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
