The Cost of Betrayal (66 page)

No god answered, not in a way he knew how to listen for. Alone he stood, feeling forsaken by the world. A cold wind blew against his skin, a sign that winter was coming early.

A
gainst that same wind, Qurrah and Tessanna huddled without fire or blanket for warmth. The girl shivered naked, her thin body nestled into his robes. Neither had been able to find sleep.

“She wasn’t right,” Tessanna muttered, unable to stand the voices that echoed incessantly in her head.

“Right about what?” Qurrah asked. The girl opened her mouth to answer, but could not say it. So instead, she asked, “What will we do?”

The half-orc pulled her closer, burying his face into her hair to hide his few stubborn tears.

“I have broken too many promises. I will keep the rest. I will go west and claim Darakken’s spellbook as my own. I will heal your mind. It is the one promise I can still keep.”

“Can I come?” she asked, his robe clutched tight in her hands. “I do not want to be alone. Please, take me with you.”

In answer, Qurrah lifted her face and kissed her. Together, they shared their warmth against the biting wind. When he looked to the stars, his mind thought only of his brother, and of how he had veered his blade at the last moment when he should have buried it to the hilt in his forehead.

It was in this Qurrah found something to cling to, some hope within the madness of the day. His brother still loved him. Comforted, he curled closer to Tessanna and endured the long, dreary night.

A Note from the Author:

First of all, if you’ve made it this far, I want to say thanks. You’re two stories in, with three more to go. Plenty of fun is in store for the brothers Tun, and I hope you’re as excited as I am in continuing the next book.

So why am I yammering instead of typing ‘The End’ and letting you get back to your to-be-read list? There’s a lot of good books waiting for you, and that’s exactly while I’m still writing. You spent time reading my book, and on my part, that is a huge thrill. That’s all I want, really. I’ve got this huge story begging to be told, and I’m doing my best to tell it, but these characters don’t really
live
until they’ve got a reader.

I’m just a crackpot, self-publishing these works on every avenue I can find. In this, I am certainly not alone. If you enjoyed this novel, or at least thought it was worth your time and hard-earned money, then do me a favor: write a review. I don’t care if it’s a single sentence or a longwinded mini-novel (sort of like this little note, eh?). I know I’m asking a lot, but help others find me. Give me a bad review even, if you feel that I deserve it. I’m still writing, I’m still telling stories, and sometimes a stern word telling you your faults will do better than a thousand pages praising you to the sky.

Not that I don’t mind hearing some praise every now and then.

So again, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed my story. A special thanks to Mrs. Patterson, Mrs. Borushaski, and Dr. Brown. They were my Creative Writing teachers throughout High School and College, and I owe them more than they could possibly know.

Questions? Comments? Call me a fool, make a request, or just plain say ‘hi’: send me an email at
[email protected]
. I promise you, I’ll respond to every single one, and be thrilled every time.

Also, in case you liked the cover art, it was by an awesome guy named Peter Ortiz. You can find more of his work at
http://standalone-complex.deviantart.com/
.

Thanks so much,

David Dalglish

March 26
^th
, 2010