by Ryan Wieser
Falco knew how their allegiance moved her and he was quick to take her in his embrace. She hid her face in his shoulder. He kissed the side of her head, whispering into her ear, “Let’s get our son.”
* * * *
The Soar-Craft flew in almost complete silence, save the faint whirring of the engines. Jessop was seated near the front, beside Falco, Urdo, and Korend’a. Kohl sat beside Hode Avay, who manned the vessel. She leaned back in her seat, her eyes fixed on her own arm, on the new scar. Forcing herself to focus helped alleviate her dislike for flying.
Like a snake, the scar was woven around her perfectly. She thought of Calis, the man who had burned her and of the whip he had used. She did not know how such a weapon could burn her, but if any were going to develop a tool that could burn another Fire-Wielder, it would be the Fire-Wielders themselves. Like the Blade of Light—a weapon designed to fight the Fire. It had surprised Jessop that, like herself, Calis was part Kuroi, and yet he seemed to know nothing of the tribe. She wondered if Hydo knew of her Fire, and if so, for how long?
“What if he always knew?” Falco asked, listening in on her thoughts. “I feel as though Kohl may be right in that all of this is somehow related. There’s a reason Hydo killed your family with the Fire. If he had thought you were a Fire-Wielder, though, he knew you would have survived.”
She did not know how to voice what she so feared. “He was stronger than I ever anticipated, better than I had once believed him to be.”
He held her green gaze. “You knew who you were fighting.”
“What if I can’t kill him, Falco? He would have won our fight had you not intervened.”
“I’ve got it, Jessop. I can do it.”
“But—”
“I’ve got it.”
Jessop knew Falco was considered the best for a reason. She had seen it in the dream world. He had fought Hydo with an ease that she simply hadn’t been capable of. She had been wounded, and that had hampered her skill, but she had gotten wounded—when Falco hadn’t.
She had wondered so many things in the days that they had traveled the desert and many more since her time in the Blade. Urdo had called her arrogant once, suggesting that had she ever opened her mind to the ways of the Hunter, she might have learned much more during her time with them. Jessop knew she was conceited; her skill with Sentio and the sword so greatly outweighed that of others. But there was much she had not known, much she still did not know, and there were those who were simply still greater in skill. Her Sentio was perhaps finally stronger than Falco’s—but his skill with the sword, his ability to fight Hydo as he had ...She had been wrong to call herself the superior fighter.
She was turned in her seat to stretch her aching muscles, when her eyes fell on Dezane. Several rows back, he was seated with Teck Fay. The Oren and the Kuroi were natural enemies, both equally disapproving of one another’s abilities and methods of sorcery. She nudged Falco, who turned and followed her gaze.
“They were speaking before we even boarded the ship ...It’s been hours.”
She couldn’t make out any of their words, but Dezane leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the hidden face of Teck under the hood of his cloak.
“Do you know what they’ve been discussing?”
“Not at all, but I do know that that’s a whole lot of desert magic right there.”
* * * *
They made it to the portal wall of Haren’dul Daku without the interruption of another attack. Jessop was the first to disembark, her eyes scanning the wavy wall for any signs of a Void-Voyager. Falco had known many Voyagers, several of whom had retired from their illicit galaxy trafficking to live out their lives in Aranthol. She saw, some several hundred paces away, a small hut. It was a dilapidated wooden shack that appeared completely out of place beside the edge of a portal wall. But it was a start.
She ran to the small hovel, her boots light on the fine sand. She spun into the entrance and immediately dug her feet into the ground, forcing herself to an abrupt halt. Collapsed over the table was the body of a Voyager. His clothes were charred and his skin burned. Jessop backed out of the small space quickly, forcing the stench of burned flesh from her nostrils.
Falco had been right behind her. “One Voyager. Burned to death.”
“We will find another. Korend’a will go; he knows those who lived in Aranthol, and which survived the fall of the city.”
Jessop noted how he never directly said anything to blame Kohl for Aranthol. Had it been a different time, she might have said something. But it wasn’t and she didn’t, knowing that starting feuds over wrongs of the past would get them nowhere. This was Hydo’s doing—he had known she was close and had sent Fire-Wielders to deal with any Voyagers on the portal wall.
As they gathered with the others, she found herself speaking with Urdo. “If he also knows battle is inevitable, he can’t waste time killing every Voyager. We will fight in this territory or Bakoran, where he waits with the Oredan.”
Urdo took a long sip from his flask. “He is buying himself time. But for what, I cannot imagine. Many Hunters left with him that day ...this battle will not simply be Bakora versus Daharian, it will be Hunter versus Hunter.”
She feared many things, but she knew Jeco lived. It may have been in the presence of Bakora and deserter Hunters, but he lived. She would have felt it in her heart if it were otherwise.
Korend’a appeared at her side. “I will find you a Voyager.”
“I cannot ask you to do that alone.”
“Hode Avay travels with me and a handful of Kuroi. We will return safely.”
She looked past Korend’a and saw Hode Avay speaking with Falco. She did not know what Falco said to him, but the younger Hunter nodded eagerly. She turned her gaze to Urdo.
“His skill is beyond his years. He will help find a Voyager.”
As if he knew he was being discussed, the young Hunter approached, with Falco at his side. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return with a Voyager.”
Korend’a quickly embraced Jessop in his strong arms. She clung to him tightly. These were not the same times they had once lived in. Danger was omnipresent, the threat of death more real than ever before. She had spent many years with Korend’a at her side. They had fought together, they had trained together, and he had been there for Jeco’s entire life. She loved him as family.
She leaned her head against him. “Return to us, Korend’a.”
He simply hugged her tighter.
* * * *
Several warriors buried the body of the Voyager, offering him blessings for his next life in their different and unique ways. Jessop watched from a distance. She knew the words the young Kuroi man spoke, though she could not hear him over the winds. She had known the blessings that were done by the tribe when people had been killed all her life.
She recognized some of the movements and the prayer that a young Hunter she had not yet met performed as he too blessed the Voyager. She had been present at a Hunter burial before—Daro Mesa’s. Falco had killed him for her, as he had too greatly threatened their mission. She felt a sharp pain in her chest at the memory. Too many deaths had taken place at Falco’s hands and hers, and many more were still to come. She tried to force the thoughts away, focusing on two of Falco’s men who also performed rites for the Voyager. One involved chanting as sand was poured over the fresh grave. The other splashed strong liquor at the ground and gave what seemed to Jessop to be a toast to the man’s life. The group’s blessing was messy and incongruent, but it was beautiful.
It made her think of what would be done when she died. If this looming battle killed her, as this quest to reclaim Daharia had already nearly done, what rites would be performed for her soul? She thought on it long and hard and not for the first time. She had no answers and no instructions to give anyone. She thought that Falco would know what to do, better than anyone. It did not
surprise her that in these thoughts, she imagined herself dying in battle and Falco surviving. He was the best.
“As Hunters, we never really know how long we have.” Kohl’s voice startled her as he appeared at her side. He sat down silently, leaning forward to watch the rest of the burial with her. “You’d think it would make us live more recklessly—an attempt to try everything before it’s too late.”
“Or to live more cautiously.”
Neither said anything as the warriors finished the ceremony. It grew dark all around them. The heat had dissipated and their camp was once again nearly fully erected. “I couldn’t kill Hydo, when I fought him. He bested me,” she admitted.
“Falco will kill him.”
Jessop shifted in her seat. She did not want to admit what she thought. She too believed that Falco possessed the skill to kill Hydo. But she feared for the Hunters as they prepared to fight their brothers and mentors. They had allegiances she simply didn’t have. But as she thought on it, she knew she had developed bonds she did not wish to live without. Korend’a, Dezane, and Urdo. Urdo, who had become a mentor to her, had guided her through the Hunter life since learning her true nature. He had been the only one who could teach her when she’d believed she needed no further instruction.
“They say he’s the best there ever was for a reason, Jessop. He can kill Hydo. And the rest of us ...We know which side of the war we are on.”
She turned and looked into his warm amber eyes. “Hanson raised you.”
“He took your son. He left me to die.”
She continued to stare at him, wondering.
“I know he has to die, Jessop.”
“How do you always do that?”
“What?”
“Know my thoughts.”
He arched his brow at her, as if it were obvious.
“I know you’re not in my mind, Kohl.”
“I just know you. Call it a side effect of being completely in love with you still.”
“Kohl…”
He shook his head, his golden hair falling about his scarred face. “It would be beneath all three of us if I ever pretended I wasn’t.”
She grabbed his hand. Her fingers curled around his and rested between them in the sand. “I would have never let him kill you.”
They remained quiet. They both knew of whom she spoke.
Finally, he broke their silence. “Out of sympathy.”
She shook her head. This time, she could not hold back the tears. Silently, they streaked her burned, dried cheeks. “Out of love.”
She thought of all she had done to him; the pain and torment, the lies and manipulation. She thought of all he had done to her. He had nearly killed her. He had haunted her every thought for so long it had become near impossible to sleep or rest. She knew how she had hated Falco for having ever pushed her in Kohl’s direction—not simply because she had betrayed her marriage to advance their cause, but because she had truly grown to care for Kohl in the process. Somewhere along the way, he had stopped being collateral. She had loved him and Falco had loved him, and Kohl loved them both in return. But the love, it was different. It was all different.
“I know you do not love me as you love him. And I can see it, you know?” he whispered. His voice was cracking softly over tears. “And I love him too. He’s my brother, and my leader now. All that hate ...It was misplaced. You’re right to love him more, Jessop. He is the better of us.”
“I’m so sorry, Kohl. I know we keep promising to stop apologizing to one another. Maybe what we did to each other is simply beyond repair. But Falco and I ...we were made to be with one another. We have lived as one for so many years. It’s how we will always live.”
He raised their hands and kissed her knuckles, his lips wet with tears as they pressed against her skin. “I know.”
* * * *
Jessop rested her head on Falco’s chest. It was late. Most of the camp slept, save a few. She found it near impossible to close her eyes in peace, for many reasons, not least of which was Hydo’s ability to enter her dreams. She wondered where Korend’a and Hode Avay were. They had taken one of the Soar-Craft, unpacking all its supplies before leaving, and crossing the desert they had just made their way over. She valued their loyalty and their commitment. And as much as she wondered where they were and how long it would take to track down a Voyager, she also wondered about Kohl. He slept several tents over, alone. She knew he had spent several hours with Mar’e, who still rested. But he hadn’t stayed with her.
Jessop knew how easily she could be in his mind. She knew how easily she could make him forget all of the pain she had caused him. He could forget he had ever been a Hunter, he could forget ever knowing her ...She could build a new life for him.
“It’s not your place to control his life. Not anymore than you already do.” Falco spoke. She, consumed by her thoughts, hadn’t realized he was awake and in her mind.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you mean, Jessop,” he interrupted, sitting up. She rolled to the side. They could see one another perfectly in the dark and she could see the look in his eyes.
“We both know he already loves you to the point of doing anything for you. Why must you try to control him further?”
“I’m not trying to control him further. I am trying to set him free.”
“Then let him fall out of love with you on his own, in his own way. Stop messing with his head.”
“You think that’s what I’m doing?”
He reached for her. “No. I think you love him and you hate to see him suffer.”
Before Jessop could say another word, a loud commotion broke out. She and Falco were quick on their feet, ducking out of their tent in search of the noise. A small fire burned thirty paces away, near the remaining Soar-Craft. Surrounding the fire were a handful of Kuroi and a group of Falco’s army—yelling and pushing one another.
Jessop and Falco ran over to the group, immediately forcing themselves into the middle of the fray. Jessop found the angriest of the Kuroi warriors and spoke with him, as Falco addressed his own men.
“Vara far’a harana?” What is the cause of this fight?
“Kasei ves far’a harana, far’a daku, far’a sus kesio,” the young warrior answered her, his voice high and angry. “Nas sus kesio, kesio ni Kuroi!” Jessop bristled at his words. The soldier had complained that they traveled to fight, and possibly die, for just a boy.
She turned from the warrior and moved to her husband’s side. The soldier had long red hair and dark eyes. His skin was covered with scars and black-inked designs. “Did you say you regretted risking your life for just a boy—for my boy?”
At her words, the group fell silent. The sound of the small fire flickering seemed, suddenly, thunderous. She took a small step closer to the man. “Did you?”
At her anger, the small fire grew into a raging inferno, a wall of flames rising up behind her, threatening them all. The man looked to Falco, instead of her. “I didn’t mean it as it sounds. But this is going to be a war over one child…”
Jessop moved forward, prepared to kill the man. But she had not been fast enough. Falco twisted his hand in the air and just like that, the soldier fell dead in the sand, his neck snapped.
One of the fallen soldier’s comrades leapt, without thinking, in defense of his friend. Falco grabbed him by the neck and held him out. The strength of his well-fortified body, reinforced with the might of Sentio, allowed him to hold the man inches off the ground, choking him slowly.
“That boy is my son—my son! If you are not here to fight for me then you are here to fight me.” With a mighty toss, he threw the man to the ground. The soldier rolled through the sand, coughing and clutching at his neck.
“You think I haven’t heard the whispers? Those who wonder if being reunited with my brothers has perhaps turned me soft? I wi
ll not tolerate dissent and there is no room for disloyalty amongst my armies.”
Jessop knew his anger, though it had been some time since seeing it. She moved back, and with her, in tow, moved the Kuroi. The soldiers knew how their words had betrayed Falco, and two instantly fell to their knees, their heads bowed low as they offered their loyalty once more. Two others did not. One, with arms made entirely of metal, grabbed mechanically at Falco.
Falco maneuvered out of the machine-like grip, grabbed the leg of the second man, wrenched it up and threw him to the ground. He leapt back and elbowed him in the face—two quick strikes—before reaching down and finding the man’s blade on his hip. He unsheathed it and using Sentio, shot it into the chest of the warrior with the metallic limbs.
Falco flipped to his feet and pulled the blade loose before the man hit the ground. Spinning quickly, he crouched down and forced the weapon into the throat of its original owner. He had killed them both within seconds. Before any could speak, Jessop heard the ringing sound, the clear noise made when a knife was being thrown through the air. She froze the blade in the darkness with ease, her hand outstretched in the cool night air. Falco narrowed his eyes on it and then on the soldier who had thrown it—the man he had previously tossed to the ground. He made for the weapon but another got there first.
A strong hand wrapped around the hilt and pulled it from the air, breaking Jessop’s mental hold on it. The hand belonged to none other than Kohl. With quick expertise, Kohl forced the blade through the soldier’s side, carving through the flesh of his back with ease, throwing him to the desert floor to bleed out.
He approached their fire, bare-chested with his blond hair loose. A splattering of blood painted his strong, scarred chest. Several crimson droplets stained his face. He flipped the blade in his hand and offered the hilt to Falco, who took it with an approving nod.
“Let it be known amongst all of my troops by dawn—you will fight for my sword or you will die on it.”
Chapter 17
Haren’dul Daku