David Dalglish - The Cost of Betrayal

“Shhhh,” Tessanna said through clenched teeth. “It’s a secret.” She leaned back, smiling into her hand. “And don’t you tell anybody.”

“I promise I will not,” Qurrah said. He stood and stretched his arms. “I must go. Will you be fine spending a few more days here?”

“Will you come visit me?” she asked. She curled her legs to her chest and peered over her knees. Qurrah would have done anything she asked, she was so beautiful.

“Of course. Every day. I promise.”

She lowered her head, as if in hiding.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” Qurrah asked.

“You know what. If you don’t, you’re dumber than I thought.”

The half-orc chuckled, glad to hear the edge of sarcasm. She seemed sanest when she was being sarcastic. He bid her farewell and returned to the tower.

W hy do I have to be stuck with the orcs?” Brug grumbled in the quietest tone he could manage, which was not very quiet at all. They hid near where the assassination was to take place, and Tarlak had just outlined the groups. Naturally, the wizard was to be alone with Aurelia.

“Because you’re so short,” Tarlak said. “And all short people must suffer. It is the Eschaton way.” Tarlak’s grin faded when he realized Brug was not amused. “Listen, Haern stays on his own, because he works best that way. Delysia remains safe until it is all over and done, and she can heal whoever needs it. Aurelia and I will sneak in through the roof, and that leaves you three watching from the streets.”

“How come I can’t be with Aurelia?” Brug whined. “She needs a melee fighter in case something goes wrong.”

“It appears you have competition, brother,” Qurrah said, an amused expression on his face.

“Bah,” Harruq said. “With the mage or the short guy? Either way, I’m not too worried.” Both turned and glared. He grinned back. “Hello! Aurry’s going without you, so one of you better go.”

He pointed to the elf, who was twenty feet in the air and climbing, courtesy of a levitation spell. Tarlak patted Brug on the head. “Looks like you can’t follow. Good luck. Save our asses if we screw up.”

He cast a spell, his feet bumped an inch off the ground, and then he followed Aurelia. Harruq put his hand on Brug’s shoulder as the three stared.

“A shame,” he said. “Look on the bright side, though. You can almost see up Aurry’s dress from here.”

Brug’s face turned beet red. “One day,” he snarled. “Just…one day…you’ll see.”

T arlak landed on the roof, beside Aurelia.

“Gorgeous night,” he said. “A perfect time to spend with a beautiful woman.”

“Hope you have enough coin on you,” she said.

“I said with, not on,” Tarlak corrected. Aurelia shrugged.

“Whatever. I take it the three mummers are guarding the southern entrance?”

Tarlak nodded.

“Haern should be watching the other, which leaves the roof to us.”

“Time to vanish,” Aurelia said.

The two faded from view as they cast their invisibility spells. The roof was flat and bare, leaving them no other options for hiding. With all ways into the building covered, there was nothing to do but wait. Twenty minutes later, a lone man appeared, circled the building, and then dashed away.

“A scout,” Tarlak explained. Aurelia glanced down the alley, and from her vantage point, noticed Harruq’s shoulders peeking out from behind a few conveniently placed crates.

“I think Haern needs to teach Harruq a thing or two about stealth,” she said. Tarlak laughed.

“Stealth? If he isn’t screaming and wrecking stuff before the fight, I’ll be thrilled.”

She tried to jab him with her finger but missed. “Next time I see you, you are getting such a hard poking.”

“Be gentle, I am a delicate creature.”

Tarlak suddenly stiffened. The elf could not see his posture change, but the abrupt silence quieted her as well.

“The Shadow Guild,” the wizard whispered a moment later. Down the street walked a man, flanked by ruffians dressed in black leather. Blue scarves covered their faces. The man wore a suit of polished leather armor with silver runes shining across his sleeves and neck. His scarred face showed the price of his position. They marched to the northern door, opened it, and went inside.

“Odd,” Tarlak murmured. “No checking. No searches.”

“More come from the south,” Aurelia said. Another group, this time adorned in pure gray clothes and armor, the black spider emblazoned on their clothing, traveled up the street. In their center walked a young man, his face covered by a hood pulled low.

“They look so much like Haern,” she said.

“He was to be their prized assassin,” Tarlak whispered. “Reared from birth to be silent and unseen. The Spider Guild planned complete conquest of the other guilds, and then dominion over Veldaren’s streets.”

Aurelia observed their silent movements shrouded by their long gray cloaks. They did not move like men. She shivered. “What stopped them?”

“They underestimated Haern. They thought his mind enslaved to their dogma. A certain red-headed girl saved him.”

“Delysia?”

A soft chuckle escaped the invisible wizard’s throat.

“Aye. He may not look it, but a small gold emblem of the mountain hangs from his neck. Ashhur saved him. In turn, Haern has saved us a hundred times over.”

The group of men reached the warehouse, opened the door, and marched inside. The door slammed shut behind them.

“Fun time. Do you know pass-wall?”

Aurelia shook her head, and then laughed when she realized the wizard would not be able to see. “No, I don’t,” she said.

“Very well, I was prepared for that. Um, hrm. Say something, I need to grab your hand.”

“Over here.”

She reached out her hands and slowly searched the air.

“Here?” he asked.

“To your left.”

“You mean here?”

“Other left. My left, wait, never mind, that won’t work will it?”

“Here you are.” A hand suddenly wrapped around her waist. “Found you.”

“Unfind me right now, mister wizard.”

“Why should I do that?” was his flirty reply.

“Mudskipper.”

The hand vanished. Fingers wrapped around her arm, then slid to her wrist. From her left, she heard spellcasting. A tingling sensation flowed all the way to her toes. Suddenly, it felt like the ground beneath her feet vanished. She started to fall, but the firm grip on her wrist held her steady.

“Levitate for Ashhur’s sake, woman!” Tarlak said loud as he dared.

She closed her eyes and did the semantic components with her right hand. When the final words left her tongue, she floated up and off the ceiling.

“You have about a minute left,” Tarlak said. “Float on down and stay at the top of the room. I’ll be beside you.”

“No more whispering,” Aurelia said before dipping down. “They might hear.”

Then she was falling through the ceiling.

T ime to go?” Harruq asked.

“That’s just one group, no clue when others are showing up,” Brug argued from behind his barrel. “We wait until we get ourselves a signal.”

“What kind of signal is that?”

“Fire, screams, writing in the sky,” said Qurrah.

“Funny,” Brug grumbled.

“You’re not laughing.”

“Because it ain’t funny!”

“Stop lying then, and you’re being far too loud,” Harruq said. “How about we wait five more minutes?”

If anyone was bothering to count, and Qurrah was, it was the fifth time Brug’s face turned beet red from anger, embarrassment, or both.

“Both parties have arrived,” a voice whispered from behind them. “And I know of two-year-olds that make less noise than you three.”