by Ryan Wieser
Hanson nodded, waiting. She reached to her throat and gingerly undid her cloak, lowering it as she slowly turned her back to him. Jessop pulled her dark braid over her shoulder and revealed the nape of her neck to the Hunter—revealed her burn to him. She could feel his eyes boring into her, staring at the image of the intricate sword centered in a perfect circle, burnt into her flesh many years ago. It had been done with the smallest of wires, slowly and repeatedly, until the scar accurately depicted a beautiful encircled blade.
It had been hell.
The old Hunter cleared his throat before speaking. “Bane did this?”
Jessop nodded, slowly readjusting her cloak back into place. She turned around to face him. He was touching the back of his neck, as though checking that his own burn was still fixed in place.
“Did he tell you why? Why would he burn you with our mark—with the Hunter’s sigil?” As he spoke, he lowered his hand from his neck to his chest, where the identical sigil was engraved into his leather.
She could see the disgust in his eyes. He stared at her as though she had permanently captured a part of his identity and he couldn’t figure out how to take it back. “Of course he told me why.”
He waited on her answer, his silver brow furrowed.
She shrugged, as though the answer were obvious. “He told me it was his mark.”
* * * *
The Glass Blade appeared to be made of almost entirely diaphanous materials, translucent chutes and glass floors and walls, with clear tubes connecting rooms; see-through bullets that zipped upward and downward through transparent shafts that weaved through crystal glass walls and floors. Every few paces a refracted ray of red light struck across the floor, but for the most part, the building seemed near impenetrable to the outside elements. Jessop thought of Aranthol—the Shadow City where she had come from—and all of its blackened corners and darkened halls. It was a place where secrets hid well. Yet, something about the intentional transparency of the Azguli fortress where the Hunters lived made Jessop think that it was perhaps even a better hiding place for secrets to dwell.
Jessop followed Hanson Knell through a glass corridor, looking underfoot into labs and offices and training centers. She saw men writing scripts and forging weapons, young boys fighting with staffs, and even a room where a group bowed down in prayer towards a glass mantle holding an effigy of a Hunter’s sword, their sigil proudly displayed on a banner behind it. The Glass Blade was more than Jessop had ever imagined it to be. It was a city within a city.
She had asked Hanson Knell if she could wait to see the young Hunter recover before being taken to the Assembly Council, but the old Hunter had refused. He had reminded her in no uncertain terms that her presence was entirely unwelcome. The Glass Blade was a sanctuary for Hunters—and Hunters were male.
“You have a light step.” His voice startled her. He hadn’t said a word to her since leaving the medical floor.
“As do you,” she said. Jessop had spent more than half her life with Falco Bane, and she was finally in the Glass Blade with the renowned Hunter, Hanson Knell, who dragged her to the Assembly Council… the Council that would undoubtedly want to know every small detail about Falco. She didn’t have time for chitchat with the old Hunter—she needed to concentrate on what was to come.
“Bane taught you that quietness?”
Jessop stopped walking at his question, only a few feet away from the room she was certain the Council resided in. The old Hunter came to a stop and turned to her.
She eyed him up slowly. “Survival taught me that skill—and a great deal more. I saved your life today, Hunter, because of such skills.” She kept her voice low, her green eyes locked on to him.
“Well, they are skills you need to explain knowing. They are not meant—” he began, flustered.
Jessop shook her head, interrupting him. “If you want to hear stories about how I came to be the way I am, it’s not going to happen. I will walk out of here right now and I’m fairly certain you know I’m capable of it.”
He narrowed his gaze, but remained silent.
“But, if you want to hear about Falco Bane and Aranthol, if you want to possibly learn something that could help your hunt, then stop wasting time demanding answers I won’t give and lead me to your Council.”
His blue eyes held her stare with contempt. “There are no questions that will go unanswered if asked by the Council—your truth will be forced from you and it will not be pleasant.”
Jessop slowly shrugged her shoulders. “There are no horrors your Council could present me with that I haven’t survived before.”
“If you’re thinking you can resist—don’t. No matter the suffering you’ve undergone I would advise compliance,” he spoke. His tone had changed from threatening to worrisome, as though he truly didn’t want to see anyone endure the Council’s methods.
“Ensure your Council asks the right line of questioning and you will find me to be most compliant.”
He nodded at her slowly and took a deep breath before speaking. “I don’t know if you were just lucky today or if you’re one of the best damn fighters I have ever seen. Maybe it’s both. I don’t know you, I don’t trust you and I am too old to pretend I like you being in my home. But I know enough about the scum we hunt to know what they do to women like you—so I’m going to offer this just once.”
The old Hunter lowered his voice, leaning close to Jessop. “Because you risked your life for ours you can leave Falco Bane’s blade with me and leave this place, I’ll explain away your disappearance, and you can start your life over elsewhere. But if you stay… well, I have only ever seen one person wield that blade with such proficiency, he nearly brought ruin to us all… and you’re about to meet the man who mentored him. The man who has hunted him for over a decade.”
She nodded slowly. “Hydo Jesuin.” Everyone who knew anything about the Hunters knew the name of Falco Bane’s mentor. She had heard it cursed a thousand times. Hydo Jesuin, in many ways, was the man responsible for so much of what had happened to her.
“Lord Jesuin, Leader of the Assembly Council of the Hunters of Infinity, Lord and Protector of the Blade of Light and the Daharian Galaxy,” Hanson corrected.
“I don’t fear your Lord seeing what my life with Bane has made me. I’m not leaving,” she answered firmly.
He shook his head at her, hissing his disappointment. “This may surprise you but I am one of the more pleasant Councilmen. I fear what some of the others will do when they see a woman who has learnt a role no woman is fit for. The Council does not train females.”
Jessop slowly crossed her arms over her chest. She could see Bane in her mind clearly. “The Council didn’t train me.”
Hanson shook his head at her. “No, we didn’t. You were trained by the only man to ever nearly bring the Council to its knees.”
Jessop stared up into his determined eyes. “That’s not my fault.”
Hanson arched his brow at her, his lips tight around his teeth as he spoke. “No, but it will be your problem.”
She glared at him, refusing to voice what she had immediately thought—no, it won’t be.
“I choose to stay.”
Hanson Knell scoffed at her. “I am trying to help you. You’re an idiot—and I will not be indebted to an idiot.”
“And I won’t be intimidated by a fool,” she hissed back.
“What do you want, girl? The Glass Blade does not house women; this is a sanctuary for a brotherhood of men.”
“The Glass Blade is the one place I am safe from those who would seek to drag me back to Aranthol,” she answered.
“You seem capable of protecting yourself.”
“I need to be here. Only Infinity Hunters can gain access to the Blade. I am safest here. And you will need me.”
“There is not a woman alive who is needed by the Hunters of Infinity.”<
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“Oh, I think not long ago in a local tavern two such Hunters might have felt greatly in need of me,” Jessop snapped at the old Hunter.
“Under your wounded eyes I can see your true self. Perhaps from too many years with him and too many years in the Shadow City, there is a darkness in you, girl,” Hanson Knell growled down at her, his hot breath sticking against her pale cheek as one of his strong hands wrapped tightly around her arm.
Jessop slowly inclined her head, so that her own words barely needed to travel before falling over his ears, as she slowly, forcefully, pulled his hand off of her. “Indeed there is. And don’t you ever forget it.”
* * * *
The room was entirely dark barring a single sphere of white light, emitting from a glass circle in the floor. Heavy curtains were drawn across all of the walls, though Jessop suspected she wasn’t supposed to be able to see that they were just curtains. In the blackness the glass circle in the floor cast a globe of light shooting upwards, forming a matching circle on the high ceiling. Jessop understood the purpose of the room. It was designed so that the one could be seen by the many, without ever seeing the many in return. A room shrouded in darkness with one fixed light, so that she felt isolated, vulnerable, and exposed, so that she fixated on who sat in the darkness as they sifted through her mind. She had known the purpose of the room as soon as Hanson had disappeared into the shadows. He seemed pleased to be leaving her in the dark, hoping she would feel alone. But Jessop knew that they were not alone.
Hidden in the shadows were the members of the Assembly Council. She glanced around the dark space, forcing herself to conceal a smile. She knew that until she stepped into the white beam of light, they could not see her. But she, unbeknownst to any of the Councilmen, could see them perfectly well. She was of the Shadows—this tactical room had no effect on one who saw better in darkness than any nocturnal beast could.
She could see them all, cloaked, sitting at a silver panel desk, staring at her with tense apprehension. They did not reveal much, restricting their movement and using Sentio instead of spoken words. She knew better than to attempt to pick up on any of their communications—she didn’t know the full extent of their abilities and she did not wish to start this meeting by alerting them to her own ability to pry.
She took a reluctant step forward, her boot illuminating, and her shadow disappearing into darkness. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust under the ray of light. The Councilmen did not know she could see and hear them, or that she could sense them entirely—they were not prepared for one of the Shadow City. Jessop found it odd that their room was designed to interrogate an Azguli—whom the Hunters rarely hunted—and not for an Arantholi, whom they always hunted.
She pushed the thought away, knowing their unpreparedness worked in her favor today. The most famous of Hunters sat on the Assembly Council, led by none other than Hydo Jesuin. Hydo. She had to fight to keep her gaze off of him, to keep her heart steady. The mere thought of his name filled her with too many memories. She could still close her eyes and hear Falco cursing his former mentor. But Jessop couldn’t be thinking of Falco Bane, not with the Assembly Council looking her over for signs of him.
Finally, a voice filled the room. “Hunter Knell tells us you fought to save his and his mentee’s lives in an encounter with Aren insurgents. That you bear our mark and that you wield our one true enemy’s sword and fighting style—or, as it were, my fighting style.”
Jessop looked around the dark space, intentionally allowing her gaze to trail despite being able to follow the voice to its source easily—Hydo. She didn’t need him to know she could see him perfectly through the darkness. “These things are true.”
“Why?”
She glanced to the floor, forcing her stare away from the Council Lord. “Why what?”
“Why did you help them?” His voice was tight and pressing. The perfect voice for quick and grueling interrogations.
“They were under attack,” she began, but she had barely finished answering before being pressed with another question.
“How did you help them?”
Jessop glanced over the Council, knowing that averting her gaze too much would be just as telling as if she watched them intently. “With my blade.”
“You’re mocking me,” he scoffed.
She glanced about the room. “Is that a question?”
The Hunter Lord carried on, ignoring the digression. “Tell me, do you fight with Falco Bane’s blade?”
Jessop flicked her cloak back to reveal the blade’s hilt. They could see her, from their position of power, where they sat shrouded in darkness, so certain that whoever stood before them couldn’t see them too. But she could see them. She could see them staring at the blade on her hip, with complete astonishment. They pushed their thoughts amongst one another, whispered bewilderments and questions, all of them wielding Sentio, certain she could never follow the telepathy of men.
And then Hanson told them.
“Fellow Hunters, I believe I witnessed the woman use Sentio this morning, mind your thoughts,” he warned.
The room went silent.
Jessop readjusted her cloak tightly around herself. She waited until Hydo Jesuin’s voice once again filled the darkness. “Is this true?”
“As I already told Hunter Knell—many years with Falco Bane taught me how to understand the smallest aspects of Sentio, I could close a door, hear a trace thought—but no, I cannot do what any one of you could do,” she repeated her explanation.
“You understand we can—and we will—verify these claims, girl? We can enter your mind and check the stories you tell,” Hydo Jesuin threatened.
Jessop forced her gaze downward to stop herself from staring him in the eye.
“Of course I understand.” Jessop couldn’t help but wonder if the Council had even been listening—of course she would understand having her mind brutally ransacked. Falco had spent years pushing through her thoughts, bringing forth recollections, disappearing certain memories, and speaking to her without ever making a sound.
“And, apparently you wear our sigil—who is your true kind?” Hydo Jesuin carried on, his voice travelling around her. Jessop understood his tactic, he overwhelmed his subject with the darkness, the quick voice, the never ending line of questions that he asked so swiftly—certain he would be able to catch someone out in a lie. Every living being in Daharia received a mark of their heritage on their ten and third birthdays—except for Jessop. She had lived many years with no such brand.
“Bane gave me the mark—he said it was his brand and I was…” she struggled over the words that she had practiced, knowing one day she would need to say them.
She took a deep breath, staring at her leather boots in the white light. She crossed her arms defensively over her chest.
“He said the brand was his and that I too, was his.” She took a slow breath before continuing. “I knew his Hunter past, as everyone knows, and that the Glass Blade had become impenetrable to anyone except an Infinity Hunter after what happened with Falco Bane, so I knew if there was one place I would be safe from him, it would be here.” She pictured the mystical mark on Hanson Knell’s hand, the mark that acted like a key to the Glass Blade; the mark that Falco did not have for it had been made to keep him out of the Hunters’ fortress.
She felt the lone tear travel over her cheek.
“How old were you when he took you, girl?” The soft voice was that of another Hunter, neither Hydo nor Hanson. Jessop kept her gaze down to avoid finding the man’s face in the shadows.
“Twelve,” she whispered, wiping the tear away. She could hear the man breathe disgust.
“While what she has endured is most regretful, there simply is no place in the Glass Blade for a woman,” another Councilman began, but another quickly interrupted him.
“We cannot release her into Azgul, Hanson has told us how
dangerous she is.”
“Hunters, please.” The voice, which silenced them all, belonged to Hydo Jesuin. “She is an ally to us here.”
The room remained silent, waiting for him to explain. Jessop held her breath, as anxious as the Councilmen.
“Girl, you understand that we do not train women to be Hunters, and yet, here you are, already trained, according to Hunter Knell, and while we have no tolerance for this, we might have use for it. We have hunted Falco Bane for over a decade. After his dissent, we made the Glass Blade an impenetrable fortress, but Falco followed suit, didn’t he? He forged the Shadow City, and through rare and dark magics, he made it as impenetrable as our Blade. So, girl, if you wish to stay here, under our protection, then you must agree to help us. Help us find entrance into Aranthol,” he offered.
Jessop suppressed a smile. “Of course.”
“Don’t sound so eager—we will need to verify your story, and you will need to be here for some time, to have your loyalties confirmed, before any venture back to Aranthol occurs. Your pains did not end, unfortunately, when you escaped the Shadow City,” he cautioned.
“I can handle it,” she insisted.
“Expect the worst, girl, and know not everyone has survived,” he warned.
She glanced up through the darkness, “I’ve already faced your worst,” she reminded them, resting her hand on her hilt and turning the sheathed blade in the light, “And I took this from him.”
* * * *
The enormous mirrored room offered never-ending repetitions of Jessop’s reflection. She could see her own appearance, and that of the Councilmen’s, reflected all around, dozens of the moving black uniformed figures angled down the long room until they obscured into darkness. She moved and fifty reflections of the same movement occurred. It pained her eyes greatly, so she focused instead on the vat of shining crystal fluid before her. The focal point of the nauseating mirrored room was a single drop-in pool. A rectangle, barely longer than her own height, half that in width, carved into the glass floor, with the Hunter’s sigil etched into the ground beneath. Were one walking without paying much regard, they could fall straight off the edge of the floor and into the crystalline liquid.