Cavelost

by Courtney Privett

Daelis tore off her mask. His eyes widened as he stepped back. His hand covered his mouth and I heard a muffled, "No. You look like your mother. No, no, no. Why?"

  Sister Forlorn slumped as her breaths became ragged. I side-stepped so I could see her face clearly. Half-elf. Black hair, brown eyes, and young, much younger than I expected. This must have been the girl Shan saw lurking in the University library.

  Daelis dropped his hand to his side. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want him to send you away, but I was a stupid teenager and didn't know I could fight back. I'm sorry your mother was exiled to Uptown. I'm sorry I never knew you."

  "You're such a fool," Sister Forlorn spat breathlessly. "Uptown was a lie created only for your benefit. I was born at Mountain Home. My mother and grandmother were sent underground to die in the labyrinth as soon as I was born, as soon as I proved my value. Don't look at me like you care. You're nothing to me and never have been. You're a toy, Daelis Goldtree, only a lost toy destined to become fuel for the furnace."

  "Eilie..."

  Her eyelids clenched in pain and her head sank to the dust. "She said... I'm the only... worthwhile... thing to... come out of... your... failure... of a life..."

  Daelis sat on his knees at her side. He stroked her rapidly blanching face before leaning forward to kiss her forehead. A single tear fell from the corner of her dark eye and splashed in the dust. Daelis exhaled forcefully and asked, "Eilie, where did you send Shan? Please. Where are they taking your brother?"

  Her erratic breathing slowed and her eyes closed. "Home."

  "Mountain Home?" Daelis asked, but Eilie could no longer respond. She was on the edge of the veil. She had a small amount of time left, but she would not be conscious for it.

  I knelt behind Daelis and embraced him. "Sweetie, I don't think she can answer anymore."

  "I've murdered my own daughter," Daelis said. He ran his fingers through Eilie's silky hair as the last of her life dyed the desert floor crimson.

  "She stopped being Eilie the moment she became Sister Forlorn, if she was ever Eilie at all."

  Daelis drew a sharp breath. "I'd always hoped to know her, always wondered what she was like. Now that I've met her, I wish that I hadn't. I failed her and now I've failed Yana. And Shan. Again. I've failed Shan again."

  "No you haven't. We're going to go get them. She doesn't get to keep them," I said.

  Daelis leaned against me. "Eilie's not keeping anything."

  "Oh, no, no, no. Not Eilie. Fathomless Mother. We're going to take them back from Fathomless Mother."

  "But where? Where are they? Mountain Home? My gods-damned ancestral manor? It's a fortress and damned near impossible to access without flying because there is no way they'd let us through the narrow gate road. Or teleporting like these bastards are apparently able to."

  The lies needed to stop now. I knew and had known for some time. I knew when I heard her voice, even though she tried to disguise it. I couldn't tell him before. I was afraid of hurting him. I can't hold onto that fear any longer. He needs to know the truth. "No, Daelis. Not Mountain Home. Fathomless Mother is in Jadeshire."

  "Why would you think that?" Daelis asked. He leaned away from me. "Rin, what is it that you know but I don't? Tell me. Please."

  I stood and rubbed my eyes. "I know that Shan is shadow-skilled. He hides it because he doesn't want to admit that his soul is attuned to darkness, but the Warlock Masters at the University sensed it and are actively trying to recruit him for their program. I know he inherited his abilities from your side of the family. Specifically, from your mother. Daelis... the leader of the Jarrah... Fathomless Mother... she's Ranalae Nightshadow. Your mother is the one who is trying to kill us."

  Daelis spun around so quickly that I was certain I heard his healing ribs snap. "Why do you think this. Explain?"

  I looked around at the circle of mournful orc faces. They had come to claim their dead and dying. I hoped they wouldn't blame us for their losses. Some of them watched us, but they did not appear angry. Still, that might come later, once their grief reveals itself.

  I helped Daelis to his feet. "Come with me. We'll sit somewhere quieter and I'll tell you what I know. Then, we are going to go get our children back."

  Day 149, part 3

  Last spring, I received a letter, a notice of a meeting I was required to attend. I still freelanced as a hired sword on occasion, and I had only completed the Emberflight job for Daelon Goldtree two or three weeks before, so I didn't think much of it.

  The meeting was set for midnight at a tavern called The Iron Pelican. It's a high-class place in the Garden District, less a tavern and more a locale for aristocrats to hire mercs and prostitutes while they sip expensive liquor out of gemmed goblets. I'd been there before. More often than I care to admit at the moment.

  The barkeep knew me, so I had no problem getting to where I needed to be. He led me down two flights of stairs to the sub-basement, right next to the absinthe stills. Duchess Ranalae Nightshadow-Goldtree sat under a canopy, a glass goblet of absinthe in her jeweled hand. Two half-elven attendants stood next to her, one of whom I now know was Eilie.

  "Off with you two," Ranalae said, flicking her fingers toward the attendants. "I wish to speak with Miss Sylleth in private." Once they were up the stairs and out of sight, she beckoned to me. "Come sit with me, Katrin. I have a proposition for you."

  "Yes, Your Grace," I said. I took the chair she offered, as well as a preparation of sugared absinthe. I prefer less... well, less extravagant drinks, but it would have been an insult to refuse.

  Ranalae straightened her back and smiled at me. "Katrin Sylleth, you have quite a reputation as exceptional in your profession. Integrity among hired swords is difficult to find, but you overflow with it, my dear. I understand you only accept a few contracts a year now, and only under ideal circumstances. You may not know, but I have hired you before, via one of my associates. You disposed of Lord Linden Starbright for me two years ago. Excellent execution, very discreet, and it was officially written off as an unfortunate accident without a single conspiracy attached. I have utmost confidence in your skill and discretion in such delicate matters. I wish to hire you again, and I intend to pay you handsomely. The marks are here in Jadeshire, both of them, so no travel is required. Are you interested?"

  "I am, Your Grace," I said without hesitation. Jadeshire highborn jobs were both easy and high-paying, plus I could be done with it and return to my daily life within hours.

  Ranalae set down the goblet and folded her fingers together. "Excellent. In the interest of discretion, I would like you to sign the contract now. The contract details the amount you will be paid upon completion. Once it is signed, you will leave this establishment. On your way out, each of my attendants will slip an envelope into your pocket. The envelopes contain the names of your marks and a retainer for your services. You will be paid, discretely and in full, within two nights of fulfilling the contract. Is this arrangement acceptable?"

  "It is, Your Grace." This was standard procedure for highborn jobs. Aristocrats tend to be a superstitious lot and regard it as bad luck to say the names of the intended deceased aloud. "Within what timeframe would you like me to complete the contract?"

  "Within a fortnight. Is that acceptable?" Ranalae twirled a loose lock of hair around her fingers, then leaned forward and handed me a piece of paper.

  I read it over. Standard stuff about forfeiting my retainer if the task was botched or incomplete. The payment sum was extravagant, more than I'd been paid for any job, including the Harmonshore telescope retrieval. It would cover the total of Shan's schooling and leave plenty of extra for Tessen to set up his own silversmith shop once he completed his apprenticeship. I signed the contract and handed it back to her. "It will be done, Your Grace," I said.

  Ranalae stood and folded the contract into her purse. "Excellent. I trust you won't disappoint me, Katrin. Now be off with you. It is a foul hour and I wish to sleep."

  I waited until I was home and sea
ted at my desk to open the envelopes the attendants had put in my pockets. I broke the wax seals and set aside two large denomination banknotes. Now to see what I had gotten myself into.

  Daelon Goldtree

  The name on the first slip of paper lunged at me like a striking viper. The Duchess had hired me to kill her own husband. The High Lord of the Jade Realm. My eldest son's grandfather. I wasn't enthused about this mark, but I didn't have much of a reason to refuse. Shan didn't know Daelon and likely never would. I burned the name in my candle flame and held the second slip to the light.

  Daelis Goldtree

  I stared at the letters and noted the way the candlelight flickered behind them. I set the paper on my desk and traced my fingers over the fluid script. Daelis. She wanted me to kill her only child. She wanted me to kill the first person I ever fell in love with, my son's father, the elf I hoped would one day acknowledge the existence of the child he once claimed to love. Ranalae couldn't possibly know about my failed relationship with Daelis, could she? I doubt she would have been so cordial toward me if she did. No, I think she hired me based on my merit alone.

  My heart rose to a gallop as I retraced the name over and over. What kind of monster would contract the assassination of her own son? I loathed what Daelis had done to me, but he was not overall a bad person. He had a reputation for being just and fair by the few people who cared to have an opinion of him. He was naturally charismatic, but he attracted little attention to himself that wasn't already demanded by his position and heritage.

  I couldn't do this job. Ranalae may have been nonchalant about paying someone to assassinate her son, but I was not willing to kill my own son's father. I wasn't willing to murder my first love, no matter how much he had wronged me.

  I decided to break the contract. The problem was, I was afraid Ranalae would immediately hire someone else to do the job. I didn't want Daelis in my life, but I didn't want him dead either, especially not before he had spoken to Shan.

  I waited until the end of the fortnight, then couriered the retainer money back to Ranalae with a note simply reading, No. Then I sent an anonymous message to the Goldtree guards claiming that I had overheard an assassination plan so they might want to be vigilant.

  For a little while, nothing happened. Both Goldtrees were still alive, and Ranalae gave me no response, either positive or negative. Then, I noticed one of Ranalae's attendants watching me from the shadows. Not Eilie, the other one. She came into my father's shop, she visited all the market vendors I frequented, and she commissioned a dress from my mother. I knew what she was doing. She was trying to figure out why I broke the contract. Was I ill? Did I have an ailing family member? Did I receive a more interesting proposition? No, none of those. I knew she found what she was looking for when she came in for a fitting while Shan and I were helping move bolts for my mother. She spent her fitting sneaking glances at Shan while a faint smile slowly adhered itself to her lips. She unraveled my secret and took it home to share with her mistress.

  I didn't see the attendant again after that fitting, but a few months later I woke up in a cave.

  I kept Ranalae on my mental list once I found Daelis, but I didn't confirm that she was responsible for our kidnappings until we were taken before the Jarrah in the Varaku hive. The mask muffled and shifted the pitch of her voice, but her cadence was familiar. I'd heard that cadence before. Then she addressed Daelis as my child, and I knew that Fathomless Mother was Ranalae Nightshadow-Goldtree.

  I couldn't tell him until now. I couldn't tell this kind and loving person that his own mother hated him so much that she hired someone to kill him, and when that failed, she decided to imprison him underground to be tortured until he died. He grew up wanting nothing more than his mother's affection and approval, and she wasn't capable of giving him either.

  The truth has devastated him, but the loss of our children has even more. We are going to take them back from Ranalae and her Jarrah. Daelis has nothing but fury remaining for his mother, and nothing but love for the family he has chosen to create. Ranalae will not escape our combined wrath.

  We leave in the morning, as soon as the horses and provisions are prepared. Frald and a small number of her kin will accompany us to Jadeshire. We won't be the only party departing Sungate. A group of scouts is riding for Mountain Home. Not to conquer, but to spy and confirm a suspicion. I believe the Jarrah—slavers, torturers, kidnappers, reprehensible murderers—I believe they are made up of a single family line. The Nightshadows. If it's confirmed, the orcs wish to take revenge for the lives the Jarrah have taken here at Sungate. The Jarrah have no honor, and therefore they should be allowed no future.

  Day 150

  I need my children back. I need them home and safe with me. Yana especially. I've accepted that Shan is on the verge of becoming an independent adult, but Yana is still a young child. She's terrified of the above-ground world and she needs us to help her figure it out. Instead, she may be locked up alone without even Shan to comfort her. I wouldn't be surprised if Ranalae has separated them from each other in order to break them. I don't think she'll physically hurt them, since it seems she wants them for something, but I suspect she's eager to rip apart their minds. I need to get to them, and quickly.

  We are five days away from Jadeshire. Orc-bred horses are sturdy, high-stamina beasts that can cover more ground each day than the Jade thoroughbreds prized throughout the rest of the Bacra realms. Five days is the best we can do, though, and I hope my children aren't in any way damaged by the time we get to them. Five days... don't lose hope, my loves. We're coming for you.

  We're taking a short break by a creek so the horses can eat and drink. Daelis has been pacing since we stopped. He's frustrated that he can't get on and off the horse by himself, that he's already more sore than he thinks he should be, and that we're sitting in a canyon while his mother does who-knows-what to our children. I don't expect him to be calm through this. I'm barely managing it myself, and only because I spent two decades training myself to detach.

  He steps over a dozing orc and awkwardly embraces me. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not the one he's upset with. He sits down and looks up to watch me write.

  I sit and lean against his side. "I have this stupid reflex that wants to ask if you're all right, but I know you aren't."

  Daelis closes his eyes and exhales. "I want to say I'm surprised, but I'm not. More heartbroken than anything. I never intentionally hurt her, but she was determined to push me away. I had a conversation with my father about a year ago, one of the few quality conversations we've ever had. That's when he told me Mother never held me after I was born. Ever. He did, though. He held me for hours while I screamed and his staff rushed to find a wet nurse to hire. He's never liked children and he'd never held a baby before. He was a little terrified of me, but he wasn't willing to put me down until he knew I'd be cared for. He never expected she would react so negatively to her own child, but he thinks something in her broke when my sister was born still. I guess she hadn't known she was having twins so it was a strange surprise when I arrived as she was mourning. Father thought her grief was the reason she rejected me, but it must have been something deeper than that. She never once held me or hugged me or kissed me. She never sang or read or played with me. She avoided me so much that when we were forced to interact, I didn't know what to call her or how to behave. When I was a little older, she decided she would take me places, but only because she was expected to maintain the appearance that we were a normal family. We weren't, not even a little. My parents had an arraigned marriage that never grew beyond quiet loathing and resigned tolerance. I was a necessary inconvenience in their already inconvenient relationship. Distant and uninvolved parents are common in aristocracy. So common they're seen as normal.

  "I'm finding today that I don't hate my father like I thought I did. He's a cold person and I don't think he'd ever lower himself to speak to me if I wasn't his son, but I'm certain he'd never physically hurt me, let alone tr
y to kill me. For all of our verbal disagreements, he's never raised a hand against me. Mother did. More than once. Slaps mostly, but there was the incident where she knocked me down the stairs, most likely on accident because I was too close when she turned around. I broke my ankle. Instead of helping me, she called me 'a useless, worthless little twit of an elf' and left me sitting alone and injured at the bottom of the stairs. I was there about ten or fifteen minutes before she came back for me. She apologized, though even then it didn't feel sincere, and directed her attendant to help me to my room."

  Daelis falls silent. He holds my hand and lets his head rest on my shoulder.

  I kiss his hair and ask, "How did a block of ice and a salted viper create you? You're affectionate and have a kind heart. You've become a wonderful father. That had to have come from somewhere."

  "Oddly, my personality may have been intentionally forged by my father. He knew he couldn't give me what I needed, so he carefully vetted and hired people who could. My caretakers were phenomenal people—warm and loving, intelligent, compassionate. I'm surprised that you see those things in me, because I spent so many years hiding that I forgot who I really wanted to be."

  "You're my Daelis and I adore you. When we get home, before your father disowns you, I'm going to thank him for helping you become a better person than he is."

  Daelis holds his hand to his mouth to muffle a laugh. "I don't think he'll appreciate that."

  "Horses are ready. Let's move," Frald says from near the creek. The dozing orc gets up from the nearby ground and whistles to his horse. I need to learn the names of the good people who travel with us. There hasn't been time for pleasantries yet, and it's possible that there won't be before we arrive in Jadeshire. If we're not riding, we're resting so we can ride some more.

  I nudge Daelis's chin so I can kiss him, then say, "You'll like my parents. They're nothing like yours. They cherish Shan, though, so they'll have your head if you don't get your butt back on that horse and steal him away from your monstrosity of a mother."