The Immortal City

by May Peterson

  A headache was pooling behind my eyes. So the many new faces, new warm bodies, every season or so in Serenity. They weren’t all travelers, like I’d assumed. Umber and Kadzuhikhan had been ferrying them here. Was it possible for me to have been more of a fool? It’d been so easy to believe they really were all pilgrims or hirelings, when of course anyone with the influence Umber had would find it easy to take advantage of the poor and defenseless.

  “He liked the older children, when possible. Stronger. Better suited to whatever task he wanted us for, and besides, we’d already been toughened by life in the orphanage. Two and half years ago, you and I were still trying to stay together. Personally, I hoped we might be too old for him. Too strong-willed.” Hei’s laugh ran bitter and dark. “You’d think I’d have learned to stop hoping so much by then. Turns out, the two young men who helped the sisters with the children were perfect for his new crop of followers.”

  I opened my eyes. I wanted every line, every impression of Hei’s softness, his anger, fear, and pain. It was time to see. To see him, the person I’d left behind.

  “You and I tried to escape the city. One of the sisters gave me money, misled Kadzuhikhan when he came to collect us. We might have escaped—but the crow-soul spies and Kadzuhikhan’s cat-step made it too easy to catch us. We struggled, but...” He shook his head. “Somehow I survived. You were lying under me, bloody. You weren’t moving. It was like something had drained all the heat out of you. It seemed impossible—”

  “Hei.” I clasped his hand, tried to pull him from his memories. “Stop. You don’t have to do this.”

  “But then you started moving.” Tears gave his eyes the illusion of gem-light. “It was like a miracle. You were coming back. Wings, claws... I prayed they’d just assume we were both dead, and you and I could get away. But there wasn’t enough time, enough distance. The news that one of the escapees was quickening, becoming a new moon-soul...it must have drawn Umber like honey.”

  And so he’d brought me here. Kaiwan had said Serenity served many purposes; this must be one of them. As Umber’s personal nest, filling up with the baubles he found. He’d brought me here, drunk deep of my soul, and gained yet another shadow of a life that he could write over. Mold into a creature of his will.

  “I still don’t know for sure how I escaped.” Hei opened his jacket, slipped it from his shoulders. “But I was helped by a great lord of bear-souls in Vermagna. He shielded me from the flock, and gave me this.”

  He began unwinding the remaining bandages from his chest. I hadn’t realized before how thickly he’d spooled it, but as it came undone, a familiar shape showed at Hei’s side. I frowned—against bare skin glowed the stone he’d worn earlier. It hummed now with a delicate opalescence, as if something had been awakened in it. A fine mesh of threads held it flush to the side of his abdomen, a few of those threads joined with his skin.

  “I stitched it there so it’d stay more secure.” Hei fondled the stone. The threads really had pierced him, but the openings seemed fully healed now, as if he’d had medicinal stitches. “The lord of bears hallowed it with his virtue so it would be potent against moon-souls. I need only immerse it in water for minutes, and the water becomes hallowed.”

  Comprehension blossomed in me. So that was how he’d been able to create such weapons. Drinking hallowed water made his blood poisonous to any moon-soul that supped on him, and a simple basin would allow him to turn ordinary cloth into a substance fiercer than steel. I had a vision of Hei, training and preparing to storm Serenity alone. Apparently, his first attempt had not brought him nearly as close to me as this time. At least, not close enough that I’d come with him to see Kaiwan.

  I had no idea what had changed in the new version of this life she’d given us. But she saw me as Hei’s last uncounted chance. A way to make this path veer straight, bring us both into the clear.

  Which brought one last question to mind. “Were you going to ask Kaiwan to...undo this timeline? Make it so I’d never died?”

  Hei looked almost hurt for a moment, as if he’d been afraid I’d ask that. Or maybe he’d considered it himself. “I didn’t want to wish away what I’d learned in coming here. Especially since it might happen all over again. I was only going to ask her to restore your memories. Completely. Umber uses amnesia to keep his victims emotionally controlled. Limited. I want to free you from that. And I thought...”

  He didn’t need to say it. That it might be the only way, short of wiping time clean, to bring me to his side.

  Hei had been so happy the day I’d caught him on Ancestor Rock. And again when I defended him from Kadzuhikhan. When we’d first had sex. As if he’d never expected any of this, had been ready for me to reject and abandon him.

  Because he’d had to be. He’d had no way of knowing who my time in Serenity had made me. If I would be friend or foe. Everything had been the flip of a coin. I had the chill impression of it all hinging on that one moment, the hour I’d seen him on the rocks and decided to humor him. Decided I didn’t want to see him fall.

  I may not have done that. He’d sought me out anyway, stepped right into my afterlife. Declaring “I think I like you already.”

  He’d been reaching for the corpse of who I’d been, hoping for a sign of life.

  I pressed him to my chest. This time, my own tears filled my senses, my sobs of gratitude, pain, need, and loss impossible to restrain. He had stricken me with terror, and that fear was not gone. It only widened the deeper I fell into it, became wonder, rawness, yearning.

  And grief. Because I was still not the Ari who had died. Even now, I didn’t remember Hei as the boy I’d spent my fragile youth with. The boy who’d tried to escape with me. I remembered him only as the mysterious smiling presence who was still while Serenity whirled like a tornado. As the wingless angel who’d fallen from above, singing catch me.

  I loved him. Both faces, the tender warrior I held in my arms, and the forlorn young man death had taken me from. I loved him, and he would never quite get me back.

  I was the only Ari left.

  “I don’t remember you,” I breathed, my voice trembling. I shouldn’t say this. But I had to. “I may never remember you. But I don’t care. I’m with you now. I won’t leave you again.”

  We held each other, the combined strength and delicacy of his arms a perfect ring around me. Blessing me with his gentleness, the fury and urgency of his need for me. His mourning and passion for the person I would never be again.

  * * *

  We lay by my bed for a time, Hei breathing softly into the cusp of my neck. We communicated only in careful touches, kisses on each other’s face and temples, whimpered emotions.

  But Kaiwan had been right—the time was drawing near. And we had to be ready.

  “I can help you wash.” I caressed the exposed side of his torso. God, he was so beautiful. “You’ll feel better.”

  He glanced at me carefully, almost shyly. “I... All right. But we should hide somewhere. We can’t stay here.”

  I shrugged, helping him into a sitting position and divesting him of the rest of his bandages. “We should have a little time, but I know where we can hide for a while. Umber may not know exactly what happened yet. I doubt he entertained the possibility that you could handle Kadzuhikhan. If anything, that was probably the purpose of all this. And having me wait outside.”

  Hei’s eyes flashed, mouth creasing. “You think I was supposed to be bait for you somehow?”

  I nearly couldn’t answer. That must have been it. It was such an obvious taunt, commanding me not to interfere, but daring me to be a part of it. And I hadn’t told him yet that Kaiwan had seen the world in which he’d died.

  It very well may have been the world in which I hadn’t made the decision to join him in battle.

  “Something like that,” I growled. Then I guided him to the basin at the side of my room, smoothed gentle hands o
ver his shoulders, as if mapping the fatigue in his muscles. He acquiesced with a sigh, leaning into my touch. In moments, I had him bare down to his underpants. He didn’t flinch away from my fingertips, the tundra-cold feel of my palms. The tension in him eased as I ran a damp cloth over his skin, watching the gleam concentrate on his belly, the lines of his back and arms. Red and black peeled away from the tender brown, the soft surfaces slowly becoming clean.

  But he trembled, whether from the chill, weariness, or the simple magnitude of where we were now. What he had done for me. And the fact that I had left him. I need you. I imagined the pain of seeing me fly away, leave him to his ruin, leave him with another corpse.

  I casually tilted him into me, kissed the crown of his head. He released a heavy breath, and the tremors in him began to slow.

  “What was the reason Umber gave you for the meeting?” I spoke into his hair. “You sounded like he’d spoken with you before.”

  The question felt treacherous on my tongue. Part of me still expected Hei to turn slightly, reveal yet another self, yet another mountain of possibilities and secrets. But Kaiwan’s account seemed like a harsher proof than any I could have asked of him. My fear came from the uncertainty of my steps, not from any threat of Hei’s.

  His gaze lifted to mine was almost sleepy. “Yes. We had communicated by messenger before I found you. Before I decided whether I was going to try to find you right away. He knows about Kaiwan. Once I made clear that I was aware of her, he seemed interested in some kind of...deal, perhaps. I wanted revenge, but couldn’t take it as long as he held you. And he wouldn’t agree to let me enter Serenity unmolested if I didn’t at least parley with him. The idea was that I was supposed to wait for another messenger from him.” His eyes narrowed. “A messenger who ended up being you.”

  I swallowed thickly. Of course that was what it was. “Any idea what his game is?”

  Hei appeared momentarily off guard, once again too frail and mortal in the dim fire-glow. “I expect basically the same as it always was. He wants people under his thumb. He wants every situation in his afterlife to be one more exhibition of his power, of him having the upper hand. He panics if it’s ever anything else. I have no doubt that this was all calculated to confuse and frustrate, rather than because he really cares about deals and bargains. But if he understands why I met with Kaiwan...most likely he will anticipate us going there next.”

  I chewed my lip, briefly aware of how it mirrored him. I had to tell him now. “Hei. Listen to me. I spoke with Kaiwan.”

  I told him everything. All but the outcome of the time she had undone, Hei’s death. I told him that she had turned back time already. That she had grown weak with despair, and that she didn’t trust the dice this time.

  His mouth hung open as I finished, eyes full of ashes. “I don’t understand. If she wanted to intervene, why say something now? It’s too late. I’m already here. There’s nothing else to be done.”

  “Yes. There is.” I tugged a blanket over his shoulders. Through each point of contact between us, I released a flow of virtue, caressing away the strain on his muscles. “We can just go. There are places Umber won’t bother following. He wants to win, but two stray conquests aren’t that important to him. We can fly away.”

  Something gathered on his brow, knotting the space between his eyes. “Do you...not want your memories back?”

  I heard the question for what it was. Did I want the old me back—did I want to love him again like I once did?

  I stroked his temple. “I do. It’s what I’ve always wanted, more than anything. But it’s a gamble. It’s not worth the risk, if we can have now. I still don’t remember who I was, what we had. But I’m here. You’re here.”

  Hei’s head was shaking. “I believe. My heart will endure. I’ve worked too hard to find you. I know we can—”

  “You died.” It shot out without my volition, as if I had no more room inside for it. “That was why Kaiwan undid time in the first place. Umber killed you. She only had one go left to make it right. You never made it to her in the previous attempt. You were murdered before you had the chance.”

  It sunk in visibly, draining the fury from his face. But I kept going.

  “I understand. You had every right to want this. To get me back.” The real me. The me that should have known him across time, across the eons of winter, known him by the scars where he and I had been knitted together. “But consider it from my point of view. I’ve been just...falling, here, for a long time. Since I died, apparently. And suddenly I have a place to land. A path that goes somewhere.”

  His eyes were misting over again. He had to have considered it, what it was like for me, just as I had for him. And he’d had much more time with the thought.

  “To me, you’re still someone I only met a few days ago. And yet it took me until then to see how empty this place is for me, for all the bodies that fill the streets. I have basically no one. Kadzuhikhan was the only person that seemed to even care who I was, if you don’t count Umber. Hell, anyone else that would so much as remember my name would get the memory sucked out later. So watching you cut his head off, even though he was terrible, violent...it was like swallowing the fact that the life I’ve had here has almost nothing in it. It may as well have been a grave. And I just...didn’t know what to do.” I gulped, hard, fighting to keep my breathing steady. “So out of nowhere, this person who knew me—who wants me—is all around me. To me, you mean everything I left behind. Even if I never get that back, you’re here with me now. You walked across the tundra to pull me out of my grave. So I have two choices. Bet it all to get even more back—or take what I have, and walk away from the table.” I brushed tears from his cheeks. “Kaiwan made it clear what the odds are. She already gave me my miracle—another chance for you. What’s wrong with wanting to protect that?”

  I thought he might keep protesting then. He had faced a moon-soul and won. He had defeated the tundra. He had faced the warrior of time and not been shaken. Hei, of all people in this world, would have some other way.

  But he only surrendered himself over to his tears, and hid his face against my shoulder. Maybe it had weighed on him too, that the dice might turn on us again.

  She was right. The hour was at hand.

  And I wasn’t going to let Umber win this time.

  Chapter Ten

  There were only so many places to go. And none of them would be completely safe.

  My instincts screamed to take Hei and fly, as far and as fast as my wings could stand, and pray the wind divided us from our fates. But Hei was exhausted and needed food. I still had to collect my thoughts, rest, make a plan. Hei had carried me this far. I could come through for him this time.

  The hollow sleep-filled edge of the night was approaching, falling like a curtain over the hum of the lower streets. Though neither sun nor moon touched so deep, the pall of the transitioning hours still left its stain. I gathered Hei in my arms and flew, low to the ground and in the shadows, making as quick a path as I could manage out of the night-streets.

  Dawn was already raising its fist, threatening descent in the next few hours. It would not protect us. Umber rarely went to the upper streets, but he would withstand a little sun if it meant victory. And the eyes of his flock were stationed all over the city. Were I him, I would have had specters stationed in the warehouse, at my tower, and every block interceding. I hadn’t detected any presence tonight, but the information would find a way to him eventually. Via Tamueji if nothing else.

  I feared what she would do now, once she found out about Kadzuhikhan’s destruction. If I imagined the pulse of information in Serenity, something became clear. Everything didn’t flow through Umber. It flowed through Tamueji. She was the counter of deaths. If she sided with us again, we might be saved. If she didn’t, we would fall.

  I took Hei to an old, well-used hostel. Body heat and the scent of spiced wine wrapped
the walls like perfume. It was busy here, full of travelers, the sounds of rutting, and the air inside was tinted with a drugged haze. It wouldn’t be perfect cover by far, but a room inside was less conspicuous than taking Hei to some spire at the edge of the city within view of forty odd specters.

  He hugged himself, dropping his bag on the bed’s brown-tinged blankets. “Do you have ways of knowing if there are specters watching?”

  I peered out a slit in the blind at the window, already having examined the room. The gleam of Lightray at Hei’s back was a slight comfort, at least. “Nothing foolproof. There’s no special virtue for that, just keep an eye on the shadows. If they start moving, we’re probably fucked.” That, and specters could hear. There could be a few hovering outside the window, eavesdropping.

  I didn’t want to chew on this so Hei could hear, but the chances that we’d gone unnoticed for hours were basically zero. I tried to imagine Umber’s game plan in setting this situation, letting it get knocked down, and then disappearing to let the dust settle. If it was meant to be a trap, it was a strange one. Except when viewed through the lens of someone who wanted to observe us scratching through the confusion. Someone extracting his ice-cold satisfaction from our uncertainty, all of our plans and hopes and brave decisions rising up to be clawed back down to earth by him.

  It probably wasn’t a trap, but an exercise. A “test.” He’d been honest with me, in his way, from the start. Hell, he may have even expected and wanted Kadzuhikhan to die.

  But why the hell would he care about Kaiwan? He’d stayed away from her for presumably generations. What had changed?

  I’d snuck down to a food stand and returned with bowls of rice, laden with fried meat and cabbage. There was a beef-blood sauce that I had to admit smelled like heaven, which I was currently sucking down from the paper container. Hei sat with crossed legs on the bed, gently poking at his meal. I swallowed an urge to encourage him to eat more. He might have been too worn out to think of food, which seemed to mark the difference between mortals and living-again. Food was the only need that seemed all-encompassing. Then again, I couldn’t remember what mortality had been like.