The Cost of Betrayal

26

A urelia stepped out, her heart sinking. The doors to the tower were splintered and broken. It took little imagination as to why.

“Brug!” she shouted, nearly wrenching an ankle running over the debris. She found him slumped in the middle of the floor, drool on his chin.

“Oh, Brug,” she whispered, stroking his face with her hand. She left him there, praying he could be made well. She dashed up the stairs, her staff clutched tightly in her hands. If she met Qurrah, she knew it would come to spells. The elf swore she would be ready.

Had she looked carefully, she would have seen a patch of shadow by the fire deeper than it should have been. She might have even seen a pair of eyes leering out at her with purest contempt. But she did not, so unseen Qurrah slipped out of the tower and into the pouring rain.

At the top of the steps, Aurelia paused, her fears realized in the form of a slightly ajar door. The world silent in her ears, time a forgotten notion, she pushed open the door.

“Aullienna? Baby, are you there?”

From up in her bed Aullienna turned and smiled at her.

“Mommy!”

“Is everything alright?” Aurelia asked, scanning the room as she made her way toward the stairs. “Are you alone?”

“Uncle was here,” the little girl beamed. “He read me a story.” Aurelia’s throat tightened, but she kept a straight face. She climbed the steps two at a time, desperate to hold her daughter.

“He did, did he?”

Aullienna nodded. “Look!”

She held out a small object in her hand. At first, Aurelia did not recognize it, but then it squirmed and raised its silvery tail. It was Qurrah’s scorpion, the gift Brug had made for him.

“Put that down, now!”

In response to the elf’s shout, it turned, raised its tail, and then buried its stinger into the little girl’s wrist.

“Aullienna!”

Aurelia lurched forward, slapping the thing off with the back of her hand. The scorpion fell to the grass and writhed on its back. Aurelia incinerated it with a small bolt of fire before it could right itself. She pulled Aullienna close, her hand tight on her wrist. She turned it upward to see. A trickle of blood marked the sting, but flowing in her veins could be any possible vile poison that scorpions possessed.

“Honey, do you feel alright?” she asked.

Aurelia knelt down, holding her girl’s head to command her gaze. Aulliena smiled as if she were completely unaffected.

“Pretty,” the little girl said. “Uncle made things pretty.”

“Pretty,” the elf said. “Is that so? Aullienna, we’re going to take you to a priest to get you healed. Come with mommy.”

“No!”

The girl suddenly shrieked, and her face turned icy and vile. She clawed at her mother like a captured animal. One of her slender fingernails jabbed against the side of Aurelia’s eye, cutting across her pupil.

Tears wet Aurelia’s face, and when she blinked, she could see blood.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, torn between anger, horror, and confusion. “Baby…”

In response, Aullienna howled like a rabid animal, then turned and leapt off her bed. Aurelia was so stunned she never even dove to stop her. The girl hit the ground on her shoulder and rolled. Aurelia flew after her, crying out her daughter’s name. She feared the worst, but Aullienna moaned. The wild bestial nature in which she had acted made Aurelia hesitate before reaching out her arm to her daughter.

“Love, please, I want to help you,” she said.

Aullienna looked up from the grass, tears in her eyes.

“I’m scared,” the little girl cried. “Please, uncle made me scared.”

Aullienna crawled to her mother’s lap. Sobbing, she buried her face into her dress. Aurelia stroked her hair, her heart broken.

“I’m scared mommy,” she cried. “I’m scared, please help, please, I’m scared, please…”

“Delysia will make you not scared,” Aurelia assured her. “I’m going to go get her. Do you want to come with me?”

“Don’t!” Aullienna wailed. “Don’t, don’t leave, don’t…”

Then the crying stopped. She fled away from her mother as if she had never met her before. Aurelia reached out a hand, only to watch her shy away.

“What did he do to you,” the elf whispered, tears still staining her eyes. She cast a spell over her daughter. At once, the little girl’s eyelids drooped, and she yawned long and loud. Curling up like a kitten, she fell asleep atop the illusionary grass. Aurelia took her in her arms and carried her into the separate bedroom. Flowers scattered from the covering as Aurelia placed her daughter’s body atop their bed. The elf kissed her cheek, then turned away.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. A blue portal ripped open in their room. Rain swirled in from the other side, accompanied by cold air that blew her dress and chilled her skin. A single glance back, and then she stepped inside.

T essanna’s first attack was a wave of serrated shadow with a sharp wedge leading. It tore down the street, leaving a great ditch in its wake. Everyone dove aside lest they be torn to pieces. Several of Antonil’s soldiers were not so quick. They broke like glass, blood pouring out in great spurts from their mutilated bodies. The other guards she gripped with her mind, assaulting each one with a bleed spell. Blood poured out their eyes, ears, mouths and nostrils. She reveled in their pain, and at the horror that came over the faces of the others.

“They are not worthy of my presence,” she mocked.

Haern rushed, beating Lathaar to the girl. He had felt the girl’s power firsthand, and knew the quicker he dispatched her, the better. Tessanna laughed at his approach, surrounding herself with a terribly familiar shield of fire.

“And you’re not worthy of mine,” Haern whispered. He rolled away from a quick blast of dark energy, tucked his legs, and then dove straight for her feet. Although her skin was tough as stone when it came to blades, she was still a frail girl, weighing less than a hundred pounds. Ignoring the biting fire, Haern swept his feet behind her ankles. He grit his teeth at the sudden impact against his shins. Tessanna cried out, the black wings vanishing as she fell.

She struck her fists, and the ground rippled like water. She hovered there as Haern danced for balance, knowing his window to strike was fleeting. Harruq neared, Antonil behind him. The half-orc prepared to hurl one of his swords, but he held it in hand when the assassin bore down on the girl. His sabers stabbed for her neck. The swords struck past her flesh, for the black ethereal wings returned, pushing the girl high into the air. The two collided. He screamed, fire leaping off her frame and onto his face and hands. Still he tried to pull back and stab, only to have her reach up and grab his wrists.

“Now burn,” she hissed. Fire tore from her eyes and seared his face. Haern felt his skin bubbling, the flesh rising up and peeling. He tucked his feet, ignored the burning on his face and the sudden heat on his heels, and shoved out of her grasp. He fell, only to be caught in Lathaar’s arms. Harruq and Antonil charged to either side of the floating girl, coordinating their attack in a desperate attempt to protect their injured friend. Tessanna righted herself and flapped higher, beyond the reach of their swords.

“Come face us, coward!” Antonil shouted, weakly striking his sword against his shield. Even the slight vibration increased the throbbing from his broken collarbone. Lathaar rushed back to Tarlak and laid Haern on the ground. Prayer on his lips, he placed his glowing hands against the vicious burns across Haern’s face.

“Be healed,” he whispered, hoping his meager abilities would suffice. Tarlak saw his most trusted friend so severely wounded and decided enough was enough. Tessanna so far refused to lower, instead flapping her black wings higher and higher.

“Time to fall, angel,” Tarlak said, pulling out a wand and activating its magic. He had tried to harm her with spells. Now it was time to try the opposite. Tarlak’s wand shattered, the powerful magic spent. Waves of anti-magic swarmed over the girl, dispelling all enchantments and effects. Her wings faltered, their magic broken. The fire faded from her flesh, revealing her pale skin and dripping wet hair. With nothing to keep her afloat, she fell, vulnerable and stunned. The two fighters awaited her below, their blades prepared for a killing stroke.

“Do not harm her!”

Antonil turned in surprise to the voice, but Harruq only felt his gut sink ever further. Qurrah had come. A wall of invisible force followed the shout, slamming both of them back. Tessanna hit the ground and gasped in pain. Down the street walked Qurrah, his whip wrapped about his arm in dark flame. His eyes seethed red. Darkness surrounded his other hand, the makings of another spell. A single black tendril shot out, feinted an attack, and then wrapped about Tessanna. He pulled her to him. She collapsed in his arms, sobbing in the rain.

“Qurrah,” she said, all her power leaving her. “Qurrah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”

“We’re leaving,” he said to her. To the others, he glared death and waited for someone to make a move. He half-expected the Guard Captain, or maybe his brother, but it was Tarlak who struck. A lance of ice flew across the street, the end jagged and impossibly sharp. Clenching his fist, Qurrah created a magical barrier, shattering the projectile. A second and third followed, each one suffering a similar fate. The half-orc chuckled.

“Is that all you can muster?” he asked. Tarlak cracked his knuckles.

“How about this then?” Fire curled inside his hands, growing larger and larger. He glanced to the two fighters, who stood wounded and weak.

Charge him, he thought, hoping they would get the idea. Every bit of power Tarlak poured into the fireball, draining his reservoir of magical energy. It flew from his hands like a giant comet, a great yellow tail trailing after. Air sizzled and smoke billowed. Qurrah took a step, braced his legs, and extended his right arm. The fireball hit the barrier and detonated, swarming over the shield but not crossing. Qurrah shuddered, his mind nearly blanking. He felt his protection cracking. Another spell would surely break it, but the fire was spent. The flame and smoke cleared, and Qurrah gasped for air.

“It is time to go,” he said to his lover.

“Into the shadows,” Tessanna said, breaking from his arms and running toward the nearest alley. Qurrah turned to follow, but his eye caught movement. Tarlak was on his knees, completely exhausted, and his brother stayed back, confusion evident on his face. The paladin still hovered over the wounded assassin. The Guard Captain, however…

Antonil charged, shield leading. Qurrah lashed out with his whip, taking the man’s feet out from under him. The fall jarred his shield. Antonil screamed in pain as he felt the broken pieces of his collarbone grind together. Qurrah turned to leave, but there was one other he had forgotten.

“Ashhur condemn thee!” Delysia shouted, having snuck around and then charged with Antonil. Holy light flashed from her hand, burning his sight like a dagger through each eye. He shrieked, thrusting his fingers forward and unleashing a blast of ice. The priestess struck the building behind her, ice freezing her wrists and chest to the wall. Staggering like a blind man, Qurrah followed his lover’s voice.

“Wait,” Harruq shouted, breaking out of his paralysis. He rushed after, only to see them step into a dark portal similar to Aurelia’s. “Damn it!” he screamed. He slammed a fist against a wall, fuming in mindless anger. “Why? What the abyss did we do?”

“Harruq,” he heard his leader call.

The half-orc turned, his swords sagging in his arms. Despite his anger, his guilt overtook him upon seeing his friends. Haern lay on the ground, obviously in pain. Delysia shivered in the rain and ice, her skin pale and her lips blue. He watched Antonil crawl onto his back, gasping for breath while tears streaked his face. And then there were the bloodied bodies of the guards…

“Harruq,” Tarlak said again, grabbing his attention. He pointed to where Delysia was stuck to the wall. “Break her free, will you? We need her spells.”

“Yeah,” Harruq said. He sheathed Condemnation and took Salvation into both hands. He smashed the ice with its hilt, spreading cracks with each blow. Delysia coughed, coming out of her daze.

“Haern,” she moaned. “Where’s Haern?”

“He’s fine,” the half-orc said, turning the blade around to slide it underneath the ice. He pulled, dislodging a large chunk. “Take a lot more than that to hurt ol’ sneaky. I bet dragons would quake if they knew he was coming to say hello.”

“And they would flee in terror from Tessanna,” she said, smiling half-heartedly.

“You didn’t flee,” Harruq said. His hits against the ice grew harder. “You came after them, while I just stood there.”

“Harruq…”

The half-orc shook his head, and the comment died on her lips. With most of the ice cracked and broken, he sheathed his sword. The rest he pulled off with his hands, ignoring the biting cold. With a soft cry, she fell forward, clutching him to stand.

“Easy,” he said. “Easy. Catch your breath.”

“I need to help them,” she said, pushing away. He let her go, feeling more helpless than ever before. She staggered toward Haern, only to halt beside Antonil. She said words to him, although he did not hear. Her hands took on the white glow of a healing spell, and three times she cast a spell on his chest. Tarlak checked on her, and then went to Harruq.

“Your brother…” he said, pointing to his sister and his friend. “Your brother did that, along with that Tessanna. Yet you never struck. You watched while my sister nearly killed herself to slow their retreat. You let Lathaar slay the creature. You let Haern burn against the girl. I expect better from you, Harruq. Worlds better.”

Lightning flashed, and in its light, Tarlak could see the anger burning inside Harruq’s eyes. Good, he thought. Let it burn. Something needed to wake him up. Something needed to force him to see. The wind picked up. Harruq opened his mouth to speak, but then a blue portal tore open behind them. They turned, Harruq realizing for the first time his wife had even left. When the elf dashed through, his words caught in his throat. Her eyes terrified him.

“Harruq!” she shouted, flinging her arms around him. He held her tight. She let his embrace calm her for a second before pushing away. “Qurrah broke into the tower,” she said. Her husband’s arms tightened around her waist.

“Is Aullienna…?”

“He poisoned her,” the elf said. “Please, I need Delysia, she needs to come back!”

“Take me to her,” the priestess said, still hunched over Antonil. She gave him a soft kiss on the forehead before standing. Her white robes were covered with mud and water, her hair was soaked to her skin, and exhaustion tainted her face. Somehow she remained regal. “Take me to her, and I will do what I can.”

“Thank you,” Aurelia said. She glanced back to the portal, which she had kept open. “Please, hurry. I don’t know how long she has.”

Harruq had heard enough. He dove into the portal. He had to see her. He had to see it for himself. His only thought was simple, plain denial.

He couldn’t have. Qurrah. His brother.

He couldn’t have.

A ullienna?” Harruq asked, fighting off a brief wave of disorientation as he rushed up the stairs and entered his bedroom. He saw her on their bed and hurried to her.

“Baby, wake up,” he said, shaking her tiny shoulders in his hands. Aurelia’s spell broke and her eyes fluttered open.

“I was a flower,” she giggled. Harruq sighed. Her skin was fine. Her temperature was normal. A smile was on his daughter’s face.

“You were a flower, were you?” he asked. Behind him, he heard Aurelia and Delysia enter. He brushed her cheek with his hand. He would pick her up and show them his brother would never stoop so low as to harm his only daughter. He would show them all was fine, that the chaos in the night was a misunderstanding. But a change hit, so sudden the half-orc never saw it. He only realized when the little girl reached up, grabbed his hand, and sank her teeth into the upper part of his thumb.

He screamed, yanking his hand back. She refused to lessen her grip. Blood spilled across her face, the bed, and his hand as his skin tore underneath her stubborn teeth. He pried her loose and held the bleeding thumb to his chest, gaping at his daughter.

“Aully,” the half-orc almost pleaded, tears in his eyes. “Why? Why did you do that?”

Aurelia was at his side, pulling him to her as she looked on.

“I don’t know what happened,” she said, her voice quivering. “Delysia, it must be a poison. I saw the scorpion sting her.”

“Scorpion?” Harruq asked.

“The one Brug made for him.”

Harruq pulled away, his temper fuming. “Brug did this? Where is he?”

“Downstairs,” the elf said. “He’s unconscious. Qurrah did something to him.”

Delysia stepped beside them, her eyes on the little girl. Aullienna watched her approach, her legs pulled to her chest, her little white eyes shaking with fear.

“Don’t,” she said, jerking away from the priestess’s gentle hand. “Please. You’ll hurt me.”

“I won’t hurt you,” Delysia cooed. “Please. I want to help.”

Tears filled Aullienna’s eyes, and it broke Harruq’s heart that he could not go to her.

“You can’t,” the little girl said. “You’ll make it worse.”

Delysia ignored her, whispering another prayer for a healing spell.

“You’ll make it worse!” Aullienna shouted, her voice shrill. “Worse, worse, you’ll make it worse!”

Delysia shoved her hand forward, the blue-white light pouring out. Aullienna shrieked. She slapped, she kicked, and she dove to the ground, curling into a tiny ball. There she whimpered like an injured dog.

“Whatever it is, I can’t cure it,” Delysia said to the terrified parents. “We need to take her to Calan. If anyone can save her, he can.”

“I’ll open us another port-”

She stopped, taking up her staff and preparing to strike. A shadow crawled up the wall. It remained flat against the mossy stone until widening into a perfect visage of Qurrah Tun. Harruq drew his swords, but Aurelia reached out and pushed them down.

“Just a shadow image,” she said, eyeing the spell. “What is it you come to tell us, wretch?”

“I seek a trade,” Qurrah said. His eyes looked distant and unfocused. “Lathaar knows of a tome I desire, one freed by his defeat of the demon, Darakken. Have him bring this to me and I will hand over the cure for your daughter.”

“You bastard,” Harruq said. “How could you? How?”

“Harruq?” the image asked, glancing toward the half-orc’s general direction. “I mean her no harm. Things will become sane soon, I promise. Everything will return to how it was…how it should be.”

The image faded, even as Harruq cursed his name. The three stood silently while Aullienna whimpered.

“To Calan?” Aurelia asked. The other two nodded. She glanced at her daughter and offered a weak smile. “I’m sorry, honey,” she said, casting another sleep spell. The whimpering faded. Harruq took her in his arms, his heart aching with pain and anger. A new portal ripped open. They took her to Calan.

Q urrah opened his eyes, the message given. He steadied himself against the wall, furious at his own weakness.

“I should not show you such compassion,” he said. “You have grown far too weak.”

They were still inside Veldaren, cowering like rats in a wretched slum. Tessanna remained at his side. She huddled in the rain, looking wet and miserable. He remembered the chaos she had sown and felt his anger rise.

“Why did you come?” he said. “You were to remain behind!”

“I didn’t want them to find you,” she explained. “I had to make sure your pet kept them busy. You had to succeed. You had to.”

Qurrah slumped against the building.

“How many did you hurt?” he asked. “How many did you kill?” She turned away, her chin tucked down. Her hair hid her face. “Aullienna was to grant us the tome, Tessanna! Now you’ve hurt them, nearly killed them! What if they seek vengeance? What if they fear you more than they desire the girl to live?”

“I wanted to help,” the girl shrieked, nearly choking with sobs. “Please, you wouldn’t let me help, but I want to help! I want to see her one more time!”

The half-orc turned and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her crying into his chest, and his anger broke.

“All is well,” he said. “We have not killed any dear to them. They will forgive you, and me. I just need the spellbook. With it, all will be made right.”

Tessanna sniffled. “And if they don’t give it to us?”

“They will. I know my brother. He would do anything for those he loves.”

The girl was not sure if he meant himself or the girl. Perhaps it didn’t matter.

“I want to go home,” she said.

“As do I. Night and rain will be ending soon. Let us go.”

The two slunk off to the western wall, crossing to the other side through a door of shadow. Once again, they retreated to their sanctuary within the King’s Forest.