The Shadows of Grace (50 page)

“They’ll free me or they’ll kill me,” Qurrah said. “I won’t suffer any other option.”

Tessanna frowned but nodded.

“Help me to the creek,” she said. “I stink of sweat and blood.”

He more carried her than helped her walk. She winced when he put her into the water, but it felt good. It felt cleansing.

“Qurrah?” she asked as she submersed all but her head. “Is death really preferable over a life here with me?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, but he did not meet her eyes when he said it. She saw this and started crying. She dipped her head under the water to hide her tears.

It was another day before she was strong enough to travel. The time passed as if both were within dreams. The demons were gone. The armies were gone. There were only the sounds of the forest and the animals within. Deep in his heart, Qurrah longed for the days when it was just him and Tess alone in a small cabin in the heart of the king’s forest.

“What happened to those days?” he asked aloud as he dabbed his hand into the stream.

“What days?” Tessanna asked.

He only shook his head.

They traveled southeast, knowing when they exited the forest Veldaren would not be far. Slowly Qurrah realized where they were, and a strange thought came to him.

“The Eschaton tower,” he said as they walked hand in hand. “It should be near.”

“It is,” Tessanna said, her voice a complete drone. She had fallen into her apathetic self, and to Qurrah’s nagging worry, she seemed unable to come out of it. “We’re also near where we first made love. Aullienna died in this forest, and now Teralyn. So much has happened here. Do you remember the assassins we killed, the ones after Aurelia?”

“You were frightening and beautiful,” Qurrah said.

“I often am.”

They altered their path, and for the next few hours walked in silence. They were nearing the tower, a place that had once been their home. They had been back only once since Aullienna’s death, right before Velixar’s army had assaulted Veldaren and torn its walls asunder. It seemed a lifetime had passed, but as they stepped out of the forest the tower loomed before them, same as it had always been.

“Why are we here?” Qurrah asked as he stopped and looked at the tower, nostalgia tugging at his heart.

“Because we miss it,” she said. “Because we were happy here.”

“Happy,” Qurrah said, and he chuckled as if the mere notion were insane. “I’ve almost forgotten the feeling.”

“You knew it,” Tessanna said, grabbing her lover’s hand and holding it against her abdomen. “When you felt Teralyn move inside me. Is it so easy to forget?”

He kissed her cheek, again feeling vile and worthless.

“You’re right,” he said. “But not easy. Just far too hard.”

The doors were unlocked, and he opened them with dread lurking in the back of his head.

No good will come of this,
he thought.
Nothing.

He walked inside anyway, Tessanna holding his hand. Dust covered the couches and floors, the air thick and dry. Any other time thieves might have ransacked the place, but what thieves remained in the world? Demons poured into the conquered city mere miles away, all life sworn to them or extinguished.

They climbed the stairs. The dream-feeling grew stronger. They both knew where they were going. They both knew why they were there. Qurrah’s dread grew. Could he face what he looked for? Could he admit to the wound he had pretended healed years ago? At the top of the stairs there was a door, and behind the door, his brother’s old room. He pushed it open.

Aurelia had once cast illusions all over the place, carpeting the floor with grass and turning the walls to sky. The illusions had faded, so that the room appeared barren. The ground was a dull stone. The walls were gray. He walked past the bed to the small attached room. He felt Tessanna’s grip on his hand turn to iron. Aullienna’s room. The crib was gone. The whole room, empty. Qurrah stepped inside and fell to his knees. He remembered when he had first seen her. He had been angry at his brother for giving her an elvish name. So angry, he had refused to even touch the swaddled infant. He could hardly understand that anger now. The orcish blood flowing through him felt like a curse, one that haunted his life and tormented him with death and anguish.

“How did you ever forgive me?” he asked as Tessanna wrapped her arms around his neck. “I never understood, and I never let myself feel it. I always blamed him, I always…”

“Hush,” Tessanna said, kissing his neck. “Just hush. I forgave you because I had to if I still wanted to love you.”

“Could he ever forgive me?” Qurrah asked, staring at his hands as if they were coated with blood.

Tessanna leaned back. She wasn’t sure what she believed, what she wanted to believe, and what she simply feared. She had many answers, but she chose the one that scared her least.

“No,” she said. “He could never forgive you.”

The answer seemed to crush Qurrah’s body, but he nodded in agreement.

“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t deserve it. But he deserves better. For all his faults, he stayed true to me. I was wrong, Tess. He never abandoned me. I abandoned him. And I will make it right.”

Qurrah stood, and he clutched her hand.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I must find my brother,” he said. “Before it is too late.”

“You’re scaring me,” Tessanna said, at last a bit of emotion creeping into her voice.

“Because I
am
scared,” he said. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“Where will we find him?” she asked. “
How
will you find him?”

“Their army gives chase,” Qurrah said. “They will lay siege to Veldaren in a desperate attempt to close the portal. My brother will be with them.”

She kissed his lips and then held onto him for dear life.

“I won’t leave you,” she said. “Long as you never make me, I’ll never leave you.”

Qurrah kissed her back but stayed silent. That silence was an arrow into her, but like all her pain, she hid it behind her masks, her apathy.

They slept at the top of the tower that night, huddled, broken, and so very close to dead.

T
he leaders of both angel and human armies met within the giant tent, mere days from Veldaren. They had encountered little resistance, spotting only the occasional scout tracking their progress.

“Time is on their side,” Azariah said as he paced the area. “More and more of Thulos’ soldiers pour into our world with every passing moment.”

“How do we close it?” Antonil asked, sitting between Sergan and Tarlak. “Is it something we can destroy? Is it even physical?”

“Two ways,” Azariah said. “If I can make it to the portal, I believe I can close it with a spell. The only other way is to kill those that are using their strength to keep it open.”

“Velixar,” Harruq said. “He is certainly one.”

“Your brother, too,” Tarlak said.

“Killing just one of them should be enough,” Azariah said. “If it is just the two, the strain must be enormous. The other will break if he tries holding it open on his own.”

“What about the castle?” Judarius said. “We have both ground and air to assault. If we can split their forces, the advantage will be ours.”

Antonil motioned to a drawing in the dirt that represented the castle and its walls.

“Karak’s forces destroyed both gates before we fled, and let’s not forget the third door Harruq made for us to escape through.”

“What, you want me to pay for repairs?” Harruq asked with a grin.

“The demons will have rebuilt the defenses by now,” Ahaesarus said, his arms crossed and his right hand tapping the hilt of his sword. “The walls are no difficulty for us, but Antonil’s troops need to enter, and quickly.”

“Then fly us over,” Lathaar said, the first time he had spoken during the meeting. “Drop us behind the gates. We’ll open them and let the rest of the troops through while you distract the demons in the air.”

“The strategy is sound,” Judarius said, nodding in appreciation to the paladin. “If we drop troops at both gates, your greatest fighters and casters, then we are certain to open one of them.”

“I can make sure it opens,” Mira said, nestled against Lathaar’s side as if she were hiding. “They won’t be able to stop me.”

“That’s reassuring,” said Tarlak.

“Your magic is strong,” Ahaesarus said to her. “They will try to kill you first. Are you prepared for such pressure?”

The girl said nothing, only smiled and nodded.

“So be it,” Ahaesarus. “Antonil, you will lead your troops outside the walls and wait for an opening. I will lead my angels in an aerial assault on the castle. Judarius, you will be in charge of dropping soldiers within the gates.”

“I’ll arrange the groups,” Tarlak said. “Just get us through, and we’ll bust you some holes to march on in.”

“Ashhur be with all of you,” Ahaesarus said, disbanding the meeting. “Stay sharp. The battle will be upon us soon.”

“So what are the groups?” Harruq asked once they were outside the tent.

“Well, I figured the paladins would work well together,” Tarlak said. “And I think Mira’s rather attached to one of them, so she goes with.”

“You’re too kind,” Lathaar said.

“I personally appreciate having a goddess on our side,” Jerico said.

“That leaves us Eschaton for the other,” Tarlak said. “Me and Aurry should handle the demons no problem, and I think even you can handle a simple task like opening a gate.”

“That’s pushing it a little,” Aurelia said. Tarlak laughed at Harruq’s frown.

“Aye, but we’ll just have to take the risk.”

“Too funny,” Harruq grumbled.

“I’ll try to do well,” Mira said. “I don’t want to disappoint you all.”

“Mira, my beautiful girl,” Tarlak said, bowing to her. “I find that nearly impossible to believe that possible.”

“So eloquent,” Aurelia said with a snicker.

They scattered about the camp, but before Tarlak could leave, Harruq tapped his shoulder and motioned for him to stay.

“Can you give me a moment, babe?” he asked Aurelia. The elf shrugged.

“If you need it,” she said. She kissed his cheek and joined Mira as she headed for the nearby stream for a swim.

“What’s so important?” Tarlak asked.

“It’s about my brother,” said Harruq.

“Isn’t it always?” Tarlak said, rolling his eyes.

“You and Aurelia will handle the gate fine,” Harruq insisted. “I need dropped further into the city. I need to find Qurrah.”

“It’ll be dangerous letting you run off on your own,” Tarlak said. “And I doubt he’ll be alone. That Tess girl is always at his side.” He shifted his hat, remembering her displays of power, like some dark angel with ethereal wings. He and Aurelia had assaulted her with everything they had, only to be brushed away like gnats.

“I’ll be fine,” Harruq insisted.

“If she’s with him, you’ll be dead,” Tarlak said.

Harruq grabbed Tarlak’s shoulders.

“A risk I’m willing to take,” he said, tilting his head down so they could stare eye to eye. “I can end all of this. You heard what Azariah said. If either he or Velixar goes, then the portal’s finished.”

Tarlak sighed. He glanced toward the stream and chewed on his lower lip.

“Your wife will kill me if she finds out,” he said.

“Another risk I’m willing to take,” Harruq said, grinning.

“I’ll talk to Judarius,” Tarlak said. “But Ashhur help you when you see your wife afterwards.”

Harruq tried to laugh it off, but he was right. He wasn’t frightened by the prospect of facing his brother alone. He was, however, terrified of what Aurelia was going to do to him if he survived.

“Perhaps it’ll be best if we kill each other at the same time,” Harruq said, nodding.

“Good luck with that,” Tarlak said. “Let me know how it goes.”

O
n the other side of Dezrel, Haern ran through the streets, his sabers drawn and coated with blood. Cloaked figures ran on the rooftops to either side of him. Not far behind, Deathmask chased, bits of shadows sparking from his hands.

“Cut him off,” Haern shouted. The two figures above him vanished, veering off to their respective sides. Further down the street ran a paladin of Karak, barreling his way through anyone foolish enough to be in his way. When a man didn’t move, the paladin gutted him with his sword and shoved him aside as if he were nothing but a nuisance. Haern shook his head and ran faster.

They reached a crossroads. Haern expected him to cut to either side, where one of the twins waited, but instead he kept going, heading straight for the walls to the city.

So be it,
Haern thought. No one could outrun him. He leaped and fell with sabers curled, like a bird descending on its prey. The paladin did not hear his silent approach. Sabers crashed through the creases of his armor, deep into the arteries of his neck. The paladin garbled a last cry and then collapsed, Haern’s knees on his back. The assassin twisted his sabers, still furious at the dead man.