The Cost of Betrayal

29

C ome on,” Tarlak said, rising from the table. “We all need a break. Four nights straight searching for our suddenly vanished killer, it is enough to wear anyone out.” He glanced to where the shadow form of Qurrah had been. “That sure isn’t helping, either.”

“What I need is sleep,” Harruq said.

“A caravan from Mordeina arrived yesterday,” the wizard insisted. “Exotic wines, a few nifty toys, and some new clothes. We can find something for everyone.”

“Let’s go, Harruq,” Aurelia said, nudging her husband in the side. “Or are you afraid of a little shopping?”

“Not much for wine,” Brug muttered, “but I’ll take a chance for some good old Kerish ale snuck in among the bunch.”

“And healing salve for burns,” Haern said. He offered everyone a wink. “They actually feel quite fine. Delysia, you’re a goddess.”

“Only close,” the priestess said, blushing.

“Well, you all can go without me,” Harruq said. “I’m going to take a long, long nap.”

“You don’t want to go?” Aurelia asked, looking offended.

“How many times I got to say the word ‘nap’?”

“Well, fine,” the elf said. “Stay and mope then. I’m going. When do we leave?”

“Right now,” Tarlak said. He took out a brown bag tied with a white string at the top. It jingled when he shook it. “And unless any of you get too crazy, I’ll be buying.”

Haern smiled, and Brug cheered. The mercenaries got up to leave. Only Harruq remaining seated at the table, picking over scraps of his meal. The mercenaries filed out the door, but before she left, Aurelia leaned next to her husband one last time.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” she asked.

“Someone’s got to stay with Aullienna,” he said, meeting her eyes briefly.

“Try to cheer up,” she said, kissing his cheek. “I always need your strength. I’m not as tough as I look.”

He gave her a slight smile and kissed her back.

“I’ll try,” he said.

“Thank you.”

She left to join the others. Harruq waited until the door shut, then stood. He climbed the stairs, one heavy step at a time. Perhaps he was depressed, but he was tired, very tired, and the allure of sleep was a strong one. When he reached the top he paused, took a breath, and stepped inside. Aullienna looked down from her bed, her face devoid of emotion.

“Hey, Aully,” he said, dropping his swords to the ground. He unbuckled his armor, casting it carelessly to the grass. He watched her as he placed his hands in a fist and popped his back. “Sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

The little girl shook her head, still staring at him.

“That’s fine,” he said, lumbering to his bed. “I’ll be napping. Need anything, just wake me, alright?”

She didn’t nod. No surprise, really. He had begun to recognize a few moods. This was her apathetic one. He probably could have stripped naked, set himself on fire, and done a dance before getting a reaction. The half-orc sighed. At least she wasn’t screaming or cowering in fear.

“Nighters,” he said, sliding under the sheets and burying his head into a pillow. He tossed, he turned, and he groaned and sighed. A few more tosses and turns later, he succumbed. His eyes rolled back, his breathing slowed, and precious sleep came.

Aullienna watched him, strangely intrigued. She recognized him, and some part knew him as a protective and loving figure, but she knew this like she knew that a fall would hurt her, or if she tried to eat the grass in the room it would dissolve into nothing in her mouth. Her interest in the sleeping man passed. Boredom came next. All she could remember was this same, bland room. Grass she could not tear. Sky that was always the same, with nothing to see in the clouds. Wind that was always soft.

She climbed down the stairs from her bed, careful to be silent. She didn’t want to wake the sleeping man. When she reached the ground, she paused. The wildness in her eyes ruined an otherwise adorable image of her crouched like a kitten in the grass. When the sleeping man did not move, she crossed over the grass as quick as her tiny legs could go before dashing down the stairs.

She wanted grass that was grass. It didn’t make any sense to her, but few things did, lately. She paused in front of Brug’s room, where the scattered pieces of armor and weapons looked like a wicked forest where the leaves cut skin and the trunks gleamed in the daylight. The little girl giggled. That was what she wanted. Trees. Leaves. A forest.

When she reached the bottom floor of the tower, Aullienna rushed for the door. She stood on her tippy-toes, her tiny fingers slipping around the handle. She more fell than pulled, but her weight was not enough. Angry, she kicked the door, the obstacle to her freedom. No matter how much she stretched, she could not reach high enough. She was trapped inside the stupid, boring tower.

Suddenly, she heard a rattling sound. The door shook, and then with a loud creak, it opened. Chilly air swirled inside. Aullienna beamed. Smells, true smells, filled her nose. Dew, grass, and in the distance, a forest.

The door opened all the way, spilling sunlight into the room. She squinted to see. Before the door, his red eyes gleaming, his black robes flowing in the wind, stood Velixar.

“Where might you be going?” he asked.

In answer, she put a finger to her mouth and shushed him.

“Sleeping man won’t want me to go,” she said.

“But you want to go, don’t you?” She bobbed her head up and down, fascinated with how the stranger’s face kept changing. “I thought so.”

He knelt down and put his hands around her. She shivered at his touch.

“Back there is a pretty forest,” the man in black said. “It is a special forest. You see, the faeries live there. Do you want to see them?”

“Promise you won’t tell the sleeping man?” Aullienna asked.

“I promise. Now go play, and watch for the faeries.”

She gave him a shy smile, turned, and then ran around tower. At the sight of the forest, she forgot all about the strange man in black. To her mind, the forest sparkled in purples and reds, a magical place full of adventure. There would be no gibbering goblins in there. Only faeries, beautiful ones with hummingbird wings and sparkling dust marking their trail through the air. She ran, wild, free. Her foot stubbed a rock, and she fell. Her hands scraped against the ground, yet she felt no pain. The forest lost its allure for a brief moment, lost to the mesmerizing view of blood trickling down her palm.

Curious, she licked it. The dirt was nasty, but beneath was a sweet taste that filled her with energy. She ran for the forest.

H arruq awoke with a need he was immediately angry for not dealing with before he lay down to rest. Grumbling, he staggered out of bed and reached for his chamber pot. As he did, he saw the door was open. He stood there, looking at it, as he thought this should alarm him. Why would a door alarm him? It was open. Did that mean something?

“Aullienna,” he said, much of the drowsiness leaving him. He looked about the room, calling his daughter’s name.

“Aullienna?”

He checked her bed, he checked the corners, he checked underneath everything. She was gone. He screamed her name as he ran down the stairs, all the while telling himself to calm down. The only place she could hurt herself was in Brug’s room, and it wasn’t like he was dumb enough to leave his…

But of course that door was open too. He looked inside.

“You in here, Aullienna?”

He saw nothing and heard nothing. The mess on the floor looked undisturbed, if that was even detectable in that wreck of a room. He bypassed the other closed doors to the bottom floor. His heart stopped when he saw the main door flung wide open.

“You came and got her,” he said, anger flushing into him. “You just came and…”

No. He couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t. Perhaps he meant to cure her, if he had even taken her at all. Or maybe she went out on her own. It was possible. Probable. The half-orc bolted outside, immediately wishing he had at least thrown on his cloak. The thin clothing he wore beneath his armor was little comfort against the wind. He looked around the open grass and dirt path leading toward Veldaren. Nothing.

“Where’d you go?” he asked, spinning around. He had no clue how long he’d slept, or how long she had been gone. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours.

“Aullienna!” he screamed, cupping his hands to his mouth. Around the tower he went, scanning all about. When he saw the forest, he felt his stomach churn. If Qurrah had taken her, that was where they were.

“She just wandered in,” he said, desperate to believe. “She just wandered in, that’s all.”

He ran into the forest, repeatedly calling his daughter’s name. Harruq’s former master watched him run from his hiding place.

“I’m sorry, wayward son,” Velixar whispered. “I only do what must be done.”

He had spoken those words many times, but for the first time in ages, they felt hollow to him.

T he forest was better than she had hoped. Much better. Everything swirled in rainbow colors. The leaves weren’t green. They were orange and red and purple, and every other color, except green. That was boring.

Animals wandered by, saying hello as they passed. She said hello back to every one. Mommy and daddy had raised her to be polite, after all. The little girl had no clue how far into the forest she had gone, but that didn’t matter. The forest was better than that stupid little room. She never wanted to go back. Never ever.

“Run, kitty kitty,” she sang, prancing through the bushes. “Big dog coming, and he’s coming for you!”

She fell into leaves, giggling madly. She dragged her arms and legs across the ground, swimming in the colors. She felt so bubbly, so light, that if she jumped high enough she’d just float into the air and fly away. So she tried. Sadly, she fell back into the leaves, banging down on her knee. She wiped the blood onto her hand and kissed it. Kisses made everything better.

“Aullienna!”

She turned, hearing the voice. It was the sleeping man, except now he wasn’t sleeping. That meant he wanted to take her back to her room. She ran in the opposite direction of his voice. A new sound met her ears, and she so desperately wanted to see what it was. It was a constant rushing sound. It had to be water. She climbed a log, a mountainous obstacle blocking her path. With a cry of victory, she leapt off. The way was clear. She ran to the noise, beaming at a small stream flowing through her forest of magic.

“I see me!” she said, peering down into the water. She waved hello. Herself waved hello back. Both giggled. Then, deep behind her reflection in the water, she saw lights. They were quick and subtle. Every time she jerked her eyes to see, they were gone. Faeries, she thought. The stranger was right!

She reached into the water to grab them, but her hands were too slow.

“Stop moving,” she whined. She reached again, but they zipped deeper. She knelt closer, her concentration complete. A thrill surged through her. She caught one! Aullienna yanked her hand back out, but it was a frog, dull and yellow. It leapt off her hand back to the safety of the water.

Aullienna did not see a frog. She saw a blue pixie beckon after her, leaping into her watery world with a trail of dust tinkling atop the stream. She followed with a smile on her face, for she wished to see the world of faeries.

W here are you?” Harruq cried, doing his best to fight off panic. She could have wandered anywhere. If she got lost, and night came, he’d never…

“Aurelia can find her,” he said, remembering her abilities with magical portals. “She could take us right to her.”

This calmed him a little. He slowed from a run to a jog, searching for signs of passage. As he charged through some bushes, he found a thick pile of flattened leaves.

“You around here, baby?” he asked, glancing about. He could hear a stream in the distance. Perhaps she was there.

D eeper and deeper she went, her eyes open under the water. Much of it was so muddy, so brown, it couldn’t be the world of faeries. They had to live beyond, deeper in. She kept swimming, kept pushing, following the twinkling dust that had begun to fade. She cried out for the faerie, her voice a weird echo in her head. The creature did not return to her. Desperate, she hurried faster, into the world of light that she began to see. She swam harder, until the world grew brighter, and she knew she neared the faerie land. She sucked in water, mostly out of instinct. Passing through the dust of the faerie had helped her, she knew. She could breathe water. And so she did, ignoring the retching of her chest, ignoring everything, everything except the twinkling lights that grew forever stronger until they enveloped her very being. The land was golden, the song was eternal, and seeing it, she smiled.

H arruq stumbled to the stream, scanning its length. Perhaps she was playing. The water was bound to be cold, but she had done stranger things. He took a few steps, glanced down, and then his world stopped.

Floating face down in the water was his daughter. She twirled in the pull of the stream, her head swaying from side to side. Bits of mud and moss were in her hair. Her hands floated beside her, pale and lifeless. Her entire body moved only with the water.

The half-orc cried out. He plunged into the water, took hold of her shoulders, and yanked her out. He felt her body sink into his arms, her head rolling to one side. Her eyes were open, as was her mouth. Her eyes did not blink. She did not breathe.

“Aully,” he pleaded, nearly crushing her against his chest. He brushed a shaking hand across her face, pulling away the hair that stuck to her cheek. “Please, Aully, please no, don’t, please, don’t…”

He fought the stream, pushing to the shore. Cold water ran down his arms and chest. His eyes lingered on her lips, blue as the sky above. She felt so tiny in his arms, and yet so heavy. A lump in his throat swelled, and his eyes clouded with tears so that he could not look upon her face. He shrieked again, running his arm across his eyes to banish them.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered down to her. “Forgive me. I’m so sorry.”

He hugged her. Water spilled from her mouth and across his chest. It was colder than anything he had ever felt before. The world remained frozen. Only he seemed to move at all. He carried her back to the tower, the longest trek he would ever take.

D eep within the forest, Tessanna cried out, grief and horror mixed into one terrible sob.

“What is it?” Qurrah asked, taking her into his arms.

“The girl is dead,” she sobbed, clawing at his chest. “I saw it, she’s dead. You killed her, you killed her!”

He did not stop her as she dug her nails into his chest so hard that blood flowed. He only held her tight as the shock of what had happened overcame him. He tried to say something, to say anything, but no words would come. They just would not come.

W hen the mercenaries returned to find the door to the tower open, they knew something was wrong. They set down their bags of trinkets, wine and ale.

“Did Harruq go somewhere?” Tarlak asked. Aurelia shrugged. Fear nagged at her, some nameless worry, so she did not rush up the stairs to check. She cast a divination spell to see her husband in her mind’s eye.

She suddenly cried out, startling the rest. She turned and fled out of the tower. Tarlak and the others followed, so surprised it took them a moment to realize she had even left. Around the tower Aurelia went, running for the forest as fast as her elven grace allowed. Staggering out from the trees came her husband, their daughter in his arms.

“Harruq!” she cried, flying over the grass. Her husband looked up at her, his eyes lifeless. She saw that look and knew. She did not need words, she did not need to see the way Aullienna’s arms hung lifeless beside her, or how her neck slumped in an unnatural way. She knew. She stopped running, her hands going up to cover her mouth, squelching a moan.

The half-orc stumbled. Tears streamed down his face. Less than ten feet away, he fell to his knees and cradled the girl to his chest.

“She’s dead,” he said, and then the sobbing came. It erupted from the center of him, great and powerful. He tried to speak, to say something, but he could not. Aurelia knelt before him, her slender fingers caressing her daughter’s face.

“How?” she managed to ask.

“She drowned,” he said, fighting for control. He placed her on the grass in front of him, unable to bear the weight any longer. The rest of the mercenaries came running, falling silent at the sight. Tarlak’s face flushed the deepest red. Delysia let out a startled cry before turning away. Harruq stood, looked to his wife, and then took her in his arms. He needed her. More than ever, he needed her. The two embraced, each quietly crying.

At last he could cry no more, for an easier feeling, one he knew well, overcame Harruq.

“He killed her,” he said. Aurelia gave no reaction, so he said it again. The words made him better somehow. “He killed her.” He pulled back, looked her in the eye, and said it one more time. “He killed her.”

“Don’t go,” she said, but he already was. He marched past the others, heading for where his armor and swords lay scattered across the bedroom floor.

“Where are you going?” Haern dared ask.

“I’m going to kill him,” Harruq turned and screamed. “I’m going to make him pay.”

“We need to talk,” Tarlak said. Harruq ignored him. He rushed for the tower, putting his daughter behind him. He could bear that image no more. He heard his wife call his name but he fought against it. Sorrow was for another time. Vengeance was now.

Then she took his wrist in her hands. He whirled around, fury raging in his eyes. Aurelia did not back down, even as the pain filled her face.

“Please, don’t go,” she pleaded. “I need you. Please.”

“He killed my daughter!” he shouted.

“She was my daughter too,” she said. A tear ran down past her nose and fell to the ground. “Can’t you see? She was our daughter.”

He nodded. More tears came to his eyes.

“I just, Aurry, I…” The anger melted away. His grief lost its razor-edge, fading down to a constant throb.

“We need to build a pyre,” she said. Harruq nodded and sighed. His shoulders sagged.

“I’ll make one out back,” he said. “I guess tonight we’ll…we…”

“We’ll give her body back to nature,” Aurelia said, trying to be strong. “Her soul has moved on. The pyre will make her as she was.”

“She’ll never be as she was,” Harruq said. To this Aurelia only clutched him tighter. The cold wind blew, the couple mourning amidst it as deep in the woods two more lovers suffered much the same.