by Ryan Wieser
His heart quickened at her words, resisting the truth she was offering him.
“You killed the fathers.”
“I did what was best for my children.”
“Octayn…”
He leaned forward, rubbing his head, feeling as though he might wretch. He knew that he was not a royal or a parent and that he, too, had killed before. But she was admitting to murder, and she had committed such a heinous crime against a Daharian. To become the Hunter he was, his mentor had beaten him within an inch of his life. He had trained every day for years. He had trained keep Bakora out of these lands.
He had seen how dangerous she was but had somehow had never viewed her as a threat. In choosing to love her, he was putting all those around him at risk. Treason in theory and in practice were, all of the sudden, very different. “There is much I can live with, including your true identity, your children, and your plans. But if we are to be together, you must swear to not kill any more Daharians.”
She touched his hand warmly. “I understand that even though you are of my people, Daharians are also your kind. I know that hurting them hurts you.”
He could feel his anger dissipating and was certain it was her touch.
“I will be the Lord Protector—any children of ours will be the rightful leaders of both Daharia and Bakoran. But as I will one day swear to protect the Bakora, you too will have to protect Daharians.”
She held his gaze intently before nodding. “I see no reason to have to kill any more of them.”
He knew she chose her words carefully. She was raised to rule and her diplomatic nature and imperious ways had become more and more visible each day. She wouldn’t make promises she believed she wouldn’t keep. But he knew better than to push the matter further.
“I just can’t believe you have two children.”
She smiled. “Yes. As I said, the boy showed great promise early on.”
Hydo found himself smiling. A boy. A fatherless boy. He suddenly felt himself filling a very different role, one he knew he could fill well. “And the second child?”
Octayn’s smile softened and her eyes fell to the bed. “The second child was very recent, such a short time before we met. It’s difficult for me to speak about.”
“We will return your children to Bakoran. They will be with you.”
She blinked away a tear. “I know how I must seem. No one could understand abandoning their children ...but I do it for their safety.”
“I know.”
“The boy, he is so gregarious, strong and bold ...I know who he is and I can sense his future. But the second child…”
Hydo waited patiently. She dabbed her eyes with their bed sheet. “This beautiful girl, who made no noise at birth. She was not unwell, but she did not cry. She simply looked at me, in silence, with bright green eyes.”
Chapter 7
Hara’agul
Present Day
Kohl remained kneeling, his tears streaking his cheeks in the darkness. Falco mirrored his position. Jessop stood between the two. She stared down at Kohl, then looked to Falco, who looked, in silence, at his brother. “We will not wait here for them, Kohl.”
Kohl kept his gaze fixed on Falco. “What do you mean? Jessop, Mar’e is dying and Falco could save her if they reach us in time.”
Jessop shook her head. “I’m sorry. Falco and I carry on for Jeco.”
Suddenly, Falco was pulling Kohl into a tight embrace. They held one another tightly, and for the first time, Jessop felt like the one on the outside. The two men who loved her most also loved one another. After years of rivalry, years of hatred and mutual plotting, their brotherhood ran deeper than any rift she created.
She turned from them. “We must go now.”
Slowly, the men rose. Kohl wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Could you please consider waiting?”
Falco stepped away from Kohl, joining Jessop. “I won’t wait, brother.”
“But—”
“My son is missing because of her, Kohl. She was too weak for this war!”
Jessop’s angry yell echoed about them before disappearing on the sands. She had so recently tried to kill Mar’e it felt odd to be discussing the fate of her life once again. She blamed Mar’e for Jeco’s abduction, and though she knew that blame was somewhat misplaced, had Mar’e never been in the Blade, the abduction might have never occurred.
He shook his head at her. “Have you no heart?”
“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”
* * * *
They walked through the dessert in the darkness, the light from the stars barely touching the soft sand underfoot. Falco walked close beside Kohl to help guide his path. She crossed her arms and leaned back as she began to slide slowly down the steep wall of a dune, her boots skimming over the fine sand. She had loved Mar’e once ...Or at least she had thought she had.
Perhaps it had always been hatred—a child’s longing for acceptance and friendship was a blinding force. Perhaps what had once seemed like love had really been something quite different. Maybe all of the years of shunning and rejection had ensured that Jessop would one day be the one to try to kill Mar’e Makenen—or at least be the one responsible for her death. In childhood, Mar’e had always been blinded by her own self-regard. Jessop should have known these were qualities she would have carried into adulthood, qualities she would have brought into the Blade.
“She deserves our help.”
“Not now, Kohl,” Jessop barked, her hands curling into fists. She could not stand to hear him ruminate over the state of their lives, their wrongdoings and losses, any further. It was tedious to think about, let alone voice.
“Why not now, why can’t we at least—”
“We know, Kohl. You lost everything, I ruined your life, nothing is fair. She’s going to die—and even though I am the one who knew her best, it’s you crying through the night.”
Jessop had rounded in the darkness, her feet expert on the sand, her eyes keen in the shadows. She did not struggle as he did and she stood inches away from him. Falco, just as adept, had his hand on her arm, warning her against doing anything she would later regret.
She saw the reproach in Kohl’s eyes as he took an angry step towards her. He moved with such force that Falco landed his hand heavy on Kohl’s chest, forcing him back from Jessop. Thought Falco held him back, Kohl had a finger in her face, pointing at her with anger.
“Yes—you knew her best but you did not care for her most. And not everything is about you, Jessop. We all suffer! We have all been wounded. We three here have harmed one another greatly—but are we allowed to suffer aloud? Are we permitted to say anything that might anger you? You do not control me. Everything I do for you, I do out of love, not allegiance. You should act like my friend—not my Lord Protector, because in case you forgot—that’s Falco.”
Jessop remained still, stunned, and silent. Perhaps she had been acting like Falco wasn’t the Lord Protector. She was accustomed to his leadership, and to her being the natural exception to his rule. As he claimed a new frontier, the one they had most coveted, she should have shown more support. But Jeco ...She could not pander to custom when her son was missing. She could not mourn the potential loss of Mar’e, nor any other, when Jeco was in danger.
“I allow you to do things because I am the most powerful.”
Jessop hadn’t intended to say the words aloud and felt a heat rising in her neck as she heard them escape her mouth. She wasn’t that person, or at least she did not want to be. She was powerful, perhaps the most powerful, but she was not a tyrant. She had controlled Kohl for so long, through strength and manipulation, she now realized she had never really stopped.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, not anymore, but I still do. I act like I can control you because if I wanted to, I could.”
She
felt shame. She felt more than shame—she had acted towards him as Hanson or Hydo once would have. “I don’t know what to say.”
He inched closer to her as Falco slowly lowered his hand. “You don’t allow me to do anything. When I do as you ask, it’s out of love, not fear.”
His words wrapped around her and her skin shivered. She saw the small flames licking over her fingertips, illuminating the three of them in the darkness.
She forced her gaze up, first to Falco, then to Kohl. “Since we battled in Aranthol, things have been complicated.”
“They’ve been complicated much longer than that.”
“Yes, they have.” She could feel Falco’s tense stare but she couldn’t focus on him. She couldn’t carry on this way, acting as she did towards Kohl. “I know I’m not your Lord Protector. You’re a skilled Hunter and I’d always choose to have you fight at my side rather than against me.”
“I’d never raise a blade to you again, Jessop. I can’t live with what I did to you.”
“It was I who first betrayed you—”
“Jessop!”
She noticed the sound of her skin being punctured before she actually felt anything. Her flames flickered as she looked down and saw the metal shaft of an arrow protruding from her chest. She fell forward, Falco quick to scoop her up. She heard Kohl’s sword sing, as it was unsheathed. Falco shimmied down the sloping wall of the dune, holding her tight against him. She heard the whistling of another arrow and the ting of metal as Kohl struck it out of the sky—she was amazed at how long she had overlooked his abilities.
She felt wet; the blood was soaking through her clothes. “Falco.”
He lowered her gently to the ground, keeping her close to him as he knelt down. “You’re fine, my love.”
She closed her eyes. She could hear sand kicking up. Another clash of metal and an arrow slid to a stop in the sand beside her. “They’re coming.”
“Kohl’s got it covered.”
Falco had an obvious confidence in Kohl that she had never had. “Are you sure?”
At her words, a wild scream encircled them. Kohl had killed one of the attackers.
Falco nodded, his hand wrapping around the arrow. “Of course I’m sure.”
She knew he needed to remove the arrow if he was going to heal her. She felt swelling throughout her body and her mouth tasted acidic. He needed to be quick. “Do it now.”
She tried to ignore the feet in the sand, the running, the sound of Kohl swinging his Hunter’s blade. She could sense him and she knew that he felt no fear. Despite the darkness, despite the pressure of having to fight alone and defend them all, he felt nothing. He was confident. She had fought so hard to keep him safe. She had torn his memories and made pacts with Trax, she had worried so greatly about Kohl leaving Azgul to fight ...It had been misplaced. She hadn’t known him well enough.
“He’s a Hunter, Jessop. He’s trained all his life for this,” Falco reminded her.
His words reminded her of a conversation she had once had with Kohl. He had looked at her with such seriousness. “Jessop,” he had said, “You act like I’m some childhood friend who spent the past twenty years as a tailor or rug maker. I was raised in the Blade. I have been fighting all my life ...I’m not fragile.”
As she thought on the memory of Kohl, Falco slipped into her mind, numbing her as best he could. There was an immense pressure in her chest, right beneath her collarbone. She felt her flesh begin to rejoin, the sinewy muscles, torn by the arrow, grasping to one another, the flesh weaving into a new scar.
“You need to forgive him, Jessop.”
She hissed as the scar came together tightly. “For Aranthol or for trying to kill me?”
“For loving you still.”
She heard the clashing of swords, the scuffling of boots, the sound of flesh slicing as Kohl defended them. She winced under Falco’s touch.
“Do you forgive him?”
“I sentenced him to death days ago, and I’ve threatened it for years. And yet, despite every opportunity, I do not kill him and he does not fear me. We are brothers.”
She felt as though she were seeing Falco differently after so many years. He had spoken of the brotherhood with vitriol, he had cursed them for turning their backs on him, for making him into their enemy when he was destined to be their leader. He had told her again and again how they lived by a hierarchy, how the Blade came first, nothing was ever more important than your brother or your Lord Protector.
“All these years, it hasn’t been hate, but love, hasn’t it? The hurt endured because you loved him.”
He moved her into a resting position against the dune wall and kissed her softly before standing and unsheathing his onyx blade. “Perhaps my hurt endured because I loved him then and I love him still. And perhaps your hurt endures for the same reasons.”
He said nothing more, staring into her eyes, as if waiting for her to speak first. When she said nothing, he disappeared from the sandy enclave.
Jessop pushed herself up further, sitting upright. She knew from Falco’s words, and from Kohl’s, that things would never change for the three of them. They would never be able to live together in the Blade. They loved her. And it would have been easier if she loved neither, but that wasn’t the case. She loved Falco, and yet, Kohl could not let her go, as she could not seem to let him go.
She didn’t understand what had become of her life. They had spent so many years planning their revenge against Hydo that their lives had been about nothing but their agenda. Then they’d had Jeco, and their planning was reinvigorated, for their son was another reason Hydo had to be removed from the Blade. And having achieved everything they set out to, they had lost what mattered most. Jeco was gone.
She needed to get to her son. She got to her feet, shaking off the injury, embracing the new scar and sense of determination she felt. She made her way around the dune wall, her ankles rolling in the soft sand. She took a deep breath, regaining her footing. Kohl and Falco fought their attackers, their fighting styles so distinct from one another. Falco never took one heavy breath, never huffed or gasped. He fought with alarming ease. Kohl had begun to fight with more flair than he ever had in the Hollow, but his form was still rooted in tradition.
The attackers were desert brigands, but of what tribe or heritage, she did not know. She tried to focus on one, but they moved quickly. From underneath a black tunic she saw skin that appeared to glisten, as though perhaps not skin at all, but scales. Their eyes glowed, but not as those of the Kuroi did, with a soft lighting, but as though they were creatures of the night. And they fought with exceptionally long blades, though strapped to their backs were quivers filled with the metal arrows they had used to initiate their attack. She watched as one charged Falco and was stunned by the screeching cry the assailant let out—a wild war call that sounded more beast than man. Jessop threw her hands out before her, and with all her focus, she ignited a fire around the attacker. Falco then cut him down with ease.
She counted six more, following their quick running forms around in the dark. She unsheathed her sword, and her shoulder seared with pain. She heard the arrow, and shot her sword through the air just in time to stop it. She was weak—more injured than she had originally thought, more injured that she had been in quite some time.
“Falco,” his name barely passed over her lips, but he heard her. He flicked his gaze to her, his sword clashing with another’s. He moved their fight nearer her, and as he struck down his opponent, he leapt to her side.
“We’ve got this,” he answered, and she lowered her blade, resting her injured body. Kohl and Falco circled her continuously, keeping the attackers at bay, and one by one they brought them down. Jessop knelt, her blade in her hand just in case, resting. She needed sleep, though she had been so certain of the contrary when they had made camp. She needed water. She needed her son.
As Falco struck down the last one, she took a deep breath, urging herself to rise up and carry on. They did not have time for rest—they did not have time for recovery. She watched as Kohl leaned over one of the fallen brigands. They were men, but they were also something more. With the scales and eyes of desert creatures, it was as though they had further adapted to their terrain than Jessop and Falco had to the perpetual night of their own. As Kohl pivoted around to face her, Jessop saw the attacker move. With scaly fingers wrapped around his hilt, he lunged at Kohl’s back.
Jessop threw her hand out and a spear of fire extended from her palm. Kohl leapt to the ground, rolling out of the path of the flames. The brigand burned before Falco threw a dagger, ending what would have been a much longer death.
Jessop fell forward, her hands burying in the fine sand as she tried to catch herself. She could hear her heart beating, the blood pulsating through her body. Her chest tensed, willing her to breathe deeply, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t focus.
Mama!
She knew it was in her mind. He wasn’t there. They weren’t at the caves yet.
Mama!
She cupped her hands over her ears, drowning out the sound of his beautiful, little voice, as she buckled forward. “Stop it. Stop it!”
She felt Falco’s arms around her, she felt him inching into her mind. “We will get him back. I promise.”
She nodded, focusing on Falco’s presence in her mind, focusing on his breathing. She knew that she was losing her mind. All that mattered was getting their son back.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, although she did not know who she spoke to. And as her vision began to blur, she passed out.
Chapter 8
Azgul
Twenty-five years ago
Hydo navigated the familiar backstreets with ease. He had left the Blade that night with Hanson and Urdo, sneaking off to their favorite Azguli tavern. It had been time to repair some of the damage he and Octayn had created. She had agreed, encouraging him to reaffirm his relationship with Urdo and Hanson. He knew she had ulterior motives in her support—she worried for their secret and his path to becoming Lord Protector. Hydo understood that Octayn had no friends, she had no siblings, and the bond he shared with his brethren was not one she would ever be able to comprehend.
