The Shadow City

by Ryan Wieser

  Jessop nodded slowly, her hand immediately reaching for the scar on her abdomen. “Yes, he loved me.”

  “I imagine he still does.”

  Jessop locked eyes with her old friend. “He tried to kill me.”

  “We all know what they say about love and hate.”

  “Regardless,” Jessop spoke, readjusting her position so she could lean against the cool wall. “I could never love him back.”

  Mar’e arched a well-defined brow. “Even though you slept with him?”

  “I did what I had to do for my family. Falco is my everything, as is our son. I would do it all over again if it meant securing Jeco’s future.”

  Mar’e shifted in her seat. “All of it? Would you even let him stab you?”

  Jessop took a deep breath, thinking of the wound he had inflicted, knowing how close to death she had come. “I deserved it, I know that. But if he ever tried it again, I’d kill him in an instant.” Only as she said the words did Jessop actually know them to be true. She wouldn’t agree with Falco; she wouldn’t kill Kohl for his trespasses against either of them. That did not mean she would ever let him trespass her again.

  Mar’e looked at her with a perplexed stare. Jessop knew it was complicated. Perhaps too complicated to explain to anyone. She ran her hand over her scar. “I won’t kill Kohl for his attempt on my life, not after all I did to him. But if he comes after us—my son, my husband—I would stop him.”

  Mar’e slowly got to her feet and offered Jessop a hand up. Jessop took her hand, standing and stretching out.

  “And will he?”

  Jessop looked back to her friend. “Will he what?”

  Mar’e shot her an obvious look. “Will he come after you?”

  Jessop saw his face, his pale-yellow eyes and blond hair. His star scar. She thought of the nightmares she had. Of the memories that plagued her. She could close her eyes and remember his hand on her face, how quickly he had become devoted to her. She saw the way her treachery had destroyed him. She had seen his heart break. “Undoubtedly.”

  * * * *

  Jessop turned the corner and nearly collided with Falco. He had Jeco in his arms and a stern look on his face. “Where were you?” he demanded.

  She ran her hand over Jeco’s soft dark hair. “In the Hollow—as I told you I would be.”

  Falco nodded. “Right. Sorry. Look—we need to get to the Council Assembly room.”

  Jessop noticed the strain in his voice, the tension in his face. She knew something was wrong and found her way into his mind. He welcomed her presence, their eyes locking as he showed her all he knew. Jessop’s heart began to race.

  “Korend’a,” she whispered, pulling free from the images Falco shared with her.

  They rushed to the Council Assembly room and found Urdo, Trax, Dezane and the others waiting for them already. While all of the men speculated in harsh voices, wondering why they had been called by Falco, Dezane sat at the panel table in silence. His wide eyes looked sadly down at his hands. Jessop couldn’t help but stare at him, wondering if he looked so despondent because he had somehow foreseen such an event happening.

  Jessop took Jeco from Falco, moving into the corner of the room where she could watch them all as they sat at the panel. Jessop was still keenly aware of her position in the Blade. The only woman to ever don the Hunter mantle, the one who had tricked them, betrayed them…The one their true Lord and Protector was married to. She didn’t need to sit at the panel table to remind them of her presence, to be revered…or feared. She commanded great attention from wherever she stood.

  Falco crossed his arms over his chest. “Everyone, sit, please, we do not have time to spare.”

  “Mama,” Jeco cooed, pulling at Jessop’s braid.

  “Shh, darling,” she silenced him, kissing his hand away.

  Falco waited until the room was completely still before speaking. “Aranthol has come under attack. As half of my army has come to the Red City, the Shadow City was left vulnerable. A resistance is being held by our closest friend and advisor, Korend’a, but they will not be able to hold off the attackers much longer.”

  Jessop scanned the faces of the men. Most of them appeared unconcerned, having spent years associating Aranthol simply with the outlaws they hunted. Had they heard six months ago that the Shadow City was under siege, they would have rejoiced.

  Urdo leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the desk. “How have they gained access to your city? We, in this room, spent many years trying to learn a way; it seems odd another could do it so quickly.”

  Falco nodded, and began to loosen the strings of his tunic collar. “We hid the city for many years through mage magic, and when our son was born, we implemented the same system you have here in the Blade. A mystical mark that would act as a key.”

  Falco drew his tunic low, showing the scar in the center of his chest, fresher than the hundreds of others it laid atop. It was a shape formed entirely out of the letters of their son’s name, and only a small handful of Arantholi bore the mark—residents and those on probation needed to be escorted always by a marked member of the guard.

  “How could we have never realized?” Urdo shook his head.

  Dezane finally spoke, his deep voice low. “More importantly, how did another realize it sooner?”

  Falco fixed his tunic and once again crossed his arms over his chest. “I imagine the leader of this attack realized it after seeing the scar on Jessop.”

  Jessop ran her hand over Jeco’s ear, feeling shame for some reason. She did not want him to hear that the fall of Aranthol might be, in part, her fault.

  “How do you figure? Jessop has been in the Blade for…” Urdo let his voice trail off, realizing.

  Teck Fay spoke, his cloak low over his face. “Who leads this rebellion against your homeland?”

  Jessop pushed away from the wall and stood beside Falco. She looked over the Council, readying herself for whatever reaction they might have. “Kohl O’Hanlon does.”

  The small group of men immediately erupted in speech—some hurling questions at Falco, others turning and speculating amongst themselves. Jessop entered their minds with ease and trespass, not needing to seek permission, should any even notice her. Trax was relieved to learn Kohl lived, Urdo was keen to engage in a war, and Teck thought only of the mark Falco had displayed and of the mage magic used to conceal the Shadow City.

  Falco waited patiently for their outburst to settle. They had all been hunting Kohl and the others since Falco’s arrival. Jessop understood that it would be a relief to learn that their fallen brother lived, as Trax clearly felt, but relief for his beating heart was all they were permitted. Jessop knew Trax was not a sympathizer to the old regime, that none who sat in the room were, but they had to always be vigilant to prevent their old camaraderie from influencing their actions.

  After several minutes, Falco simply cleared his throat, and they were all silenced once more. “There is more to know.”

  He waited a long moment, his gray eyes slowly traveling over them. “Korend’a has reported that a wave of soldiers, many simply hired weapons, is headed toward the Red City—being led by none other than Hanson Knell.”

  Urdo stood, while Teck seemed to retreat further into the shadows. Trax appeared shocked, an expression Jessop wasn’t accustomed to seeing on her friend. Urdo came around the panel table. “Knell would never use mercenaries.”

  Falco locked eyes on the older Hunter. “Wouldn’t he? With no Hunter army to command and a disgraced Hydo to protect?”

  Urdo narrowed his eyes on Falco, contemplating the possibility. Trax shifted in his seat. “Of course, the reports we heard before of mercenaries being spotted…”

  Urdo crossed his arms over his chest, a look of disappointment in his eyes. “Regardless, I maintain my previous position. Mercenaries or not, Hydo and Hanson do not have the
forces necessary to combat us.”

  Jessop shifted Jeco in her arms. “Even if they recruited from Haycith?”

  Urdo shook his head, but he seemed less certain. “I doubt it. We recruit from Hydo’s home town. There are many loyal to him, but not enough to forge a standing army.”

  Falco crossed and uncrossed his arms. “Well, a standing army they seem to have. Two, actually. We all know Hydo Jesuin comes from one of the wealthiest families in Daharia. Money can buy soldiers. Those soldiers have already set upon the Shadow City; the rest march on Azgul as we speak.”

  Jessop hugged Jeco tightly. There was only one fear in her heart, and that was something happening to her son. Falco was untouchable, and she could enter any man’s mind with more proficiency than any person in existence, but Jeco was just a baby. He looked up at her with his large gray eyes and smiled.

  * * * *

  They had adjourned their Council meeting, allowing a recess for everyone to digest the information Falco had shared. Aranthol was under attack, and Azgul would soon face the same threat. Jessop had ignored the news, forcing herself to simply attend to her son without any distraction. She played with him and fed him his supper. She was disappointed when he fell asleep so quickly, and for the longest time she simply held him tightly in her embrace.

  As the hours passed, she finally allowed herself to contemplate the reality of the situation. She knew what the solution would be. Despite every one of them taking their leave from the Assembly Council meeting to deliberate on options, expected to return with fresh ideas, she knew—they all knew—what the solution was.

  She found Falco bathing, watching his strong, scarred back turn under the pouring water. She knew he sensed her before she spoke. “You know what must be done.”

  He turned under the water, fixing his gray stare on her. “There are other possibilities.”

  She held his gaze. They both knew there weren’t. She tightened her vest and readjusted her sheath at her hip. “All that is left to decide is who will stay and who will go.”

  He stepped out from under the water and approached her, pulling her into his wet embrace. “We could find another way.”

  She offered him a soft smile. “Not if we wish to see both cities survive. Not if Korend’a is to have any hope of a rescue.”

  He said nothing, but his eyes grew darker. She knew he held back tears, as she did the same. She rested her small hand against his face, covering half of his long scar. “You must stay here and defend the Blade. It is the priority.”

  He nodded, turning his face in her hand to kiss her palm. “You will take what is left of my army and any more you need.”

  She shook her head. “No, I will be taking Dezane’s army with me. He will want it that way.”

  He raised his hands and cupped her face. “Jessop…Kohl will be waiting for you.”

  She knew as much. “He’ll surrender or he’ll die on my blade, Falco.”

  A single tear escaped from his dark eyelashes. “Swear it. I know how you feel about this and I cannot let you go knowing he could…knowing you might let him best you. I need you to swear it. Swear you will kill him.”

  She pulled him into her embrace, holding him steady to comfort him. She remembered in Okton Radon, when she was terrified of losing Kohl, entirely committed to ensuring he survived Falco and his raiders. It had never been out of a lack of love for Falco, but a lack of hatred for Kohl. Her lips found the warmth of his neck, damp with water. She kissed him softly. “I swear it.”

  CHAPTER 12

  “I will go with you,” he spoke firmly, the first of the group to say anything.

  Jessop shook her head at her Kuroi friend, “No, Trax. I need you here with Jeco.”

  He nodded slowly, concern growing in his eyes. They had reconvened and Jessop had told them of her intentions. She would take half of Dezane’s army to Aranthol; the rest would stay here and protect the Blade, along with Falco’s troops.

  “If Falco or Trax cannot travel with you, I volunteer to serve at your side,” Mar’e spoke. She had been absent earlier in the day but Dezane had updated her on the situation. Jessop nodded slowly to the woman. While they had seemed to find more common ground, Jessop was unsure if she needed her on this mission, for fear that her old friend might be more of a distraction than a necessary sword-hand. She couldn’t focus on saving Aranthol, fighting Kohl, and keeping Mar’e Makenen alive.

  Jessop tightened her grip on Falco’s hand. Jeco slept in his lap, his small face nuzzled into Falco’s chest. “Thank you for your offer. I will consider it.”

  “If you take my army, I will be at your side,” Dezane spoke. Everyone turned in their seats to regard the older man. His bright green eyes shone, contrasting with the dark shadow across his face. He wore the black tunic and leather of the Blade, but he kept his ochre robe on top of the clothes.

  Jessop immediately shook her head. “No, Dezane, you must stay here.” She kept her tone soft, though her order was clear. She had never commanded Dezane DeHawn, nor did she wish to, but she truly required his presence in the Blade.

  The Kuroi elder narrowed his eyes on her. “Why is that?”

  Jessop leaned forward in her seat. She needed him in the Blade for many reasons. Dezane was a strong, true elder. His mind would not be easily corrupted by Sentio and that made him invaluable at the Blade.

  “Your mind is not an easy one to enter. That makes you a rarity in these parts. Here is where you are most needed.”

  He readjusted in his seat. Jessop could feel Trax’s eyes on her. The Kuroi were a brave people and most skilled in battle. Going to fight was an honor, and yet, she knew Trax feared for his father’s life. She knew he would be grateful to have him stay beside him in the Blade.

  Dezane kept his green eyes locked on her. “Are you sure it is not simply because you fear the frailty of an old man fighting at your side?”

  Jessop rose, holding his stare. She made her way slowly around the table until she stood at his side. She placed a hand on his shoulder, “Harana vei kora met hasan, Mesahna.” She smiled down at the old man, thinking her sentiment to be most true; Fighting with you would be an honor.

  He clasped his hand over hers. “For me, as well, young one. But if you wish me to stay, I will not fight you on that.”

  She nodded. “It is what I wish.”

  They held one another’s stares for a long moment, until Urdo Rendo broke the silence. “Fine—you don’t want Trax or the elder, you’re not taking your husband’s army—I will go with you.”

  Jessop eyed the Hunter up—he was a formidable warrior, with a reputation that spanned across Daharia. Despite his age, he was skilled, and however gruff he may have been, Jessop liked his candor. Slowly, she nodded. “Okay.”

  Urdo nodded thoughtfully, pleased to see she didn’t protest his joining her campaign. “When do we leave then?”

  Jessop looked back down to Dezane. “When will your troops be ready?”

  Before he could answer, Mar’e spoke up, causing Jessop to turn. “I can have them ready in two days’ time. And I can be ready along with them.”

  Jessop looked from Mar’e to Falco and pushed her concerns across his mind. He softly shrugged his shoulders. She’s made it this far with her soldiers— let her carry on.

  Jessop turned and nodded to Mar’e. “If Dezane permits it, you may accompany.”

  Dezane sighed heavily. He seemed tired, weary of a war that had not yet happened. “I permit it.”

  Jessop looked about the room. In two days, she would lead an army of Kuroi to Aranthol, with a great Hunter and a former friend at her side. There were many others she would have chosen to go to battle with first, but as her green eyes fell to her son, she knew that she had chosen well. Jeco needed the most capable at his side for his protection.

  * * * *

  Urdo spent the following day drinking in
an Azguli tavern. “You never know when a drink might be your last,” he had told her as he made his way towards the docking bay. Mar’e spent it with the Kuroi warriors, making preparations for battle. Jessop spent it with Falco and Jeco. She stood beside Falco, leaning against the wall on the terrace where they had so recently executed their coup. She stood feet away from the place where she had nearly died. Though the grounds had been scrubbed clean since then, she felt as though she could make out the traces of her blood.

  Jeco toddled about the terrace, slaying imaginary beasts with his small sword. Every time he dropped the weapon, he used Sentio to bring it back to his grasp, and as his small fingers found their way around the tiny hilt, he would look to Falco and Jessop for approval, which they gave with ease. Their boy was truly remarkable.

  “Like his father.” Jessop smiled, wrapping her fingers around Falco’s hand.

  Falco was lost in his thoughts. His brow was woven with concerns, his jaw tight. She turned and snaked her arms around his waist, watching as he kept his gaze on Jeco. “Falco, what is it?”

  His gray eyes darted over her shoulder, following their son as he played. “I fear what is to come.”

  She almost laughed at his words. “You and I fear nothing. Nothing but Jeco’s fate, of course.”

  He shook his head, closing his eyes for a long moment. “That’s always been you, Jessop, not me. The fire destroyed your sense of dread or trepidation, and the confidence you have in your abilities reinforced that fearlessness. But I have always lived with fear. For Daharia, for you, for Jeco, for the warriors I lead.”