Free The Shadows of Grace by David Dalglish Page A

error.”
    Jerico sat up and shifted so that he and Velixar faced each other on opposite sides of the fire. He watched the features slowly change on Velixar’s face, the shifting barely perceptible.
    “Your face,” Jerico said. “Is it true, or is it a lie?”
    Velixar tilted his head to one side, caught off-guard by the question.
    “It is as true as anything in this world,” he said at last.
    “Then my faith is no error,” Jerico said, a great weight leaving his chest. “Not if that is your truth. A shifting, liquid truth is something I want no part of. You call me obsolete. You say the world has moved on. So be it, for that means Ashhur has never moved. We moved from him.”
    Velixar shook his head, saddened.
    “Such faith and wisdom,” he said as he stood. “Wasted.”
    He waved his hand and whispered a spell. Velixar’s frown was the last thing Jerico saw before his eyes closed and a deep sleep took him.

    J erico endured the following weeks in silence. In spite of the pain in his legs, the ache in his arms, and the hunger in his belly, he no longer felt abandoned by Ashhur. It wouldn’t be long, he thought, before he went home. A few more days of pain were nothing compared to an eternity of glory. The war demons looked upon him with disgust, the priests and the tested with rage, but he endured.
    Whenever he pulled the carriage, Qurrah was nowhere to be found, and whenever they stopped, he would always be there. It was a strange game they were playing, Jerico figured, and he didn’t know the rules, just the pieces. Tessanna spoke little to him, and he never responded in kind. It seemed much of her fun with him was gone, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. One night, however, he received a very clear answer.
    He lay beside the fire, struggling to sleep. He had begun worrying that one of the tested would try to strangle him while he slept, and it made resting rather difficult. He had no problem with dying, but he didn’t like the idea of those skeletal hands touching his skin. When a finger touched him he startled, for he had heard no steps, no approach.
    “Jerico,” Tessanna said. He opened an eye and looked at her.
    “Hrm?” he grunted.
    “Qurrah’s gone,” she said. Her bottom lip quivered. “His sleep is deep. I need comfort.”
    He closed his eye and tried to turn from her. She grabbed his chin and pulled him back.
    “Comfort,” she said. He opened his eyes and saw the wildness in hers. “Isn’t that what you offer this world?”
    “Go to your husband,” he said.
    She laughed at him. “You finally speak, and that’s what you say? You’re a fool.”
    With that she grabbed his hair, pulled back his head, and kissed him. Too shocked to react, it was only when she thrust her tongue into his mouth and moaned that he pushed her away.
    “Your husband,” Jerico said, breathing heavily. “Go to him. Now.”
    He was not prepared for the hurt that suddenly crossed her face. Tears grew in her eyes.
    “I can’t,” she said, her voice cracking. “He doesn’t trust me. He loves me, but he doesn’t trust me.” The tears ran down the sides of her face as she crawled closer.
    “He blames me for everything,” she said. “His brother. Aullienna. Brug. Even Delysia. He hurts, and it’s my fault, Jerico, all my fault. He wants me to be something I’m not, something I can’t ever be, and he wants us to escape to a place we can never go.”
    Her quaking hand brushed the scar on his face. He felt her hurt washing over him, her sadness breaking down his resolve. She was pitiful, she was hurt, and she was beautiful.
    “What is wrong with me?” she asked. “I want someone to love me, but I hurt everyone…”
    She kissed him again, and this time he did not resist.
    “Everyone,” she whispered into his ear as she crawled atop his lap. She pulled off his shirt, and cursing himself, he let her do it. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and hating himself he let her slowly grind against