The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams (8 page)

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She wasn’t sure exactly what she had been
expecting from the Merro quarter but it wasn’t this. Everywhere she
looked was ruin and decay. Garbage filled the alleys and the
buildings looked on the verge of falling down. Even the roads were
barely serviceable. Sullen faces stared out of doorways, watching
them as they passed. She wished they had thought to change to
plainer clothes. Valor was drawing the most attention and she half
expected him to be mugged by the time they left the district.

“I’ve got a lovely time for ya pretty,” a
hoarse woman’s voice called down to them from a balcony. She wore a
ragged dress that had faded to a dull grey and her hair was tangled
about her shoulders. Her smile drew the skin on her gaunt face
tight giving her a cadaverous look.

“Well, you have a plentitude of very
frightening whore houses. Not really sure what those sores are
around her mouth and that particular part of the anatomy definitely
isn’t supposed to be that color. Damn,” Finn observed, looking up
at the woman with a sickly expression. “Healers. You need healers
desperately.” He shuddered slightly and turned his attention back
to the street ahead.

“I may turn celibate after witnessing that,”
Valor murmured, swallowing heavily.

“You shouldn’t have looked,” Jala said mildly
and carefully kept her gaze from going back to the whore above.

They had planned simply to ride through the
district and decide what to fix first, but seeing all this and
doing nothing was gnawing at Jala. She wanted to change it now. She
hated the thought of leaving these people in this condition any
longer than she had too. “Why did Merro’s fall hit them so hard?
Couldn’t they have found a way to live without Merro?” she asked
quietly, not understanding at all what had happened here.

“Most of them depended on Merro for supplies
and imports. A few craftsmen were able to continue but they moved
to better parts of the city. What you are looking at are the dregs,
the lower class that had nothing else beyond the simple labor their
home country provided,” Valor explained.

“Dock workers, warehouse men, and the whores
that served their like. Each district has a surplus of that sort
and most of these didn’t have the money to move. Some of them
turned to thieving for the Nightblades. A lot just do what they can
simply to survive,” Finn said carefully steering his horse around a
large pile of garbage blocking part of the street. Angry squeaks
arose from the pile as his horse’s hoof dislodged a board.

While I’m not opposed to hunting, even I
won’t eat a rat I find here. I’m afraid of what they have been
eating
, Marrow told her as he skirted wide around the refuse,
eyeing the rats with suspicion.

“I don’t blame you,” she said, feeling a bit
sick. She could see an arm protruding from the bottom of the pile
and from the size of it the owner hadn’t been very old. “There are
bodies in the streets,” she said quietly, looking to Finn.

“It only gets worse the farther in we go,
Jala. We can turn back now and come back when we are prepared to
fix things,” He offered.

“No, I want to see it,” she said, hardening
her resolve.

“Where exactly is Sovann planning to relocate
himself here. I hope it’s near the entry gate or he will likely be
dead in a week,” Valor said quietly.

“He says he found a good place on Breaker
Street near the old market. He has already moved into it from what
I understand,” Finn said, keeping his voice low as well.

Valor frowned and glanced at Finn quickly
before turning his attention back to the darkened alleys they were
riding past. “Isn’t Breaker street part of the old Slave quarter?”
he asked.

“I really couldn’t tell you. I had no
dealings with Merro when the country still existed. I hated Merro.
In truth, I wouldn’t even buy anything made by their craftsmen,”
Finn replied with a shrug.

“Life is ironic isn’t it?” Valor said with a
snort of amusement and glanced at Jala.

“Why are there so many children here and no
sign of parents? They can’t all be orphans can they?” Jala asked as
she watched yet another child disappear into an alley.

“Gutter rats. The streets are thick with
them. Most of the time they are unwanted children of whores but
occasionally it’s a case of their parents simply dying and they had
nowhere else to go. All of the poor districts are filled with them.
It’s not just Merro,” Finn explained.

“There are too many orphans in Sanctuary. Our
world is a dangerous place and it’s far too easy to die here,
especially for the commons,” Valor said with a sigh.

“I want to build them a place to go,
somewhere they can sleep and get food and feel safe,” Jala said,
her eyes already searching for a building that would serve.

“I doubt there is anywhere you can make them
feel safe, Jala. They have grown used to living on the streets.
They will never feel safe,” Finn said gently and motioned toward a
child with wide eyes watching Marrow pass. “That one is trying to
decide if the Bendazzi is going to eat him, or if he can eat the
Bendazzi.”

“Run Marrow,” Valor urged quietly gaining a
low growl from Marrow.

At the noise, the boy disappeared back into
the alley and their group fell silent as they rode. The district
grew progressively worse as they neared the center, with the
rambling buildings gradually giving way to burned out ruins and
shacks built from whatever the occupants could find available. She
could feel eyes on her as they passed and Marrow paced with a
continuing growl echoing from him. Glancing at Finn, she saw his
hand resting lightly on his sword and frowned. Flicking her gaze to
the right, she saw Valor rode in the same posture with his hand
loose over his long sword.

“We can go. I’ve seen enough. Whatever is
left to see, Sovann can tell me about,” she said quietly and both
men wheeled their horses with obvious relief.

“So glad to hear you say that. I’m not a
coward but I don’t want to be here when evening falls,” Valor said
quietly.

“It will be different soon,” Jala said, the
words more of a promise to herself than any reassurance to the men
she rode with.

“It will be,” Finn agreed and gave her a
smile.

“Because it certainly can’t get worse,” Valor
said with a nod. “I need a drink or a bottle. I can’t decide which.
I think the bottle. Gods above, but this place is wretched. Makes
you glad for what you have, doesn’t it?”

“This could have been my fate,” Jala said
quietly, fully aware of how close she came to living in filth and
squalor. If not for Victory and Havoc she likely would have starved
or been a gutter orphan in Brannaford if she had made it that far
alone.

“But it wasn’t, and now you can improve
theirs,” Finn said and took her hand gently in his own.

She glanced at him and smiled weakly at his
attempts to cheer her and noticed that he had dropped his reins
rather than release his hold on his sword. Nodding slightly, she
squeezed his hand and forced herself to smile wider. “Thank you,
Finn,” she whispered.

“There is a man on the roof watching us,
Finn, to your left,” Valor whispered, his voice barely carrying
over the steady thump of the horses hooves.

“Don’t look, Jala. He has been watching us
since we got here. I’m amazed he let you see him, Val,” Finn said,
not turning his attention anywhere but the road ahead of them.

“You knew he was there?” Valor asked
incredulously.

“It’s Hemlock. Just keep riding,” Finn said
and Valor urged his horse into a faster walk.

“Why is he watching us?” Jala asked quietly.
Even she knew who the leader of the Nightblades was.

“Most likely he is curious or he has a
contract on one of us. Regardless, if he was going to do something
even I wouldn’t have noticed him,” Finn said calmly. “Still, it is
never a good idea to look directly at him. He takes it as an insult
or a sign of disrespect.”

Nodding, she continued to ride and prayed to
Fortune it was simple curiosity. She had read and heard stories
about Hemlock. In every tale, when he had a contract the victim
didn’t live or return to life through magic. What Hemlock killed,
stayed dead.

Fionahold

“I’m pleased you could make it,” Symphony
said as she fell into step beside the large red haired man. He was
dressed in dark colors as always, with a flowing cloak concealing
most of him. The hood was down allowing her to see the dark
expression on his handsome face. “The council waits in the next
room along with two scouts that have just returned from Eldagar. I
believe you know one of them,”

“There aren’t many Fionaveir I don’t know,”
Kiernan Morcaillo said with a faint smile. He always had a way of
making his smiles seem anything but friendly. No matter the
occasion, there was always a faint coldness to the expression.

“This one you know better I think,” she said
and pushed open the heavy wooden door leading to the council room.
Caspian, Faramir, and Lutheron sat at their customary table while
Vaze and Remedy sat at another, sharing a pitcher of ale. In the
back of the room at a table by himself sat Shade while Charm
lounged in the rafters above. She moved aside from the doorway and
allowed Kiernan to pass, drawing stares from all in the room. It
was unusual to have so many council members together at once and
even more unusual to bring to the meeting a man not even in the
Fionaveir.

“Have good news for us?” Vaze asked, his
voice a slow drawl common to the southern region of Morcath, though
Symphony knew for a fact he rarely ever set foot in that country.
His hair was a dark grey which hinted at Arovan blood while his
eyes were so dark they appeared black. No one was quite sure what
Vaze was, other than a talented fighter as far as she knew. There
were, of course, rumors about him, but Lutheron was the only one
that truly knew. He had brought Vaze to the Fionahold when he was
barely days old and had raised him like a son.

Remedy, on the other hand, everyone knew
well. He was Han’shy and Avanti by birth a highly unusual
combination that he had proven could be quite dangerous. With equal
skill in Mind magic as well as Enchantment the young man was
formidable.

Kiernan paused in the center of the room and
let his gaze fall across everyone there. Turning at last to Vaze,
he shook his head slightly and then looked at Caspian. “It’s not
her. I’ll stake my life on it,” he said bluntly.

“What makes you so sure?” Caspian asked
leaning back in his seat.

“I’ve been watching the house for months and
what I’ve seen has been pathetic. It’s what I would expect from
poorly written street theatre. Every time I hear Myth planning, I
expect it to be followed with dramatic maniacal laughter. It simply
isn’t her way. Myth wouldn’t be so blatant,” Kiernan explained.

“Wait, her who?” Shade asked leaning forward
with a confused look on his face. His voice drew dark looks from
the council at his interruption but his eyes were only on
Kiernan.

“Myth,” Kiernan replied patiently and sighed
at seeing his nephew’s confusion grow. “Mythandry, or as you know
her, Mythandar. My sister,” Kiernan explained patiently.

“What?” Shade exclaimed in shock. He shook
his head and stared at his uncle as if expecting the man to chuckle
and say he was joking.

“Mythandry was born a woman but chose to turn
to male after the fall of her bloodline. A woman can only produce a
child once every several months depending on the species. A male
can procreate much more effectively,” Lutheron said impatiently and
motioned for Kiernan to continue.

“Myth is pure changeling, Shade. Whatever a
true changeling becomes, they in essence are. Be it switching
gender or species, we function as that form was intended to,”
Kiernan spoke gently to him but quickly turned back to
Lutheron.

Symphony watched the exchange quietly and
felt a pang of sympathy for the boy. His entire life had been
rearranged in the past few weeks and it seemed he still had quite a
few surprises in store. Moving quietly across the room she took a
seat beside Remedy and smiled up at the auburn haired man. He was
her closest friend in the Fionahold ,though she had rarely gotten
to see him recently.

“I won’t move at all until I know where the
true Myth is. She is too dangerous. I’m not sure what exactly she
is playing at, but that creature in Morcath isn’t her. She could be
anywhere,” Kiernan continued, his eyes flicking from face to face
in the room.

Lutheron nodded slowly and scanned those
present. “She isn’t here, I will promise you that,” he said
quietly.

“How can you be sure?” Kiernan asked, his
tone skeptical.

“I can sense some type of fear from everyone
here, I have never been able to sense fear on Mythandry and I have
been close enough to her several times to try. She is the one
individual other than myself that I can say is fearless,” Lutheron
explained.

“Do we have any guesses as to where she might
be?” Symphony asked quietly, watching all of their faces. Most were
blank but Lutheron looked thoughtful while Kiernan simply seemed
guarded as usual.

“From what I know of Myth, she will be where
she believes the most action will be. That puts her one of two
places - here, or Sanctuary,” Lutheron said and looked to
Kiernan.

“The one thing I’ve learned of my sister in
our years together is to never try to predict what she will do. It
was hard enough to guess her next move before her mind fractured.
Now it is nearly impossible,” Kiernan said with a shrug. “What have
you learned from Gaelyn?” he asked, looking to Caspian. “I do
believe Myth was involved in that plot, though not actually
directing it. Perhaps if I learn what she has helped create, I’ll
get a better idea of what she is after,”