David Dalglish - The Prison of Angels

“That will last an hour,” Qurrah said, turning back to the guards. “Long enough for one of you to find my brother.”

The first guard nodded, looking frightened but doing a fine job of trying to hide it. Turning, he banged on the giant doors twice. When they opened, he slipped inside just before they reclosed.

“Where are the rest of the guards?” Tessanna asked, eyeing the castle curiously. “It seems odd you would be alone. Is the threat not out here among the angry people?”

The remaining guard opened and closed his mouth, confirming Qurrah’s suspicions that something more was amiss.

“I cannot say the reason,” the guard said at last. “Forgive me, but until milord gives me permission, I can say nothing.”

Qurrah and Tess shared a look.

“Very well,” he said. “We’ll leave you be.”

A few minutes later the great doors reopened. A guard stepped out and beckoned to them.

“Follow me,” he said.

They did, and it was only when the doors shut behind them were they finally free of the angry shouts of the people. Down the carpeted hall they walked, until the guard veered to the right, leading them into a small but well-furnished room. It had several chairs, a table already set with food, and a hearth that was currently empty given the warmth of the day. Tessanna grabbed an apple, took a bite.

“Wait here,” was all the guard said before exiting. The door slammed shut, and from the outside they heard the lock slide into place.

“Trusting fellow,” Qurrah said.

“While he was watching, you changed your appearance and then summoned a wall of darkness,” Tessanna said, rolling the apple from hand to hand. “That he left us alone at all seems pretty trusting to me.”

Qurrah chuckled.

“Since when did you become so understanding?” he asked.

“How else would I have stayed with you so long?”

She laughed at him, her eyes sparkling with humor, and Qurrah laughed with her. She seemed so happy, so content, so…normal. It wouldn’t last long, he knew. It never did. But he’d appreciate it while it was there.

“Are you nervous?” she asked after taking another bite.

“A bit. How long ago did he visit our cottage? Surely a year now, if not longer. Aubrienna will be twice the size she was when we last saw her.”

His niece’s name was like a trigger, and immediately Tessanna ceased eating her apple. She lowered her head, shoulders curling inward. Nervous, shy, regressing. Qurrah put a hand on her shoulder, kissed the top of her head.

“You’ve been forgiven,” he said to her. “Don’t forget that. You’re her aunt, that’s all she knows you as.”

“Her crazy, crazy aunt,” Tess said, peering up at him through her long bangs, but despite her obvious discomfort, she smiled.

Qurrah kissed her again, then held her against him as he tried to ignore his own nervousness. It had been a long while since he’d seen his brother. Perhaps he’d be unwanted. After all, he was a living memory of all the agony his brother had suffered, a specter from a far darker past. Harruq’s life had become so grand now. Exotic wife, beautiful daughter, friend of kings and steward of a kingdom. Would he, in his poor existence and plain robe, be just an unwanted reminder of childhood days stealing food and scrambling to find shelter when the weather turned sour…

A heavy fist knocked on the door twice before it barged open. Qurrah lurched to his feet, feeling like he’d somehow been caught. Standing there was his brother, wearing that same old leather armor Velixar had given them ages ago. Their eyes met, and all of Qurrah’s fear and nervousness went flying out the castle and into the heavens.

“Qurrah!” Harruq exclaimed, wrapping him in a bear hug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Because then you wouldn’t have the chance to tell us not to,” Qurrah said, and he smiled at his brother. “I hear you’ve become a man of importance. What fool did you con to get that stupid crown on your head?”

“The only fool here is the one wearing the crown,” Harruq said, his grin spreading.

He let go of Qurrah, returned to the door. Guards stood before it, their weapons at the ready.

“It’s all right,” Harruq said. “Bring them in.”

One of the guards shifted, and in rushed two children. The boy was unfamiliar, but Qurrah easily recognized the little brown-haired girl, with her father’s height and her mother’s sparkling eyes. Qurrah knelt, opened his arms, and she quickly rushed his way.

“Hi uncle,” she said, curling into him, and Qurrah was stunned by the familiarity she seemed to display. It’d been a year, after all, and Harruq had only brought her down to see them a handful of times. She acted like she felt safe in his arms, though, and that made it easy to ignore his own surprise and clumsiness. He closed his eyes, remembering a similar life he had robbed from all of Dezrel. Some day he prayed he might not have that pain and guilt haunt him. Someday, he just wanted to hold Aubrienna and be happy.

“She’s quiet today,” Qurrah said as Aubrienna continued to snuggle deeper into his robes. Meanwhile, the boy went and sat in one of the chairs, seemingly content to be alone and play with the toy soldier he carried. They both looked sullen, maybe even upset, depending on how he interpreted their silence and averted stares.

Harruq’s smile wavered, and he turned to the guards.

“Give us some space,” he said before shutting the door. When he turned around, Qurrah was floored by the rage in his brother’s eyes. Had he ever seen him angrier? Just once, he thought. Just once.

“What’s wrong?” Qurrah asked.

“Assassins,” Harruq said. “Aurelia’s out looking into it. While I was sitting on that damn throne, three men attacked Aurelia and the kids as they were playing in one of the castle’s gardens.”

“Who would dare?” Tessanna said, turning both their attentions to her. She’d remained quiet, lurking in the background when the children came inside. “Who would try to kill Aubrienna? Tell me, Harruq. Bring me to him if he lives, and I will make him suffer.”

Harruq swallowed.

“They’re dead,” he said. “Aurelia killed them during the attempt.”

Qurrah saw the rage and fear in his lover’s eyes, nearly rivaling that in his brother’s. She looked at Aubrienna, went to speak, then stopped. Qurrah knew she sought Aubrienna’s embrace, but she feared what her very presence might do to the child. That she also loved her beyond words, that she saw her as the child she could never have, seemed a cruel fate for her unstable mind to struggle with.

“Do you want to go to your aunt?” he asked Aubrienna.

“All right,” she said, sliding down from Qurrah’s lap. Tessanna dropped to her knees, and when Aubrienna came to her, Tess wrapped her tightly in her arms. Eyes closed, she pressed her cheek against the top of Aubrienna’s head.

“No one will hurt you,” Tessanna whispered as she rocked back and forth. “No one, I promise. I promise.”

Qurrah turned to Harruq, and he felt his own anger rising. Someone had struck at his family?

“Do you know why they attacked?” he asked.

Harruq shrugged.

“Popular as I am, I’ve got plenty of enemies, and Antonil has more. They may not have wanted Aurelia or Aubby. Gregory might have been the real target.”

“Gregory?”

Harruq gestured to the quiet child.

“Gregory Copernus, as in Gregory, heir to the throne of Mordan.”

From outside the door they heard another set of knocks. Harruq opened the door, and in walked a tired, disheveled Aurelia.

“Deathmask knows nothing,” Aurelia said, wrapping her arms around Harruq and leaning her head against his chest. Her eyes flicked in the direction of Qurrah and Tessanna, but if she was surprised by her guests, she didn’t show it.