The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes by Melissa Myers Page A

Jala leaning on the horse, one leg
suspended behind her, to Valor’s rather ragged appearance, and made
a clicking noise with her tongue. “Not what I expected in
champions, but I suppose you will do,” she sighed and gave a slight
shrug.
    “Champions?” Jala asked, unsure exactly what
the woman was talking about. They were not champions of any cause
other than rescuing Finn.
    “You will both need rest before you face the
Dark lady. Come. I will show you to relative safety.” Fiona
motioned for them to follow and turned toward the trees without
another word.
    “Wait. We have no reason to hold faith in
you. Why should we follow?” Valor asked, challenge ringing in his
words.
    Fiona glanced back over her shoulder at him
and a faint smile creased her pale lips. “The smaller creatures are
at bay because of my presence. Once I leave they will attack.
Choose your odds, Arovan. One of me or hundreds of them,” she said
with a trace of amusement.
    Valor let his gaze sweep over the clustered
demons surrounding them and then looked back to Jala. “She makes a
valid point,” he said quietly and raised an eyebrow at her in
question.
    “Well, we at least have to figure out why she
is calling us Champions, don’t we.” Jala said with a sigh and
shrugged at him.
    “So we follow,” Valor agreed and moved to
help her onto the horse.
    “And quickly because she is still walking,”
Jala said, moving quickly to gain the saddle. Pain lanced through
her leg and she inhaled sharply. “A couple of minutes to heal would
have been nice,” she hissed.
    Valor nodded quickly and handed her the reins
before moving to follow Fiona. “Would have been, but apparently we
aren’t getting them. Let’s go.”
    “Wait. You aren’t riding? You are hurt too,”
Jala called after him. Valorous gave a soft snort and trotted along
behind his master. She could feel mild irritation through the
reins. Apparently she wasn’t the only one baffled by Valor
walking.
    “If there is a fight I’d rather be on foot
for it in this terrain,” Valor replied, and by the way his gaze was
fixed on Fiona’s back it was obvious who he expected to be
fighting.
    “Valor, she died over three hundred years
ago. Why is she still in the Darklands and why is she here for us?”
Jala asked, her words just loud enough to reach him.
    He shrugged in response. “I suppose we will
find out soon,” Valor replied. He lengthened his stride to gain
ground on Fiona, though the quick movement must have pained him. He
offered no complaint, however, and his expression remained
neutral.
     

     
    “Careful now,” Valor murmured as he helped
her down from the saddle.
    The ride had been a very lengthy and dull one
through rough terrain. Her ankle throbbed steadily as did the burn
on her wrist. Jala glanced past Valor irritably to where Fiona
stood waiting for them outside a small dark cave. “Thank you,
Valor,” she mumbled as she started to hobble toward the cave. The
path leading up to it was too narrow and steep even for the nimble
footed Arovanni.
    “Hold on a second,” Valor called after her
and she paused to look back to him. He had removed the bridle from
his horse and thrown it over his shoulder casually. Patting the
Arovanni on the neck he walked up behind her and without so much as
another word picked her up, one arm behind her back the other
behind her knees.
    Jala squirmed a moment and shook her head.
“Valor, I can walk,” she insisted. The thought of being carried
around like an invalid was humiliating. She squirmed in his arms
again trying to force him to set her back down.
    “On a broken ankle up a steep path with loose
rocks and moss. That seems like a disaster waiting to happen. Quit
squirming before you make me lose my footing and we both suffer for
it,” Valor snapped impatiently and continued the climb to the
cave.
    “I feel like an idiot being carried about,”
Jala objected again.
    “And you will look like one when I fall on
you and the