The Shadows of Grace (49 page)

“He promised us a life,” Qurrah said. “He promised.”

He gestured to their child.

“Is this the promise of Karak?”

“Don’t leave me,” Tessanna said between wracking sobs. “Please, don’t leave me.”

He knelt beside her, and into his pale, shriveled hands he took the baby’s small fingers. The pain inside him seemed unbearable. The sense of loss, beyond anything.

“What have I done to you, brother?” he dared ask. “Is this it?”

He stood. Tessanna lay there, blood pooled about her as if she were some sacrificial offering to a craven deity.

“Don’t go,” she pleaded.

“He promised,” Qurrah said, stumbling north. “I have to.”

The forest was red to him. Red with death. Red with anger. High above the stars were drops of blood, like that which covered his daughter, his divine curse. Everything he had done. Everything he had offered and lost. Cruel. Cruel and vicious and horrific. Someone had to pay. Someone had to suffer, as he suffered.

The trees suddenly cleared, and Velixar waited by a fire amid a circle of stones. He stood, and at the look in his disciple’s eyes he knew something had gone terribly wrong.

“What happened?” he asked.

Qurrah did not answer. Instead, he hurled a bolt of shadow at Velixar’s chest. Stunned, Velixar staggered back as the magic crushed his bones and tore into his rotting flesh. The second bolt, however, he did block, batting it aside with his hand as his glowing eyes glared in the darkness.

“How dare you strike at me?” Velixar said. “Tell me what happened!”

“You are a liar!” Qurrah shouted. Purple flame poured from his fingers. Velixar crossed his arms and summoned a shield. The fire rolled across it, unable to penetrate. Qurrah’s whip lashed out next, cracking across the shield with loud sparks of flame. Velixar released his protection, leaped away from the whip, and then clapped his hands. Shadows shot like arrows from the sky, each one piercing Qurrah’s flesh and dissolving into mist that flooded his body with pain. Qurrah ignored it with ease. He had felt more pain that he had ever thought imaginable. A few stinging darts meant nothing.

He braced his wrists together and stretched his fingers. A solid beam of magic shot forth, sparkling with stars and planets of a lost galaxy. Velixar crossed his arms and raised them high. A wall of stone tore from the ground. The beam shattered it like glass. Velixar rolled, barely dodging the beam, which continued on through several trees, exploding their trunks and burning their leaves. The trees collapsed, and from their branches the grass set fire. Smoke billowed as the two glared, their forms demonic in the flickering red and yellow light.

“When have I lied?” Velixar asked as he staggered to his feet. “I promised you Tessanna would conceive, and she did!”

“The child was dead!” Qurrah shouted back. “You promised us a lie. A cruel joke. Everything you are, everything you claim, is a lie or a joke.”

“I am the only truth this world has ever known,” Velixar roared. He grabbed a clump of dirt and threw it. The dirt melted into a black goop that burst into flame, slamming into Qurrah’s chest with the force of a bull. Qurrah collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and rolling along the grass to put out the fire.

“What truth do you know?” Velixar asked. “Tell me, oh wise one.”

“Truth?” Qurrah gasped on his hands and knees. “I know one. My brother loved me, and I hurt him more than I ever knew.”

“Your brother,” Velixar said, throwing his hands up in disgust. “He was weak, a fool. He turned his back on the both of us, Qurrah, you once knew that as well as I!”

Qurrah stood and raised his hands high. Spells slipped through his lips. All around the fire grew in strength, fully surrounding them. It was as if they were in their own personal piece of the Abyss, reserved just for them. From within the fire, bones tore up from the ground, the remains of many sacrificed hundreds of years ago in the name of Karak. Gripping them in his mind, he flung them like spears at Velixar.

Karak’s prophet made a noise akin to a growl as the bones smacked into his face and chest. He pointed at Qurrah, his patience ended.

“
Hemorrhage,
” said Velixar.

Qurrah gasped as a large portion of his chest exploded in a shower of blood. He collapsed to his knees, his arms clutched tight against his body. He tried to cast a spell, but his head was dizzy, his vision blurred through tears and exhaustion.

“Kill me,” Qurrah said as Velixar approached. “Kill me, and let the weight of the portal crush you as well. I am too damn tired for this.”

Velixar paused, fighting for words.

“I promised you a child,” he finally said. “But even I do not hold the gift of life. If it was denied to you, then it was denied to you by Celestia, or Ashhur,
not by me
.”

Qurrah wiped tears from his eyes, smearing blood across his face.

“I will never trust a word you say,” Qurrah said, glaring through his blurred vision.

Velixar shook his head as he stood.

“Such a shame,” he said. “Suffer however you wish. This world is almost ended. I have no time for your doubt and self-pity.”

He turned and walked through the fire, and he was not burned. Qurrah got to one knee, took a deep breath, and stood. His heart pounded in his ears. He wasn’t sure which way was south. He closed his eyes, and in his heart he begged Tessanna to help him. When he looked again, the fire had parted before him. He hurried through, still clutching his chest. He ran past trees when he saw them, and stumbled off of them when he didn’t. His mind was desperate. He had to get to her. He had to hurry.

When he found her she still held their child in her arms. She was crying.

“You left me,” she cried when he returned. “How could you leave me?”

He stumbled to her side, buried his face in her neck, and held on for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, feeling consciousness fading fast. “Please, Tess, I’m so sorry.”

And then he saw nothing, heard nothing, but in his dreams, he still felt the pain. It seemed no matter what, he would never escape it.

He dreamt of their child, never even given a name.

Q
urrah awoke covered with a cold sweat. His chest felt like ants crawled just underneath his flesh, biting and digging. It was still dark, the stars hidden by branches.

“It hurts to move,” he heard Tessanna say to him. He shifted closer to her on the dirt, resting his head against her chest.

“We’ll be all right,” he told her.

“She needs to be buried,” Tessanna said.

At this Qurrah turned over and looked at his lover. The dead child was still in her arms, completely wrapped in the torn cloak. It was a tiny, pitiful package.

“I’ll do it,” Qurrah said. He got on one knee, then clutched the dirt as a wave of dizziness assaulted him. He fought it away. So what if he’d lost a lot of blood. He’d lost more before, and he had no time for weakness. He stood, took a few steps away from the tree, and saw a patch of soft earth.

“I have nothing to dig with,” he said, glancing back to his lover.

“Your hands,” she said.

He fell to his knees and started digging. Rocks tore at his soft skin, and his fingernails cracked as they dug into the cold ground. He ignored the pain. At one point a jagged edge of a stone cut into his finger, and as his blood dripped into the grave he found it oddly fitting. At last he stood, curled his arms against his chest, and nodded to the dead child.

“Give her to me,” he said.

She offered the bundled cloak, and he took it, sickness growing in his stomach as he felt how little it weighed. Tears ran down his face, along the scars he had cut, determined reminders at how he had sworn to cry no more for his brother, to weep no more for his guilt and his loss. They seemed pathetic now, a ridiculous gesture. He might as well have stabbed himself in the heart.

Into the ground went the bundle. He returned the dirt to its hole, and all the while his gut groaned with anger and hurt.

“A fire,” Tessanna said when he finished. “Build a fire atop her grave.”

He had not the heart to argue or question her desire. He gathered a few branches and piled them together. A simple spell, and sparks flew from his fingers, setting the wood aflame. A shallow grave with a fire for a tombstone. Again, fitting.

“We have to name her,” he said as he watched the fire burn. Tessanna sat up, dragging her lower body as if she were paralyzed. She scooted back so she could lean against the tree, and as her head pressed against the bark she let her eyes linger on the fire.

“Teralyn,” Tessanna said, closing her eyes. “My mother's name. Let her die as Teralyn.”

“She can’t die,” Qurrah said, an ugly frown on his face. “She never lived.”

“She lived inside me!” Tessanna shouted, startling him. “Don’t you dare say that!”

He felt foolish and vile. “I’m sorry,” he said. He knelt beside the fire and spread his arms as if he were an offering. The heat washed over him. Silence followed for several long minutes. Any time the fire flickered or weakened Qurrah tossed another branch onto it and showered it with sparks. He had every intention on having it burn throughout the night. He felt he could live forever without sleep. His dreams, he didn’t remember them, but he remembered the horror chasing him when he awoke.

“What do we do now?” Tessanna asked, breaking the oppressive silence.

“Velixar lied to us,” Qurrah said.

“Do we turn against him?” she asked. She bit down on one of her nails and chewed. “He’s powerful. Not as much as he used to be, but neither are you. And if he dies, you die.”

“I can release my grip on the portal,” Qurrah said. “It will crush him if he tries to keep it open.”

“Then we won’t be able to escape,” she said. “We’ll be stuck here, forever, with mommy watching me and your brother hating you. Everyone will want us dead, Qurrah, everyone!”

She started sobbing.

“Then what do we do?” Qurrah asked. “Continue on with Velixar? Keep serving Karak? He has given us nothing and taken everything. I cannot live this life anymore. I would rather die.”

“Live for me,” Tessanna said. “Just for me. Can’t I be enough?”

He sat down beside her, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and leaned against the tree.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know if anything will ever be enough.”

“For once, trust me,” she said, burying her head in his chest to wipe away her tears. He kissed the top of her head and wondered if he could.

V
elixar arrived while the two still slept. He watched them, clinging desperately to each other even in their dreams. Nearby he saw a dying fire, and he sensed the death that lingered about it.

“Never before have I asked for a miracle,” Velixar prayed. “But Celestia’s power is dwindling. Perhaps there is time.”

He scattered the embers with his hand, then dug into the dirt. He glanced at the two lovers, making sure they still slept. He did not want to wake them. If there was anything that could damage them further, it was false hope. Faster and faster he dug, casting aside the earth until he found the bundled cloak. Closing his eyes, he slipped his hand within its folds until he felt cold flesh.

“Give her life,” Velixar prayed. “Whatever life you can give.”

He felt the power flow out of him, into the dead child he touched. The voice of Karak rang in his ears, strong and clear.

I do not mean him to suffer,
Velixar heard.
But this world is broken and dying, and there is naught I can do to stop it. But I will. One day, my faithful servant, we will end all their suffering.

The power ceased. He felt the child move. Eyes still closed, his magic wandered, and letting out a sigh he felt his spirit drop. The child moved, yes, but it was undead, just like any other corpse he had drawn from its grave. He let go of the child and stood.

“They could never love you,” he said to the squirming bundle. “Such a shame.”

He waved his hand, bathing it in fire. As the grave was consumed, he heard a noise from behind, like a soft cry of a bird. He glanced back to see Tessanna watching him, her mouth open, her eyes locked wide. There was no trace of sanity in them.

“Get out of here,” she said. “I will kill you if I see you again. You’re sick, and you’ve poisoned us all.”

“I only meant to help,” Velixar said.

“Fuck your intent,” she said. “Leave. Now.”

Qurrah stirred, and as he did, Velixar shook his head and left. The halforc opened his eyes, saw the fire, then the chaos in his lover’s eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“He was here,” she said. “Now he’s gone. And I’m glad.”

Qurrah pulled his arms free of her and stood. Pangs of hunger rumbled through him, but the thought of food nearly made him vomit. He staggered over to a nearby tree and leaned his arms against it, and with slow, labored breaths stared at the ground until his nausea passed.

“We’ll go to Veldaren,” he said. “We’ll go and demand our freedom, just as we were promised.”

“And if we’re not given it?” Tessanna asked.