The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes (24 page)

Read The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes Online

Authors: Melissa Myers

Tags: #magic, #magic romance adventure, #magic and fantasy

BOOK: The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes
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Keep fighting. Block them out and focus. I
will not let them take your child and I will guard you while you
fight
. Marrow’s words in her mind drowned all the voices in the
room and she nodded faintly.
Take some of my strength until your
own returns. You need magic and you are as dry as sand. That’s her
magic working on your wound. I can sense it, though I don’t know
why the fools around you can’t.

I can’t let him die, Marrow. I can’t lose
them both
, Jala whispered back to the Bendazzi. The effort of
the mind link pulled her back from the child for only the barest
moment and in that breath she felt the corruption spread
farther.

Cursing herself for a fool, she drew on
Marrow’s strength and wrapped more protections around the child.
The threads of Anthe’s broken wards wavered faintly before her and
she began to repair them as well.
Be strong
, she urged the
child once more as she worked. Anthe’s magic grew clearer in her
mind as she focused upon the individual threads until each ward
appeared as a delicate silver web in her mind. Most of the magic
still held and she knew without a doubt that was the only thing
that had saved her child’s life until now. With her mind made agile
once more by Marrow’s gift she worked quickly, retying the broken
strands until each ward was whole once more. Never before had she
had such clarity with her magic. Sovann had spoken of threads and
strands before but she had always assumed it was simply terminology
for the craft. Not literally strands of magic forming each
spell.

Her son settled and she felt him grow calm.
As her fear for him subsided she turned her focus to the wound on
her side. She could see the magic now, black vile threads that
pierced her flesh in thousands of places. Cursing herself once
again for not noticing it sooner she began to slowly pluck the
threads from her one by one only to see three more take their
place. Pulling her remaining magic back once more she focused on
the magic itself trying to find a starting point for unraveling the
spell. The threads surged again and more tiny strands of darkness
latched onto her skin spreading the corruption farther.

Pulling on Marrow’s strength once more she
tried simply to contain the magic until she could determine how to
end it. The black threads wavered in her mind and she began to see
the pattern of them. Web after web of darkness surrounded her as if
a thousand spiders were weaving a cocoon over her flesh. The magic
bore down through her flesh where the threads connected, each
strand of darkness seeking a way through the wards protecting her
child.

Jala gave a silent snarl of frustration and
refocused her magic to block the seeking strands. She simply didn’t
have enough power yet to stop the spell. Her son’s only hope now
was that she should could keep Death’s touch from him long enough
for her own magic to strengthen him enough to live beyond her
broken body.
Be strong. Grow
, Jala repeated, sending more
magic to the child within her. Time lost all meaning to her as her
entire mind was devoted to halting the webs of Death’s magic and
feeding her strength to her child.

 

 

The brush of icy water drew Jala’s attention
partially back from her constant battle with Death. She felt cloth
on her skin once more and the sensation infuriated her. She
couldn’t afford to spare attention for the sunlit world right
now.

“They say it is a good sign that you still
live,” Wisp’s voice was low and filled with misery. “I wish you
would just open your eyes though. I am so terrified for you. Marrow
is wasting away just as you are and I feel like I am watching you
both die. I feel so helpless right now, Jala. Please tell me what
to do.”

“Careful Wisp, don’t get too close to her.
She is fever mad right now and she can siphon. Marrow is being
drained, that’s why he looks like that. She spent half of the night
muttering about spiders and she has been tossing and turning all
morning. When the fever passes and her mind clears, she will be
safe to approach again,” Sovann warned softly.

Ignore them. Focus. I am fine. It takes
more than you to kill a Bendazzi
, Marrow growled as her
attention moved from the threads of dark magic to the words being
spoken above her.

Jala nodded inwardly to the Bendazzi and
turned back to the threads once more. She had managed to sort them
finally and knew each spell for what it was. There wasn’t enough
strength to break them all though, and after Sovann’s words she
feared drawing more power from Marrow. Her mind brushed against the
magic as she tested its strength once more and she felt the
faintest touch of another mind. Cautiously she pressed farther and
slowly realized what she was sensing, Death herself. Jala froze.
Her touch on the threads was as still as stone. If Death sensed her
presence, she gave no indication. The Divine’s mind seemed fully
focused on her magics and the weaving of more strands.

Jala pushed her awareness slowly along the
threads of magic, her mind constantly watching Death’s progress for
any sign that the Divine had noticed her. The weave of magic ended
at Death herself and Jala could see the countless threads that
covered the Divine clearly. Not all of them led back to her
however, and she began to slowly trace the other strands trying to
sense their purpose. A smile began to form in her mind as she
recognized protection spells and then her mind brushed a thread
that was so painful she almost lost all focus. She could feel Finn
through that strand. Lightly she brushed against the magic once
more and felt the iron control Death kept upon him. It was no
wonder Finn’s willpower had not been enough. The Divine was
directing so much focus to controlling him that Jala was amazed she
had magic left to spare for anything else. Forcing herself to
continue, Jala brushed against strand after strand of magic, some
leading to people, others to the Demons of the Darklands. The sheer
amount of power the Divine held was staggering. Jala had thought
she was powerful until now. If she could only redirect some of her
strength to here she could severe these threads and force Death’s
attention back from her. That would mean risking her child, though,
and he wasn’t yet strong enough.

“What are you doing back here? There is
nothing more that you can do and you are swaying on your feet.”
Neph’s voice echoed as if he stood a thousand miles away, but she
heard each word clearly.

“Has she improved?” Valor’s voice was slurred
and the words clumsy, but hope surged in her chest at the sound of
it. Valor would help her and she knew it.

“You are drunk, Valor, and I won’t have you
hovering over her. In your state you are likely to fall on her,”
Neph growled in response.

Cautiously, Jala edged back up the strands of
magic toward the voices. “Snarly, grumbly, gruff, Neph. Shh,” she
mumbled her divided focus made spoken words nearly impossible.

“Jala!” Wisp gasped and she felt the Fae pull
back with her damned cold cloth. “She spoke did you hear her? That
wasn’t fever ramblings. She clearly told Neph to shut up,” Wisp
called to the others in the room.

“Jala, can you hear us?” Sovann asked softly
but Jala ignored him. As much as she wanted to reassure her friends
she couldn’t spare the strength for more words than she absolutely
had to speak.

“Valor, I need help. All of me goes to him
and there is nothing left to stop the damned weaving,” Jala gasped
and struggled weakly to pull her hand from under the mountain of
blankets that covered her.

“Valor, you idiot she is fever mad. She could
drain you dry and kill you,” Neph snapped.

“She asked me for help and I won’t refuse
her,” Valor mumbled his voice thick and hard to understand.

“Would you say the same sober? This might be
your death, Valor,” Sovann spoke gently.

“Twice as loudly and without the slur,” Valor
replied as he freed her hand from the tangle of blankets and
wrapped his around it in a firm grip. “Take whatever you need,
Jala. Squish whatever spiders you keep muttering about,” he urged
her. The smell of alcohol wafted from him so strongly that her
stomach roiled, but the strength and warmth of his hand was a
lifeline that she couldn’t ignore.

“Valor, you are an idiot. You aren’t even a
mage. Your reserves are too low for this even when she is thinking
clearly,” Neph protested and she felt Valor jerk slightly and knew
the Delvay was trying to pull him away.

Valor’s hand tightened further, though not
hard enough to bring pain. “If I die, so be it. I’ll call it a good
death if she lives. Her life is far more valuable than mine, so
back off Neph. There is an entire country out there waiting for
her. I have a bottle waiting for me.”

“And three hundred bloody knights that I
don’t want to command if you die. Not to mention your niece,” Neph
snapped.

“Bridgette is better fit for the job anyway
and Devony would be better for not learning from me,” Valor replied
with a faint chuckle and leaned closer to Jala, his whiskey-laced
breath cool on her cheek. “Hurry up, Jala, before Neph’s bitching
does me in and the opportunity is wasted.”

Cautiously, Jala brushed against Valor’s
magic to test his reserves and found more than she could have
possibly hoped for. His reservoir brimmed though part of it seemed
locked away somehow behind a barrier that didn’t seem to be magical
at all. The magic locked there glowed with such vibrancy that she
flinched away and refocused on the barrier. With gentle brushes she
pushed against it willing it away so she could reach the formidable
power it held. The barrier resisted her touch and Jala pushed with
more force and insistence. A trickle of his power brushed against
her and her hopes rose further. With another strong nudge, Jala
forced the barrier fully open and Valor’s innermost reserves washed
over her like a flood. Magic hummed in her veins and she reveled in
the ecstasy of it. Faintly she heard Valor let out a gasp and she
pulled herself back once more taking care to not drain more than
she had to. She would not kill Valor any more than she would allow
her child to die.

Jala squeezed his hand in thanks and turned
her mind inward, searching once more for Death’s foul magic. The
webs of magic blazed clearly in her mind as Valor’s power surged
through her. Moving with sure confidence she crossed through the
strands once more and began sorting through the webs of magic that
cloaked Death like a second skin.

She paused as she found the strand the held
Finn so tightly in check and brushed lightly against it once more.
She felt a stir through the magic and the faintest hint of Finn’s
mind.
I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough, Finn. I tried, I
really did. I am strong enough to help you with this, though
,
Jala sent the whisper as subtly as she could through the strand,
but despite her attempt at stealth she felt Death’s awareness shift
inward. Death slowed in her weaving of spells and Jala could feel
the Divine searching for her.

The time for stealth was gone. She had
moments before the Divine found her and she wasn’t sure if she
could win without surprise on her side. Drawing her power closer to
her, Jala focused on the strands of magic that branched from the
Divine to so many people and severed them in one swift blow.
Without pause she slashed the threads holding the Demons under
Death’s power and felt Death lurch in surprise and then her rapidly
growing fear.

Quickly, Jala began to retreat back toward
her own body, her mind changing and shifting the webs of dark magic
as she went. She twisted the last web as her mind settled in her
own skin and sent the transformed spells crashing back toward their
creator.

It was Neph that had shown her how close a
healing spell was to a death spell, and it was a healing spell that
she had cast on Death in the Darklands that had destroyed her hand.
That was the nature of opposing magic. With most magic the reaction
of opposite powers wasn’t so severe, but when you combined positive
spells of healing with the negative spells of necromancy the
results were catastrophic. Death had written her own destruction
without even realizing it, simply by wrapping herself in so much
dark magic. Jala’s only regret was that she had no way of seeing
just how catastrophic the cocoon of healing she had sent back to
Death would be.

Letting out a long breath she let her mind
brush across her child and found him peaceful and content. A faint
smile brushed her lips despite her fatigue and sorrow. Slowly she
forced herself back to the sunlit world and her eyes fluttered
open. Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window momentarily
blinding her and then the world slowly returned to focus. Valor
still sat beside the bed his hand still gripping hers and his dark
blue eyes intent on her face.

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