The Elder Blood Chronicles Bk 1 In Shades of Grey (7 page)

She remembered her father racing down the
hill running straight toward the danger, and she felt her eyes mist
again. Not true tears only going glassy. She nodded slowly in
reply. She wasn’t sure if she could get words past the lump in her
throat.

Havoc watched her and to her shock his eyes
were glassy, as well. “Badger was a friend. Not a close friend, but
he saved my life more than once. If you have need in the future,
Kid, look me up. Same for Victory. Be careful who you ask about us,
but if you are in true need, find us and we will help.”

“You think he is going to leave me then?” She
asked in a whisper.

He nodded and looked back toward the door.
“I’m not sure what Caspian said to him when they spoke last night,
but he has been back there too long for it to be otherwise. He
wouldn’t leave you in a bad place, though, kid. If you are staying,
you will be safe. Victory was closer with Badger than I was, and he
will do right by his child.”

She frowned at his words. She hadn’t seen
anyone talk to Victory but perhaps she had been asleep. “Why do you
call Daddy that? His name was Toby, why do you call him Badger?”
She asked.

Havoc shrugged a bit and gave another sigh.
“We have many names in life, girl. The first our mother gives us,
then as we grow we might get a nickname from family.” He looked at
her thoughtfully. “I’m guessing that yours was probably Curly.

She gave a slight nod. “Daddy called me that
sometimes,” she admitted.

“The last name you earn. Some never earn one.
Those that seek to change things, do. You gain a reputation, you
gain a name. My mother didn’t give me the name of Havoc. I earned
it through deeds.” He gave her a rueful smile. “As you can tell,
they were not the best of deeds, but I stand behind what I have
done in life. Your father earned the name Badger for his tenacity.
He never quit, and he never gave up, no matter the odds. He might
have been smaller than whatever he was facing, but that would just
make him fight harder, like a badger protecting its den.”

The door across the hall opened and Victory
emerged, followed closely by the old priest. They both smiled at
her in that way adults had that was meant to reassure. She didn’t
feel reassured at all by it.

“Jala, this is Father Belson. He is going to
look after you now. There are two other priests here as well, but
they travel often and aren’t here at the moment. He is the Speaker
for Fortune here, though, and he will act as your guardian.”
Victory motioned toward the old man, and he moved forward.

“May Fortune bless you child, and you are
most welcome here.” He gave her another smile and looked to Havoc.
“I understand you have doubts of leaving the child here. I give you
my word she will have the best care I can offer.”

Havoc raised an eyebrow at the old man and
snorted. “She best. I’ll check back and if anything is amiss
Fortune will need a new priest.” His words were not spoken with
anger, but words filled with facts

Victory sighed and leaned over to give Jala a
light hug and kiss on the forehead. “Keep safe child and learn what
you can.” He stood and looked down at her with a sad smile. “May
our paths cross again in better times.” He looked back toward Havoc
and motioned to the door before he headed that way himself.

Havoc looked away from the priest and down at
her. “I’m not the hugging sort,” he said gruffly and unbuckled a
small knife from his worn leather belt. “And this isn’t the sort of
gift one usually gives a small girl. But you keep it. It’s mine,
and I’ve kept it with me for long enough that it knows it’s mine.”
She looked down at the small knife he offered and wondered how a
knife could know anything. It was pretty in design with a large red
gem set in the worn hilt. “You ever need us, a decent mage can find
me by that knife. Keep it safe and keep yourself safe.” She took
the knife from him with a slight nod and he ruffled her hair and
turned to follow Victory out into the bright sunlight. “Don’t
forget my words, Priest, I won’t,” he called over his shoulder as
the door closed behind him.

Outside the Temple, Victory waited already
mounted Avalanche. He was watching the Temple with an expression
that made Havoc pause mid step. “You look like you just did
something very bad Victory,” Havoc said cautiously. “What did you
just do and will I have to kill you for it?”

Victory looked over at him and shook his
head. “I’m not really sure what I just did, Havoc, and I don’t know
if you need to kill me yet or not. Only time will tell on that
matter.”

Havoc’s eyes narrowed and he looked back to
the Temple doors before turning his gaze back to Victory. “You will
explain that before I even think of getting on my horse.” His hand
had dropped to the hilt of his sword, and his tone was dangerous
and quiet. “You know I hate priests and this wasn’t something I
liked to begin with.”

“It’s not the priest, Havoc. I found nothing
wrong with Father Belson. It was Caspian. When I spoke with him in
the mind link last night, I explained everything. I showed him the
girl and told him of the mark. He was so quiet I thought I had lost
the link. When he did speak again, he told me to bring the girl
here and leave her. He told me to have the priest keep her well
away from the troubles of the world.” He rubbed his jaw and
frowned.

“Can’t say that’s a bad thing considering
what the world is. There are times I’d rather if left me alone as
well,” Havoc replied, his tone cautious. “Out with the rest of it,
though. That’s not the whole of it or you wouldn’t be
bothered.”

Victory’s frown deepened. “He told me to
leave coin enough for the girl to be well provided for, and to
leave instruction with the priests. When she reaches age, she is to
be sent to the Academy in Sanctuary for first circle training.”

Havoc’s expression changed from caution to
confusion. “Why would Badger’s daughter need first circle
training?” he asked.

“Exactly!” Victory agreed. “So you see my
difficulty. I’m not sure what I just did to that child’s future or
why I did it. But I have my orders and must follow them.” He turned
his horse and with one last glance rode away from Bliss. Havoc
frowned and mounted his own horse. “Bugger orders, Caspian will
explain this when we get back to the fortress,” he grumbled and
followed after Victory, ignoring the nagging feeling in his guts
that he wouldn’t like the explanation.

Ten years later.

Jala woke with a start and fought off the
last hints of the nightmare. It had been a long while since she’d
had one and the experience left her a bit shaken. She rubbed at her
eyes with the back of her hand and noted by the light streaming
through the window that she had overslept. She sat up with a groan
and wondered why Gretchen hadn’t banged on her door yet. The surly
housekeeper was never shy about waking her up. Her breath fogged in
the early morning air and she cringed at the thought of leaving the
warm quilts or putting her bare feet down on the cold tiles. Bits
of her dream crept back to her as she sat there. Unlike the ones
she’d had as a child, this one had been more from memory than
fantasy. It had been forever since she had remembered that day. She
had tried to push it to the back of her mind. It still hurt to
remember. After all this time, even the bark of a dog was like a
razor if the memories were too close.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and
crawled out of bed. As she had expected, the floor was icy beneath
her bare feet. She quickly dressed, changing from her sleeping
shift to the first dress that met her hand in her meager closet.
She pulled her boots on soon after and crossed the small room to
the basin and mirror that waited on the dresser. Her eyes were
blurry as she splashed the water on her face and the shock of it
banished the ghosts from her mind. She looked up from the basin and
studied herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot, and there
were faint dark circles under them. Her hair was a mess of curls as
always but for all that she still looked pretty, if in a worn,
tired way. She smiled ruefully and tried to pull her brush through
her tangled hair. She rolled her eyes as it began to frizz and
sighed heavily. On a good day, her hair was her best feature. This
was not going to be a good day. With practiced ease, she began to
work it into a tidy braid, choosing to ignore the few wild strands
that escaped her work. She was tying it off with a ribbon when the
first bang of a fist hit her door. “I’m up,” she called over her
shoulder before Gretchen could bellow her displeasure.

“And plenty late about it, too, have you
forgotten what today is?” The old woman’s voice was muffled through
the door, but not by much. Gretchen could match voice with the best
of them and leave many wanting.

She cursed herself under her breath. She had
forgotten what day it was. Her mind had been filled with memories
and she hadn’t even given anything else a thought. She was leaving
the Temple today. They had been preparing for it all week by sewing
new dresses and packing. She felt the lump rise again. She was
going to the Academy today, whether she liked it or not. Father
Belson had been firm about it when she had objected to leaving. It
had already been arranged, and that was all he would say on the
matter. She loved the old man like a grandfather, but the answer
made her want to choke him. Arranged? She had not been asked about
it at all, not even consulted.

“The coach will be here any moment, Jala, and
you’ve still not even eaten. At this rate, you’ll be taking
breakfast on the road with you,” Gretchen called through the door
again, and Jala felt her nerves fraying. While she loved the old
priest, she certainly did not love Gretchen. The old woman was a
sour thing.

“I’ll be out in just a minute,” she called
back trying to keep the irritation from her voice. She didn’t want
a fight with Gretchen today. Really she just wanted to crawl back
into bed, but if she did, the housekeeper would just pound away on
the door until she either opened it or the wood surrendered and
crumbled before the assault. With a muttered curse, she buckled her
belt around her waist. It wasn’t exactly a feminine addition to her
outfit, but it was practical. Two pouches hung from one side. One
swayed heavily, with small odd pieces that proved helpful, while
the other hung much lighter and held the few coins she owned. She
buckled the small knife onto the other side and paused to run her
thumb across the red gem. She briefly thought of seeking Havoc but
didn’t think being sent to school would qualify as a crisis to him
so she quickly dismissed the thought. She pulled her cloak on last.
It was faded to a dull grey, and most would have thrown it out,
given how tattered the ends of it were. But it was the cloak they
had wrapped her in when they found her, and she would keep it until
it gave away to threads.

She glanced at herself in the mirror again
and wondered briefly at her image. She was pretty. She knew that
without vanity. Her face was smooth; her skin a pale cream with
full lips the color of roses. Her hair and eyes were unique. She
had never seen anyone with the same color. She frowned at the
thought. Her father’s hair had been a dark brown with warm golden
brown eyes. Her mother’s hair had been dark as well only a shade or
two lighter than black and her eyes had been a clear hazel. She
could see neither of her parents in the face that stared back at
her from the mirror. Her mind was not as clear on her memory of her
younger brother, she hated to admit, but he had been small, and she
had been so young. She could remember his hair had been dark,
though, and while she couldn’t remember his eyes, she was sure they
hadn’t been violet.

She gave a heavy sigh and smoothed her dress.
It was one of her favorites, she noted, amazed that she hadn’t even
noticed which she had put on. It was worn from use, but it was
comfortable and gave her the appearance of having more curves than
the gods had seen fit to grant. The deep blue color of it made her
seem paler too, which suited her dark hair well.
Almost drawing
attention away from my bloodshot eyes
she thought with a smirk.
The banging came at the door again, and she eyed the reflection of
the dress in the mirror darkly. If only the door could hit back,
she mused silently. “I’m coming,” she called as she crossed the
room. She gave a last look at the room that had been her home for
the past ten years and stepped through the door.

Gretchen towered above her in the hall, her
gaze that of a storm cloud. The old woman was huge, bigger than
most men. Her brown hair going more to grey was pulled back in its
customary tight bun giving her an even more severe appearance. She
eyed Jala critically with her hands on her hips, her expression
clearly disapproving. “Look at you in that ratty cloak and that
dress. You think to be off like that? What will they say about the
Temple if I let you leave here looking an urchin?”

Jala could think of a few things she would
like to say of the Temple housekeeper, but she bit her tongue and
simply frowned. Fighting with Gretchen was a daily event she would
rather avoid. If she must leave, she would rather do it on good
terms. “I grabbed the first one in my closet,” she replied honestly
yet the old woman’s gaze did not waver. “I’ll change before I get
to the academy, of course, and surely these old worn clothes are
best for traveling. The coach is sure to be dusty, and I wouldn’t
want to ruin one we have just sewn.” With relief, she watched
Gretchen’s expression soften a fraction.

“See that you do, now off with you. You’ve
overslept by far, and you have goodbyes to make.” Grateful for the
dismissal, Jala made her way down the hall. She stopped in the
kitchen and leaned on the counter. The burly old cook looked up at
her with a sad smile. “Off to the big wide world today eh,
Curly?”