by Томас Рейд
Kael frowned. "And that's not good enough? Do the laws not treat everyone fairly?"
Aliisza shook her head. "That's not the point." She turned to face him. "Do you think we did the right thing, surrendering to Garin and Nilsa so they would bring Tauran back? To save his life, did we do what had to be done?"
Kael cocked his head to one side. "I don't know."
"Why do you doubt it?"
He sighed. "Because it felt wrong. Because it felt like we should fight harder to prove that we were right." He clenched his fists in anger. "Because Garin and Nilsa infuriated me with their absolutism."
"I think there's another reason," Aliisza said. "When it came time to free Kaanyr, Tauran claimed he couldn't break his word. Even though it probably meant the death of us all,
he wouldn't do it."
"It was the just, honorable thing to do," Kael said, feeling a bit indignant. "He gave his word."
"You argued with him at the time," Aliisza pointed out. "So did I."
Kael nodded. The guilt of his lapse made him state at his hands again in shame. "That was wrong of me," he said. "It was a moment of weakness."
"Nonsense," Aliisza said. "Tauran was willing to defy the High Council and his own god to go after Zasian. He was even willing to drag you along with him, and you didn't protest then. You went along with it, because you knew it was right. So what was different about freeing Kaanyr?"
Kael shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know what's right or wrong anymore."
"The reason we both became so upset with him is because we could see what he was really doing. He was giving up."
Kael cringed at his mother's words. "Don't," he pleaded. But he knew she was right.
"Look at me," Aliisza said. "He was ready to die. He had accepted it, even remarked that death would have been preferable to… what else he faced. He freed Kaanyr because he had accepted his fate."
"And we weren't ready for that," Kael said, understanding at last. "We wanted him to keep on fighting, so we could return and see his honor restored."
"Yes," Aliisza said. "He was trying to set us free. I even think, in a strange, weird way, he wanted you to see, one last time, the folly of slavishly adhering to the law. Releasing Kaanyr from the compulsion was the means to do both."
"But that put us in greater danger from Vhok. I don't
think Tauran intended for that to happen."
"Neither do I. That was just a miscalculation on Tauran's part. I think he believed that Kaanyr would take me with him and flee, and then he would convince you to go, too. In his mind, getting left behind was a just end for his crimes against Tyr. I think that he at last had come to understand just how absolute his own self-destruction was and was trying to avoid reconciling it within himself."
Kael considered everything Aliisza said. It hurt to think that Tauran would do that, but he couldn't deny that he had sensed it in the angel, too. "So now you're asking me if we should have brought him back here," he asked, "when maybe he didn't want to return?"
"Something like that," Aliisza said, and she smiled faintly. "We didn't want for him what he wanted for himself. He perhaps didn't think he could face up to his own flaws. Did we do him any favors? I don't know. But I do know this. You asked me if the law didn't treat everyone fairly. I can't answer that, but I can say, having watched the toll it took on Tauran — and you — trying and failing to stay within the strictures of a set of laws, that nothing should dictate our lives in such an absolute way."
"Oh, well said," a voice from behind them said. "I couldn't agree more."
Kael rose to his feet with his blade free and spun to see who had intruded on his conversation with his mother. A drow stood there, a little way back, on a flagstone path. Even in the soft light of the moon, leaves, and faint globes, it wasn't hard for Kael to see his own features in the midnight face. His own garnet eyes stared back at him, surrounded by a tousled mane of white hair. The dark elf
was slender of build, and his clothing bespoke wealth and perhaps even a little self-importance.
"Pharaun!" Aliisza said, rising and moving quickly toward the drow. "I wondered if you would show up."
Aliisza hugged the drow, then leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad you're here," she said.
"Yes, well," the drow answered, examining his own body as he spoke, "I have to tell you, I'm more than a little surprised myself. So much to figure out in such a short time. The matron mothers never even kept me guessing this much."
Aliisza tilted her head, considering. "I wonder, though, why we all managed to be here together. Maybe they wanted a chance for us to talk."
"More likely they want to listen in," Pharaun replied dryly. "See what we'll reveal."
"We've got nothing to hide," Aliisza said, sniffing.
"Speak for yourself," Pharaun answered with a wry chuckle. "I'd prefer that my life not be an open book for angels."
Kael found it hard to keep from squirming. That was his father standing there, his blood sire, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.
Tauran is my father, he told himself. He's the one who raised me.
"Well met, Kael," Pharaun said as Aliisza led him back over to the bench. Kael didn't say anything as the drow sized him up. "You are quite the impressive specimen, lad. I guess we can really cook, eh, Aliisza?"
Aliisza giggled, but there was a nervousness to it.
Kael scowled. "So, you're my father," he said at last, unsure how to proceed. A part of him was thankful for the chance
to visit with the drow while not under constant duress, but having the opportunity suddenly didn't seem quite so… beneficial. "Not what I expected. Or imagined."
"I would hope not," Pharaun replied with a self-satisfied grin. "I doubt dear Aliisza here could really do me justice. Even for one as glib-tongued as she, it would be hard to truly explain a Master of Sorcere. You must actually meet one to understand. And now you have! Consider yourself fortunate. It is not every day one has the privilege of doing so."
Kael's frown turned into a smirk. "Was he always this vain?" he asked Aliisza, put off by the drow.
Aliisza laughed, and it was genuine. Pharaun, Kael noted, was decidedly less amused. "Actually, yes," she said. "He was. Is. But don't hold it against him, Kael. If you had ever seen Menzoberranzan or met a matron mother, you'd understand."
Pharaun turned to Aliisza, feigning a pout, and said, "Just what have you been teaching our son, you troublesome tart?" he asked. "Clearly not any of the important things, that's plain to see. And will someone please explain to me why he's dedicated his life to the likes of such a stuffy, overblown cad as Torm?"
Incensed, Kael took a step toward the drow, his grip on his sword tightening.
Pharaun, his eyebrows raised in surprise, retreated a step, his hand slipping inside his tunic.
"Stop it, both of you!" Aliisza said, stepping between the two and planting her hands against their chests.
Rage still burned within Kael at the insult, but he grudgingly relaxed, and when his counterpart did likewise, Aliisza sighed and dropped her hands.
"Men," she grumbled, returning to the bench. "Come, sit with me, both of you. I don't know how much time we have, and I don't want to waste it watching your egos clash."
Kael grimaced, but he took a seat next to his mother. Pharaun positioned himself on her other side. The three of them sat in silence, staring at the water before them.
Finally, Aliisza spoke again.
"I'm going to tell you both a story. Each of you has heard some of it before. Neither of you has heard it all. When I'm finished, maybe each of you'll understand the other a bit more." She paused, drew a deep breath, and began.
The alu spoke of her time in the deep halls far below the surface of Faerыn, when she and Vhok had been together. She told the tale of how she'd met Pharaun, and of following him through what seemed like the entirety of the Underdark.
"Why?" Kael asked at one point. He couldn't wrap his mind around
the idea that the alu would care that much about the drow. What could she possibly see in him? he thought.
Aliisza shrugged. "He made me laugh," she said, as though hearing his thoughts. "He was witty, and when we were together, even though he knew I was fishing for knowledge, he didn't care." She sighed. "I think, looking back on it, that I liked the fact that he enjoyed my company so… honestly. I had never felt that from…" She trailed off, and there was a hint of wistfulness in her tone.
"Not even a little bit because I'm so irresistible?" Pharaun interjected. "You certainly seemed to act that way at the time."
Aliisza giggled, and she sounded like a giddy girl to Kael. He cringed. I don't want to know about that, he realized. The alu continued, explaining all the way to how the two
of them had wound up trapped within the dark recesses of a cave in a chunk of what had once been the Blood Rift. Her voice grew hoarse briefly as she spoke of Vhok's trickery and ultimate betrayal.
When she finished, the three of them sat quite still for a long time. "What a strange, mixed-up life this has become," she murmured. "How did things turn out so… convoluted?"
"Life just has a way of performing such tricks, Aliisza," Pharaun answered. "Whether because of the capriciousness of gods or the ambitions of others, you often find yourself tangled in a web of complicated design, wondering how you managed to get there. Look at me. I thought I was destined to rule Sorcere, but I wound up here, sitting in a make-believe enchanted garden, a prisoner of Tyr's servants, all because you decided to save my finger.
"Speaking of which," the drow said, changing the subject, "Just what do we expect to happen next? While this is a much improved prison compared to the one I enjoyed as a guest of the Spider Queen, I do not think they intend to leave us here. One of our captors made mention of a trial, I believe?"
"Yes," Aliisza said. "We will be called before the High Council, a collection of angels with Tyr's direct ear, to answer for our crimes."
"Oh, well, that shouldn't adversely affect me much," Pharaun said. "I have little to do with this whole affair."
The drow rose to his feet and looked at Kael. "I had what could perhaps be called a friend — if drow were inclined to consider such things — back in Menzoberranzan. A blade-master, one with his weapon and all that. You remind me a bit of Ryld. He saved my life a time or two, and I'm afraid I didn't always do my best to return the favor." Pharaun shrugged.
"Such is the way of my people, you see. But seeing as how you remind me of him, I'll perform the highly unusual act of honoring his memory by giving you some advice I probably should have passed on to him."
Kael wanted to chuckle. Advice from a father I hardly know? Should I be grateful?
Yet a part of him craved some deeper understanding of his sire. He wanted to see how much of himself might be hidden within the drow.
"Never get caught up too much in duty, honor, and sacrifice," Pharaun said. "Not because they're not worth it or because they leave you hollow and wanting in old age." He drew a deep breath. "No, it's because those things are inevitably tied to someone else's agenda, my dear boy. And by the time you discover their agenda and yours are no longer compatible, it's usually too late."
Kael considered the drow's words. "Are you speaking from experience?" he asked.
Pharaun chuckled. "Bright lad we've got there, Aliisza. Takes after his father." He turned to Kael. "You would think so, based on my sad tale, yes? But no, my woes came about purely because of my own selfish agenda. I got greedy. A far more laudable goal, in my esteemed opinion, but one equally as likely to get you into just as much trouble as duty, honor, and the rest."
Kael did smile, then.
"Listen, my boy," the drow said, drawing Kael out of his thoughts. "I can see you sitting there, trying to decide how much of me is in you, how much of your mother is tucked away in there, and how much of this angel, Tauran, who raised you, truly shaped you. Based on what I've heard tonight, my guess is, you're not certain how you will feel
about the answer."
Kael gave the drow a steady look. "Very astute," he said, but inside, his emotions were churning. Who am I? he wondered. What parts of me are really me?
"The truth is, the answer doesn't matter," Pharaun said. "At the end of the day, when the tale has been told and your reckoning is at hand, you've still made all the choices. At the end, you've only got one person, and one person only, to answer to. Yourself." His tone grew a bit wistful. "I learned that the hard way, standing on that Abyssal Plane as the spiders kept coming." He blinked and returned his gaze to Kael. "It's not me, it's not her" — he pointed to Aliisza—"it's not that angel who raised you. It's not even your god. Unless you're satisfied with the choices you've made regarding them and how you choose to deal with them, none of the rest matters."
Kael spent a long time thinking on what both his father and mother told him, and it was brightening into dawn when he felt himself being drawn away from that illusory place and back into his own body.
Chapter Thirteen
Tauran opened his eyes. The angel was home. Or at least, in a place that felt very much like home. He found himself in a bed in a chamber of white marble and warm sunlight. The scent of fresh flowers wafted through the room, and he spied several hanging baskets overflowing with green and blossoms. The sound of chirping birds and lazy breezes through wind chimes reached his ears from somewhere beyond the room.
I live, he thought. I don't deserve it, but I live. He pushed the thought that perhaps he didn't wish to remain living out of his mind and sat up.
Tauran drew a deep breath and sighed. His body felt tired but comfortable. He felt no taint of the evil that had pervaded him. Any residual aftereffects of his ordeal within the confines of that black, wicked cave seemed to have vanished.
The physical scars are gone, he thought. Would that it were so easy to heal the mental ones.
He thought of Kael and Aliisza. Did they survive? he
wondered. They must have. They were there, with me, in the cold. And… others.
Dissatisfied that he could not remember more of how he had returned to the Court, Tauran rose from the bed, found his clothing — but not his mace — and dressed. Though he missed it, it felt somehow fitting that his badge of honor had been taken from him. Still he felt anxiety. What will they do? What will Tyr decree? There is but one way to find out.
The angel headed for the door. He reached for it, but for some reason, he could not make himself touch the thing. Frowning, he tried again.
They have compelled me, he thought, a flicker of panic rising up inside him.
Tauran turned and moved toward the balcony and the sunlight. He passed through the doorway and out into the warmth. The breezes ruffled his hair. Celestia loomed before him, its high peak hidden in a ring of clouds. Suddenly, he wanted more than anything to go there, to glide along its vast surface, to sail over its valleys and ridges. He willed himself to spread his wings and fly out into the blue skies, to soar high above the clouds, but he simply could not.
I have been reduced to a common prisoner, he thought. Shame filled him. I brought it on myself.
Because I was doing what I thought was right! He wanted to rail against his predicament, to scream that he deserved better, but he recalled his vow to accept the consequences. Now the reckoning is at hand, he told himself. Can you no longer face it?
No. Tyr, please forgive me! I was trying to help!
Suddenly, the angel remembered Aliisza, standing in the
rotunda, next to Micus, crying out very similar words. I was trying to help, she had said.
She deserves better than this, even if I do not, he insisted.
The angel stormed back to the door and called loudly through it. "I must have an audience with the High Council at once!" When no one opened the door or even answered, he yelled even louder. "I demand to be heard! I am no forsaken fiend to be broken and remade. I accept my guilt, but the others do not deserve this punishment! Answer me!"
> Nothing.
The exertion of shouting made Tauran feel unsteady on his feet. Breathing hard, he sought the bed and sat upon it.
You've been sick, he reminded himself. And you no longer enjoy the beneficence of Tyr's healing presence.
That thought dug into him hard, made his throat constrict.
After a while, when he felt his strength return to him and impatience set in again, Tauran navigated the entirety of the room, examining every detail, seeking some sign of his fate. He followed every wall, studied every piece of furniture. As he walked, the chamber began to feel constricted, too small for him.
This is terrifying, he realized. How could anyone stand this for days on end? He thought of Aliisza, trapped in her own room, desperate to flee, to escape her fate. I did that to her. To all of those I brought here. It was done with a thought to kindness, but now I see how it is but a thin veil. The illusion against the truth cannot hold.
We are not so noble as we like to imagine.
With that thought came realization and acceptance that
he had done everything, that he had defied the High Council and Tyr himself, because somehow, he had come to realize this truth long before then. Even as noble as their purposes might be, angels were imperfect, not without blame.
Their punishment of me — and of my companions — will be imperfect too, he lamented.
When a knock came at Tauran's door, it was much later in the day. The sound startled the angel out of his brooding. "I cannot touch the portal," he called, standing.
The door opened and Garin peered in. "I am glad to see you up," he said. "May I enter?"
"Do I have a choice?" Tauran asked evenly. He was suddenly angry, indignant. You are no better than me, he thought, staring at the visitor. At the same time, he felt self-conscious, unsure of where to put his hands. "Could I keep you out if I wished it?"
