine bottle. She didn’t drink often, but when she did, it usually ended poorly. “So, Seth takes Legacy to see his true father in hell. That’s got to be mentally scarring to a kid,” Neph concluded dryly. “Was this your idea, or Finn’s?”

“Seth’s idea,” Jala said miserably. “And now he has taken Zoelyn and I don’t know why and he kept calling her Undrae. The Shifters in Glis despise her for her powers, Neph, and Seth is a Shifter. What if he kills her? There is nothing I can do to protect her there and she was in my care. She doesn’t deserve to die. She was trying to protect my son from him.” The words poured out of her and she fell back onto his bed, the wine carefully balanced in one hand while her other rubbed her face.

“From what I heard through the door, he didn’t sound homicidal,” Neph offered with a shrug.

“When he was alive and still working as an Assassin, his call name was The Gentleman. He never sounds homicidal, Neph. Seth can smile and wink at you as he slits your throat.” Jala’s voice rose with the words and he could see her panic returning. “I have to get to the Darklands,” she added in a low whisper.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Neph said quickly. “Finn is the Lord of Death right?” he asked as he dropped his feet down from the table and rose from his chair. The last time Jala had journeyed to the Darklands it had nearly killed her and he wasn’t about to let her go again even if it meant knocking her out.

“I just said he was, didn’t I?” Jala snapped as she sat up on the bed with an expression on her face that was equal parts irritation and concern.

“Then pray. Finn will hear you,” Neph ordered.

“Well in that case it would have made more sense to go to the temple now wouldn’t it,” Jala grumbled her eyes narrowing at him.

“Jala, temples exist for our comfort so we have a place to recognize our faith. The gods do not require us to be in a certain spot to hear us.

They are gods, after all. Hold your symbol and pray,” Neph said gently and settled back into his chair once more. He half expected her to bolt for the door at the mention of going to the Darklands, but to his relief she seemed to be listening.

“Fine, then explain what is in the vaults while I plead with my dead husband,” Jala sighed as she wrapped her hand tightly around her holy symbol and closed her eyes.

“It is times like this that I realize my life will never be normal,” Neph sighed and waved a hand toward the bottle. “Share the booze and I’ll pour my heart out.” Wordlessly, Jala handed over the bottle and he took a small drink. She hadn’t left much and he considered grabbing another bottle, but decided a dry throat was better than a drunk Jala.

“Well?” Jala snapped.

“More praying. Less talking. I’m trying to decide how to start this,” Neph grumbled. He had never actually spoken of the Delvay secrets before. No one did. His father had only told him the story once and RenDelvayon had made it quite clear that he didn’t repeat it to anyone outside the family. As far as Neph was concerned, though, RenDelvayon’s judgment had always been off, and he trusted Jala far more than he had ever trusted his family, aside from Zyi. “You know what the Guardians are right?” he asked finally. There was no way around it that he could see. In order to explain it clearly, he had to start at the beginning.

“The ones that created the prison and the Barrier,” Jala answered, sounding a bit distracted.

“The original Guardians were Delvay. Our people started it all. Over the course of time there was a split, however, and two factions emerged. One side was focused on the preservation of the world. The other side was focused on elimination of threats at all cost. Needless to say, the differences in views was drastic and the fighting within our cities grew to the point that the preservationists withdrew. They stopped referring to themselves as Delvay and began recruiting those with the same beliefs from other nations. In a matter of years they were known simply as the Guardians and had a shroud of mystery surrounding them that only the Delvay truly understood,” Neph paused and took another drink of wine. Jala was watching him now with a calmer look on her face, though the holy symbol was still clutched tightly in her hands.