“Why?” he said. “What is it you fear from me?”
I beg you, as my brother…
“Qurrah?” Tessanna asked, seeing the troubled look on her lover’s face. “Is something wrong?”
I’m sorry for striking at you.
“I am fine,” he said, stumbling for the house. “I just…let me sit for awhile.”
He ran to the house, flinging open the door with a burst of magical power that splintered it down the middle. He collapsed into the chair beside the fire, cursing repeatedly. How dare his brother attempt to guilt him? How dare he?
“I don’t care if you know now,” he said, covering his eyes with his hands. “I do not care! I do this for her, not for myself.”
…just make her well…
The thought would not leave. He would do anything in the world for Tessanna. Harruq would do anything in the world for his daughter. Of course he would. So why did he refuse the book? What if they never brought it to him? The half-orc wrenched his head violently side to side. Was it possible? Did Aullienna suffer without reason? Without hope?
“Damn you, Harruq,” the half-orc said, burying his head in his hands. “You couldn’t let things go as they should. You never can.”
So many promises he had made. So many he might never keep.
A floorboard creaked. He glanced up to see Tessanna peering at him with an intolerably shy look on her face.
“When will I get to see Aullienna?” she asked. He glared, so fiercely, so heartlessly, that she stepped back. Tears swelled in her eyes.
“I knew it,” she seethed.
She fled from the house. Qurrah gave no chase. He had no words.
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.
