The Shadow City. Ryan Wieser
Jessop feel ill, but she refused to leave Falco’s side. She watched as Dezane rested his hands over the poultice, whispering chants for many hours.
Jessop didn’t know how long had passed, but she woke to Dezane softly nudging her shoulder. She had fallen asleep beside Falco. His face had remained heavily bandaged. She looked to Dezane, questions hanging on her lip. He raised his hand to stay her. “He will survive, and his vision will be fine, though he will always bear the scar.” She nodded, thankful. Jessop knew some part of Dezane was aware of the fact that she needed Falco. Another part knew that the Kuroi elder sensed Falco’s power, and believed he was destined to lead.
Falco’s face remained dressed for many days. He did not seem to despair over the cut, his vanity completely abandoned as he suffered an intangible pain. “They betrayed me.”
Jessop held his hand softly, tucked between her good one and her bandaged, broken one. She nodded at him as he spoke. They hadn’t left the tent in days. Food and water was brought to them. “Hydo hid behind them all…You should have seen the way Kohl looked at me. Like I was the insane one. He wouldn’t even listen to me.”
She had learned that Kohl, the boy Falco spoke of most, with the greatest vitriol, had been his best friend. That it was he who had cut Falco’s face. Falco had said Trax DeHawn, Dezane’s son, had helped him escape, but barely. He had fought many of his brothers, those who he had originally thought would take on Hydo with him. “I didn’t kill any of them. Even if they deserved it.”
She didn’t know what to say to him. She had never killed. She knew nothing of fighting. Despite their bond, they were still strangers to one another, who had led vastly different lives. “Come here,” he ordered, eyeing her over with his one uncovered gray eye. She inched closer to where he rested on his cured hides and pelts, ensuring his hand stayed locked in her own.
“Today is the Red Solstice.”
She nodded, already knowing what the day was. It was the first solstice without her parents. He brought her wounded hand closer to him, resting it against his chest. “It’s my day of Partus,” he added.
She cocked her head at him, stunned at the admission. “Mine as well.” He smiled softly, nodding, as though he knew that they must have shared a Partus—their day of birth. He closed his eye, covering her hand with his own, concentrating carefully. She felt the bones correcting, the skin repairing. As he opened his eye, he freed her hand. She pulled the bandages off and stretched her healed fingers out, amazed. He had healed her internal wounds the day of the fire—something incredible, but invisible to her eyes. Her hand, though, she could see. She could twist her wrist and clench her fist and see the amazing results of his abilities. She could see what beautiful things he was capable of.
“I am thankful for you, Jessop,” he smiled. The words one would speak to another on their day of Partus—an honor for one to be thankful for the other’s birth.
She took his hand back in hers; letting her freshly repaired fingers lock around his. “I am thankful for you as well, Falco.”
* * * *
Jessop rounded one of the many villager tents, careful as she maneuvered pails of water retrieved from the reservoir. Dezane had sent a warrior for her, requesting she speak with him. She had left Falco in the tent they had come to share. He moved with ease, having removed the bandages from his face. His scar was raised and puffy, pink and sore, but his vision, as Dezane had promised, was intact.
“Dorei Dorei, Dezane,” she spoke the formal greeting, remaining outside his tent until he responded.
“Come, Jessop Jero.”
She ducked through the large flaps and found Dezane sitting, cross-legged, in the center of his tent. His hands rested on his knees. He had moved his belongings, pushing his pelts and floor mats aside, and sat directly on the ground. She studied him, wondering what he might have been doing.
“Meditation, Jessop. I think on things for long periods of time. And then I think of nothing for even longer periods.” He offered her a warm smile along with his explanation, obviously noting her confused look.
She nodded. “You wished to see me?”
He extended one of his long, slender hands, indicating for her to sit opposite him. She acquiesced, mirroring his position.
He stared at her for a long moment before speaking. “Jessop, I want you to know you have a home here, with the Kuroi, for all your life.”
His words seemed abrupt, though they did not surprise her. There had been talk throughout the village, since the fire. Speculation as to whether the boy would take her to Azgul or if Dezane would have her stay with the tribe. “Thank you, Dezane.”
“I have spoken with the boy and I know he has great plans. Plans I intend to help see through. If he asks for you to go with him, the choice is yours to do so, but know you can stay if you wish.”
She didn’t know which plans he spoke of. She didn’t even know when Dezane and Falco had spoken, for she had been at Falco’s side since his return, but she trusted Dezane. She trusted him to always be honest with her. She tore away from his strong gaze, looking at the ground for a long moment before speaking again.
“I must ask you something.”
He remained silent, waiting.
She raised her eyes, forcing herself to look at him. “Am I different? My family…are we different?”
His smile remained intact. “Your mother disclosed many things to me, and many things she kept private. What I know is that you are special, Jessop. The rest you needn’t worry about.”
She could feel her heart speeding up, fearful that Mar’e had been telling the truth. “Special how?”
“That I do not know. Only you can know. Only you can sense what resides within you. Well, you and—”
“And Falco.” She finished his sentence.
Dezane nodded. “Yes, I believe Falco can sense it too.”
* * * *
Several days passed before Jessop spoke to Dezane again. Falco had initiated the meeting, insisting the three of them speak. “It is the only way for you to be safe, until such a time where you can overthrow Hydo,” Dezane added.
“It feels like you’re telling us to hide,” Jessop complained. She finally knew what Dezane and Falco had been discussing. They proposed the creation of an impenetrable city, a fortress for any who sought to be free from the Hunters. She had listened to Dezane speak for many hours. He assured her it could be done; the city would be fortified by magic from the Kuroi, from the desert, and from places in Daharia she had never heard of.
Falco looked her over slowly. A perfect silver scar traveled through his left brow, over his eyelid, down to the center of his cheek. Mar’e shied away at the sight of him now, but Jessop had found herself staring at him more frequently, more furtively.
“We will be hiding, Jessop, but Dezane is right. I will be pursued from this day forth by the Hunters. Word has already reached Okton Radon that I attempted some sort of coup. But we can do more than hide—we can train. I can train you.”
She thought of what he proposed. She had seen his Hunter’s Blade. He had shown her more of his abilities. He had shown her things she had never imagined. He had told her he could teach her how he fought, how to wield the weapon he carried—how to avenge her parents.
“You wouldn’t live alone forever. More would come,” Dezane explained.
She didn’t voice it, but she had thought that there were worse options than just being alone with him. He had turned away from her, clearly embarrassed to have heard her errant thought. Her cheeks pinked at the realization.
She looked between Falco and Dezane. All of their futures seemed set. She knew the dangerous path she chose when she chose to live her life with the boy. They needed one another, and all of Daharia would one day need him. “What