The Shadow City

by Ryan Wieser

  She watched as he brought Korend’a to his knees with Sentio, forcing his weapons from him. He ordered his mercenaries to bind him and gag him, to keep him locked away safe. She knew that Kohl had heard of the Kuroi man who had cared for Jessop for many years, he was right in believing it to be this Kuroi man. She could hear his thoughts, she could see how Kohl envisioned killing Korend’a before her as her city burned. She sensed his real plan, that she would kill him in order to save her Kuroi friend.

  Jessop left Kohl’s mind, reeling from the darkness of his thoughts, his blackened character. He truly had intended to die on her blade. He stared up at her indignantly as she ripped his tunic, revealing his scarred chest for all to see. As she had anticipated, atop his breast bone, was his newest scar. It was freshly pink and formed out of the letters of her son’s name. He had seen her scar and realized it was the key to Aranthol. He had carved the mark into himself with a sharp blade. Jessop pushed her fingers firmly into his pectoral, and holding his stare, she wrenched her nails through his flesh, tearing down across the scar—destroying the mark.

  He jerked away from her, but the damage was done. Four long nail marks crossed his chest, bleeding, hot and red. “You have no right to wear this mark.”

  As she turned from him, he yelled. “You’ve seen what I did—why won’t you end it? Just kill me.”

  His voice had broken, tears falling over his cheeks as she turned to face him. She said nothing, her cheeks burning as she felt the eyes of her soldiers on them both.

  “I tried to kill you. I burned your city to the ground. Just do it,” he pleaded with her.

  “No.”

  “Then don’t tell me you don’t love me—”

  “I don’t—”

  “Don’t say it. I can’t live with it, Jessop. I can’t live knowing it meant nothing to you.”

  She couldn’t slow her heart. She couldn’t deny, despite all he had done, that she wished to comfort him. Her home was gone. Her scar still fresh. Their mutual hatred was strong. Yet she couldn’t stand to see him suffer her.

  She pivoted on her heel, turning from him, leaving him in tears before her troops. Silently she pushed the thought into his mind—It did mean something to me.

  CHAPTER 16

  Jessop walked ahead, ignoring Kohl’s futile attempts to push thoughts at her. She shouldn’t have said anything to him. She could see the Soar-Craft in the distance, over one final sand ridge, and she told herself if she could just resist engaging with him again until they got there, everything would be alright. It had been many hours though, of him pushing and prodding at the periphery of her mind, and she grew weary.

  “Stop it,” she growled, barely loud enough for any to hear.

  “Then speak to me,” he answered, his voice just as muted, but keen in her focused ears.

  “No,” she hissed.

  “Jessop?” Mar’e stared at her with confusion, having appeared at her side from the rear.

  She shook her head, forcing herself to not think of Kohl’s niggling prods. “Nothing. What is it?”

  “I just wanted to check on you. Since we lost your city, you’ve been hostile.”

  Jessop shot an angry look at her. “I lost my home, Mar’e, I think anyone would be a little ‘hostile’ were they in my position.”

  Mar’e raised her hands defensively. “Just like that.”

  Jessop ran a hand over her brow. “I’m sorry.”

  Mar’e stared at her, her brow knitted. They walked in silence for a long minute before she spoke again. “I was thinking you could tell me more about Kohl?”

  “Why would you want to know more about Kohl?”

  She studied her friend, who stared back at her silently. Jessop stopped walking, forcing Mar’e to stop as well. She stared at her friend with a serious gaze. “Don’t fall for the pretty face, Mar’e, you will find another. He’s our captive…And he likely won’t survive another full moon.”

  Mar’e cocked her head, her long dark braids falling over her shoulder. “Falco’s going to kill him?”

  Jessop started walking again, Mar’e sticking at her side. “After all he has done…His odds of survival aren’t looking too promising.”

  Jessop ignored the look in her old friend’s face. It was the look of disappointment. She ignored it and hoped beyond hope that her own face didn’t appear the same every time she spoke of Kohl dying.

  * * * *

  Kohl sat opposite her on the Soar-Craft. He had chewed his gag into nothing more than a threadbare collar and slipped it down his jaw. Blood from his chest had stained his white tunic. Four claw marks stared at her throughout their journey. His hands remained bound and he had stared at her without blinking for what felt like an eternity.

  “Why won’t you speak to me?”

  She rolled her head back against her seat, sick of his persistence. “We have nothing to discuss.”

  “You know I know you. I knew you would come to the city, I knew you would kill the mage—”

  She glared at him, knowing where he was leading with this. “Yes, you knew I would come to save my city that you burned to the ground. You knew I would kill your mage, who trespassed my mind. These things don’t prove you know me, Kohl, they prove you know how to antagonize your enemy.”

  His brow furrowed at her words. “You’re not my enemy, Jessop.”

  She narrowed her eyes on him. “One minute you’re trying to kill me, the next you’re proclaiming your love. Which is it, Kohl?”

  He looked offended by her words. “I’ve done nothing to you that you haven’t done to me, Jessop Bane.”

  She cocked her head back at him. “Actually, I’ve never tried to kill you.”

  “Might as well have.”

  He stared at her in silence, she held his gaze with her own challenging stare. Finally, he leaned forward, closing the small space between them. “You know I remember seeing you for the first time as keenly as if it were this very morning.”

  She remained silent, refusing to be the first to turn away.

  “I’d never seen anyone move like you.”

  She knew the look she gave him reflected what they both thought. Falco.

  “Obviously, I know now you learned from him…I just, I wanted you to know, I loved you from the very start.”

  She finally tore her gaze away, unable to hold it any longer. “I know.”

  * * * *

  They landed the Soar-Craft late in the evening. It was the first time she had been happy to see the dusty red sky, knowing it meant she was that much closer to Falco and their son. Every minute she was away from Falco left her feeling more doubt and self-hatred. She was ashamed and felt as though her thoughts alone were a betrayal of him. She wanted to be able to hate Kohl, she wanted to hate him for herself, she wanted to hate him for Falco, for their Arantholi people—but she simply couldn’t. She told herself again and again that it was simply a matter of guilt, that she forgave him his trespasses for she had set him on his destructive path. It was the truth, to an extent. But there was also the other truth. That when she was alone with her thoughts she remembered training with him, laughing with him, watching him as he slept. She remembered fearing for his life and regretting any harm she would bring to him. She cared, more than she should have.

  As they disembarked, she found Falco standing on the platform, surrounded by white-clothed techs waiting to help unload the vessels. She leapt from the Soar-Craft, quick to leave Kohl behind.

  She jogged over to Falco, who held a sleeping Jeco in his arms. She immediately kissed them both, lacing her arms around Falco, nuzzling their son between them. She looked up into his welcoming gray eyes. He had a cut above his brow, surrounded by a faint bruise.

  “I’m fine,” he insisted, offering her a half smile. She reached up and touched the bruise with her cool fingers, almost recoiling at the natural heat of
his skin. She was always so much colder than him. He brushed his face into her palm, welcoming her cool touch. She kissed him once more.

  “These days apart have been too long,” she whispered to him.

  He used his free hand to pull her closer. “I feel the same, my love.”

  She wanted to return to their chambers, to be alone with him and Jeco. She didn’t wish to speak to any on the Council. She didn’t wish to discuss her failure or hear the details of Hanson’s attack on the Red City.

  “We can retire soon, my love, we have but one thing to attend to,” Falco spoke, hearing her thoughts.

  She followed his gaze over her shoulder, turning to see where his gray eyes focused. Kohl stared at her with intensity, his golden eyes trailing over Jeco before fixing on her. He looked at her as though he had never seen her before. Instinctively, she took Jeco from Falco’s arms. She knew what Falco intended. “I’ll take Jeco to bed.”

  Falco didn’t take long to join her in their chambers. She had put Jeco to sleep and bathed herself. He returned as she dried her body, seated on the edge of the bed. He quietly made his way to their bathing chamber. He said nothing, and in turn, she ignored the fresh blood on his knuckles. She had known he would hurt Kohl, but it wasn’t Kohl she feared for. She feared what Falco might have seen in Kohl’s mind, or what his old friend may have told him out of spite.

  * * * *

  She walked back into the bathing chamber, leaning against the wall as he cleaned himself. “Did he say anything?”

  Falco turned under the stream of water to face her. “Many things, and at the same time, nothing.”

  She watched him step out of the water, remaining silent. She handed him fresh linens to dry with. He dabbed his face and wrapped the material around his body.

  “He loves you still.”

  Her heart quickened. Any love she had for Kohl paled in comparison to what she felt for Falco. “All that matters is that I love you.”

  He was silent for a long moment before speaking. As though he contemplated her sentiment. “And I you.”

  She ran her finger down his chest, through the valley of his high muscular walls. “Falco—” she began, but he kissed her abruptly.

  He leaned his forehead against hers. “I can’t talk about it—him and you— not now, Jessop.”

  He pulled away from her, turning to their bedroom. Jessop felt her heart twist, as though seized by a firm grip. She loved him more than life itself and no matter what he said, no matter that the plan had been his plan, he was wounded. “Falco, there is no him and I.”

  He hesitated, but he did not look back.

  She walked around him, standing before him and forcing him to face her. “Falco, we can’t keep doing this. I’m in love with you.”

  “We have other things to discuss now. The battles—”

  She stepped back from him, angry. “I don’t care about the battles, Falco. None of it matters if it costs our relationship.”

  “I would never leave you.”

  “But would you look at me the same? Knowing what you know about—”

  “About Kohl and you? Knowing you love him.”

  The words were a knife. She felt her hands unclench, never having realized she made fists. She saw the look in his gray eyes—the hurt.

  “It is not what you think. I told you I cared for him.”

  “Like you care for me?”

  “Not at all.”

  He crossed his arms over his bare chest. “He betrayed me. He tried to kill you. He burned our home to the ground. Does he need to kill me for you to change how you feel for him?”

  “Don’t speak like that.”

  “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

  “No! It’s not the truth.” She felt the tears as they streaked her face.

  “Why am I not enough for you to forget him?”

  “You are! You loved him once too. I cared for him, and I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had never met him. But I did—I did it for you. I was never in love with him, I’m not now. But I cared for him and I wronged him and now I’ve lost him, as I feel I am losing you.”

  He grabbed her in his arms, tears streaming down his face. “It’s I who fears losing you. You can’t love him. I’ll kill him. I will.”

  She pulled him tight into her embrace, his strong body heaving with sorrow. She said nothing to him. Perhaps Urdo was right. Perhaps if Kohl died, it would be for the best.

  * * * *

  Jessop hesitated in the mossy, dim-lit corridor. Falco had locked Kohl away in the Hollow. She did not know what version of him she would find, or what version of herself seeing him would bring forward. She didn’t know what damage Falco might have inflicted, though she knew him well enough to know it could be devastating. She had never seen him as distraught as she had the night before. It pained her to think of it. She took a slow breath and carried forward, finding herself standing at the lip of the fighting arena.

  Her eyes landed on him instantly. His arms were shackled to the stone wall. The manacles must have been placed in her absence. His white tunic was torn. His chest still bore her scratch marks. His head hung low, his blond hair damp and clinging to him. She saw, stained in the dirt at his feet, dark blood. She leapt from the edge, landing on bended knee several feet away from him.

  He didn’t move.

  She slowly approached him, and though she expected him to look up at her or shift in his chains, he did not stir. She took a small step forward, knowing if she reached out just slightly, she could touch his golden crown of hair. For the briefest of moments, she wondered if he had died, but a slow rise of his back muscles let her know he breathed still.

  Had Falco perhaps wounded him too greatly? Had heat and dehydration slowed his senses? She crossed her arms over her chest, resisting her urge to reach for him. She could never reconcile the feelings she had for him—the impulse to set him free coupled with the dark desire to wound him further. She wondered if she would feel the weight of such conflict for the rest of her life, another scar.

  “I wondered when you would come,” he whispered. His voice, cracked and dry, startled her.

  She said nothing, watching as he slowly raised his head to face her. His golden tresses clung to the sweat and blood on his face, tangled over his eyes and scar. Falco had left him bruised and beaten, though it was nothing Kohl hadn’t endured before, she knew. “I came to see if he had killed you.”

  He smiled at her with a bloodied grin. “Your concern warms my heart.”

  She shook her head at him. “You’ve brought this on yourself. Falco offered you a place at his side.”

  “Tell me, Jessop,” he began, attempting to flick his hair out of his eyes as he spoke. “Do you truly live with a diminished sense of responsibility, or do I haunt your nightmares, as you do mine?”

  She could resist no longer, reaching out and brushing his sticky hair out of his face. She let her hand fall from him, ignoring the peaceful expression her touch painted across his face. “I live with my guilt daily,” she answered. She wondered what his nightmares entailed, she wondered if they mirrored her own.

  “Tell me of your nightmares,” she ordered, trying to soften her tone.

  He held her in his gaze warmly. “In some, we live peacefully. In others…I kill you.”

  His words nipped her. She couldn’t feel angered by them. Not when she lived with her own nightmares.

  He locked his golden eyes on her. “Some part of me truly wished you had died that day.”

  She nodded, knowing what he meant. “Some part of me truly wishes you were dead right now.”

  He shrugged his tired shoulders. “If you wish me dead, kill me.”

  She shook her head slowly. “I don’t really believe you deserve to die.”

  He arched his brow at her. Long gone was the hopeful tone in his voice. He did not push a
t her, did not ask her to admit her love. He seemed somewhat broken. “Then you must not think I deserve peace.”

  Before she could answer, she felt him. She knew Falco’s gray eyes were set on her. She could feel his presence as keenly as if his hand touched her. She slowly turned, tilting her head up to see him standing on one of the steel beams.

  “My love,” she addressed him. He had a stern expression and narrowed eyes. Jessop wondered if he had watched her with Kohl for longer than she had sensed. He leapt down to the Hollow ground and approached them slowly.

  He ran a hand up her back as he stood beside her, his eyes stuck on Kohl. “You may have realized my wife is somewhat more forgiving than I, old friend.”

  Kohl shook his head slowly, a skeptical look playing on his face. “I’m not sure about that, Falco. She’s done more damage to me than you ever did.”

  A tight smile pulled on Falco’s face. “Give me time, brother.”

  Kohl forced a smile back. “If you plan on torturing me more just have at it. I’m sick of waiting.”

  “It’s not quite time for you and me, yet, but soon it will be.”

  Jessop turned at Falco’s words, unsure what he implied, but he did not look to her, keeping his gaze on Kohl. “Last chance to tell me where Hydo is.”

  “I told you already. I don’t know.”

  Falco grabbed Kohl’s hair, wrenching his head back. “You lie. It matters not. You can’t hide anything from Jessop.”

  Jessop bristled at his words. He would have her search Kohl’s mind for the truth. As Korend’a had suggested from the start. She looked at Falco with a critical eye. He was just as capable of searching Kohl’s mind. She knew he tasked her with it out of anger. But she would do it. If Falco needed her to, then she would.