The Cost of Betrayal by David Dalglish Page A

flowed into the pale and dying Aurelia. Then Delysia fell back, unable to keep her balance. Tarlak caught her gently in his arms.
    “I think I helped her,” Delysia said, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t think it’ll kill her. I don’t think…”
    She slipped into sleep in her brother’s arms. Harruq returned then, and looked down at his precious Aurelia.
    “Will she be all right?” he asked.
    “The arrow was cursed,” Qurrah said, his eyes looking not to his brother but to Haern. “They wished you to die of poison, and they wished death upon any that tried healing you. Aurelia saved your life.”
    “Who did this to her,” Harruq said, the whole world turning red in his eyes. “Was it the Spider Guild?”
    “Don’t do anything foolish,” Haern whispered. “They are many and powerful.”
    “And they’ll soon be many and dead.”
    Qurrah put his hand on his brother’s shoulder.
    “I will await you at the tower. I will be of no use to you now. I have not the strength. If you wish any to speak, however, I will be ready.”
    Harruq turned to Tarlak. “Can you get her to the tower?”
    The wizard nodded. “I’ll open a portal. Haern and Brug’ll help me carry Aurelia and Delysia. What is it you plan on doing?”
    Harruq’s grip tightened on his swords, and the rage in his eyes was visible fire.
    “Killing everyone responsible,” he growled.
    Tarlak glanced to his sister, weak and sleeping in his arms.
    “Kill them twice for me,” he said.
    With a nod, Harruq stormed out of the warehouse and into the dark streets of Veldaren.

    H e did not get far before Haern fell from the top of a building and blocked his path.
    “Out of my way, Haern. This is something I have to do.”
    Haern’s cold voice showed no sign of backing down. “I will aid you. The Spider Guild is strong. You cannot do this alone.”
    “I can, and I will.”
    He tried to shove his way past. Haern hooked his foot behind Harruq’s ankle and kicked. The half-orc fell, Haern holding an arm so that his landing was not too painful.
    “Do not be foolish,” Haern whispered into his ear. “They meant to kill me. Aurelia saved my life. I will repay such a debt.”
    Harruq snorted, blowing dirt away from his face. “Fine. Do you know where we should start?”
    Haern released his hold on the half-orc. Harruq brushed himself off, got to his feet, and glared at his teacher. Haern’s glare back showed he cared little for his pupil’s attitude.
    “Follow me,” the Watcher said.

 
     
     
     
    7

     
    T he Black Mug Bar was a dank, crowded building made of old plaster and uneven walls. Its drinks were often watered down and always overpriced, but despite this, it remained fully stocked with customers. Most were not there for the ale. In the back of the building was its real purpose. A guarded door led to an expansive and well-lit basement filled with the finest luxuries available. To enter, one needed a password, which changed every month, and to show a sigil proving membership. Harruq and Haern needed neither.
    “What you say?” a burly man asked as they approached.
    “Pissed off half-orc,” Harruq said. The guard shook his head.
    “You two should leave. Nothing down there you want.”
    “Oh yeah, there is,” the half-orc said, grabbing the man’s head and slamming it against the door. The guard slumped to the floor. The few patrons jumped to their feet, drawing weapons. Most were members of the Spider Guild, and donned gray cloaks similar to Haern’s.
    The assassin whirled upon them, drawing his sabers.
    “I have killed more men than all of you have combined,” he said, his blue eyes blazing. “Those wishing to live, leave now. Those who dare face the wrath of the Watcher, come now, and die.”
    Uncertain glances were followed by disappearing cloaks. Soon only the barkeep remained. Harruq kicked the door, splintering the meager lock.
    “There was a key on the guy you just clobbered,” the barkeep said, pouring himself