“Those images are of a madman,” Qurrah said, remembering the man with his mouth sewn shut. “Or madwoman. Was that your childhood?”
The necromancer had always thought the cruelty and depravity of his early years was unmatched, but it appeared someone else had a tale darker than his own.
He stood, brushed the dust of his robes, and returned to the tower, fresh determination in his heart. He would speak with the girl the following morning. Part of him could not endure the wait. And part of him would gladly wait forever.
Y ou look well,” Aurelia said when Harruq poked his head into their room.
“Better than yesterday?” he asked.
“Yes, but not by much.”
The half-orc laughed, and then collapsed onto the elf’s floor.
“Delysia!” she called, glancing back to where the priestess reclined on a bed reading a book.
“The big boy needs a spell?” she asked, not looking up.
“Or three.” Aurelia cast a levitation spell on the passed out half-orc. He floated into the air, traveled across the two beds, and stopped beside the priestess. She reached up and touched the floating half-orc. White light surrounded her hand. Healing magic flowed out from her. Delysia withdrew her hand, having not once stopped her reading. Aurelia gently lowered Harruq next to her. Seconds later, he stirred.
“Eh? Where, oh, hello Aurry.”
“Hello, Harruq,” she smiled. “Care to stay awhile?”
“Sure thing.”
“Good,” the elf said, backing away and giving an exaggerated wave in front of her nose. “But bathe first, so we may stay together in the same room.”
Harruq groaned. “Where can I do that?”
Aurelia glanced back to Delysia, who looked up from her book with an evil smile.
“Oh this is going to be bad, isn’t it?” he asked as both began shoving him down the stairs.
“You have no idea,” Aurelia laughed.
T hey took him to a tiny stone structure jutting out the eastern side of the tower. Harruq had to duck to get inside. The two girls stayed outside, the smiles on their faces only increasing his worry.
“What is so funny?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Aurelia said. “Now take off your armor and clothes.”
“Excuse me?” His face blushed. “Not sure you two want the whole show, do you?”
“Of course not,” Aurelia said with fake indignation.
“Such a pervert,” Delysia added.
Aurelia reached inside and swung a small, hinged door shut. It was high enough to reach the half-orc’s chest.
“Now get naked,” Aurelia said. “We won’t peek in, we promise. Just slide your armor over the top of the door.”
Harruq mumbled a few choice comments but made sure none were loud enough for Aurelia’s sharp ears. He stripped down and tossed his belongings outside.
“Now what?” he asked.
“Say the word, ‘water’,” Delysia said.
The half-orc shrugged.
“Water.”
Water fell from the ceiling, as if a tiny rainstorm were trapped inside. Harruq jumped, but the water was warm, and the rain, soft. There was no drain, instead the water faded away without ever pooling higher than his toes.
“This isn’t too bad,” he said, shaking his hair back and forth and staring at the ceiling. “Kind of soft, though.”
“Say more,” Delysia ordered.
“More.”
The rain increased in intensity.
“Oh yeah, much better.” Harruq began washing himself under the water.
“Thought you’d like it,” Aurelia said. “By the way, just don’t say much more.”
“What happens if I say much more?”
One might as well have dumped seven buckets of water on him at once. The room roared with a downpour mightier than nature could ever muster.
“Aaah, make it stop!” the half-orc screamed. Both girls were too busy laughing, however, to tell him how. “Daah, stupid rain! Less, less!” The rain softened back to a tolerable level. He shook water out of his ears while the girls continued laughing.
“Think you’re soooo funny,” he grumbled.
“Of course.” Delysia drummed her fingers against the door, smiling at Harruq. “You can say cold and warm to change the temperature.”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
Aurelia jabbed Delysia in the ribs, her grin still mischievous. “Think he’s done in there already?”
“I’d say so,” the priestess replied. “We did soak him pretty good, didn’t we?”
“What’re you two up to now?” the wary half-orc asked.
“Say ‘dry’ Harruq,” Aurelia ordered.
“No. I don’t trust you.”
“Fine, I will.” The elf hoisted herself up and stuck her neck through the top of the door. Harruq spun around, blushing furiously. The elf laughed and said, “dry very hard.”
Massive winds slammed Harruq from one side of the room. He struggled against it, but eventually flew back, the impact with the wall taking away his breath.
“I hate you, Aurry!” he shouted when his senses returned.
“I love you!” she shouted back. She poked her head in once more, took a good look at the half-orc while Delysia opened her mouth in shock, and then said the word ‘done.’
The wind stopped. All was quiet in the room. Aurelia stepped back while the priestess mouthed a question.
“It’ll do,” Aurelia said. Both burst out laughing.
“Can I have my clothes now?” a humbled and embarrassed Harruq asked from inside.
“Here you go,” Delysia said, tossing the dirty clothes over the top of the door. “Although you really should keep those in there with you when you wash.”
Both decided the curses coming from inside were not appropriate for female ears, so they left. Qurrah met them at the door to the tower.
“What’s so amusing?” he asked.
“Your brother is just so cute,” Aurelia said.
“Especially when he’s all wet and grumpy,” Delysia added. Qurrah remained outside as they left. He shook his head, honestly bewildered.
“Dezrel will rue the day those two met,” he said. Harruq showed up, his armor in his arms. He was completely dry.
“Have fun with the girls, I guess?” Qurrah asked.
“Shut up,” Harruq said. “And I’m never bathing again.”
Still clueless, Qurrah could only laugh at his brother’s anger as Harruq stomped upstairs in a huff.
H aern slipped inside Tarlak’s room, shutting the door silently. The wizard sat as his desk, pouring over maps of Dezrel.
“Thanks for coming, Haern,” Tarlak said without looking up.
“You’ve become more perceptive.”
Tarlak chuckled. “Nope. Aurelia cast a few spells on my room at my request. Clever girl, really. I’ll know when someone enters, or is listening, watching, or scrying. We’re safe here. You can take that hood off if you want.”
“Do you trust her?”
The wizard looked up from his notes. “Of course I do. Don’t you?”
Haern shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”
“Then don’t take your hood off yet,” was the wizard’s reply. “Not too complicated.” He gestured to the seat before his desk. “Sit down. We need to talk.”
The assassin crossed the room and sat. He glanced around, sighed, and then removed the hood. Long, curly gold hair danced with a shake of his head. Tarlak glanced at the face of his friend and sighed. He would die to have Haern’s looks, yet all the assassin did was keep his features hidden underneath his hood, all so he could go unnoticed whenever he wished.
“You really don’t have your priorities straight,” Tarlak muttered.
“How so?” Haern asked. His voice was clear and firm, the whisper vanishing along with the hood.
“Never mind. We have a problem.”
Haern leaned forward, scanning the documents and maps littering Tarlak’s desk. “What is it?”
The wizard sighed and collapsed in his chair. “I don’t know what it is, and that’s the problem. Something big is going on. When was the last time any of our contacts gave you information worth a damn?”
A hand ran through the golden hair as he thought. “Two months at least. Maybe three. Are you worried my network has been compromised?”