ashen city (Black Tiger Series Book 2)

by Sara Baysinger

  “What was our mother like?” she asks.

  Her question is so unexpected I almost forget how to speak. And then I think, what right has she to know? She deserves to suffer, to never know what her mom was like. Because Mom would be completely ashamed of Aurora.

  “Nothing like you,” I say.

  She winces and looks away. Well, shoot. I’m not helping my case. Maybe talking about Mom will soften her heart a little so she can talk about Titus.

  I hunch forward, reach into that most tender part of my mind where I keep the most important memories locked away.

  “Mom was…exactly what you would expect a mother to be,” I begin. “She was warm, affectionate. Always understanding. Always putting other’s needs above her own.”

  “What did she look like?”

  I swallow hard. “She looked a lot like us. Or…you. Long dark hair, green eyes.” I try to remember her exact features, but it’s been so long. And I’m beginning to forget what she looked like. “I think I remember her voice best,” I say. “It was soothing, like the wind. She was always singing, always humming, always happy.” I can almost feel her fingers weaving through my hair while she hums me to sleep, and my heart squeezes so tight it’s hard to breathe. My eyes burn with unexpected tears, but I blink them back.

  Aurora sits on the ground, leans back against the rock, her arms bound behind her back. “And Elijah…is he her son, too?”

  I clear my throat. “Yes.”

  “So he’s…my brother.”

  “Half brother.” My voice comes out a bit sharper than I intend.

  “And she never told either of you about me or-or Titus?” she keeps facing forward. I can’t see her features. Not that I care to.

  “No,” I whisper. “She never told Dad about you either, though. Her Patrician life was something she never bothered to share with any of us.”

  “And now that you know, you want to take the throne, yes?”

  “No.”

  Her shoulders shake with a short laugh, and she finally turns to face me, her eyes mocking. “No?”

  “The Resurgence wants me to lead the uprising and take the helm. It wasn’t my idea at all. I honestly don’t want anything to do with Frankfort or Patricians or leading a shoddy country.”

  “Figures.”

  “What do you mean, figures?”

  “Because you’re mommy’s girl. Mother couldn’t handle the pressure of Patrician life, either. It made her crazy. She apparently couldn’t even handle taking care of more than one child at a time, either. That’s why she only took you with her. Little Ember, the sick, weak baby. You weren’t even supposed to live.”

  My heart plummets into my stomach. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, don’t you know?” Her eyes fill with false pity. “When we were born, you were the weakling. You were supposed to die. Father was going to show mercy, try to end it quickly for you, but Mother ran away before he could do anything. Pathetic. Father said she never could stand up for herself. If she’d just asked to let you live, he would have allowed you to live a miserable short life for her sake. Instead she took the passive-aggressive way out and bolted. Without a word.”

  Stop. It’s too much. Too much to take in. And the fact that my own father wanted me dead makes me angry and sad all at once and I struggle to know which emotion to cling to.

  I choose anger.

  “I guess he was wrong, then,” I say, fighting back my tears. “I’m perfectly healthy.”

  “Yeah, because she took you to some witch doctor, no doubt.” An arrogant smile creeps on her lips. “You’re probably cursed and don’t even know it.”

  I want to smack her. When did this turn into an interrogation on me? I’m supposed to be the one making her angry. I’m supposed to be the one finding out about her.

  “Who’s Gideon?” I ask, trying to forget everything she just said.

  She turns back around so I can’t see her face. And silence. Complete. Silence.

  “You had your turn for questions,” I say. “Now it’s my turn.”

  “Sorry, sister. I don’t play fair.”

  Now I really want to punch her. And her head is the perfect target. She’s not even expecting it and couldn’t deflect me if she tried. I could knock her out so hard if I wanted—

  No. Keep it classy, Ember.

  I have to squeeze my fists on my lap to keep myself from lashing out. I always wanted a sister. Now I understand why fate didn’t allow it. We would have killed each other at birth. Maybe I can come up with another question. One that’s a bit less personal, but still gold to the Resurgence.

  “Where’s Titus keeping the antitoxin?”

  “Seriously?” she whispers. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

  “So you know about it, then?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Um, pretty much all of Ky doesn’t know.”

  “Titus tells me everything.” She looks back at me, and by the mocking look in her eyes, I completely believe her. “I’m his sister. I’m next in line to rule if anything happens to him. Not you. You’re not even built to rule. You wouldn’t know what to do when the first list of the country’s problems were in front of your face.”

  My heart starts to pound.

  “I know exactly how many citizens are in Ky,” she says. “What their lowly careers are, how pathetically brainless they are—”

  And I snap. I’m off the rock, and I’m lunging toward her, my hands outstretched for her neck, but suddenly her hands are loose. How did she unbind her hand? But I don’t have time to think about it, because she’s grabbing my wrist in her strong fist, and she’s on her feet. She twists my hand until blinding pain shoots up my arm, but before I can scream she knees me in the gut, grabs a fistful of my hair and brings her knee up in collision with my head.

  Stars explode behind my eyelids. And I’m disoriented and there’s darkness. I’m spinning and falling, and then I feel the hard ground on my back, knocking the breath out of me, and all my thoughts scatter into oblivion.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Ember.

  My name sounds like an echo. I blink my eyes open to darkness. Darkness all around. Pitch black. Have I died? I blink again, just to make sure my eyes are really open. The dark is confining, constricting. It’s everywhere, so thick I can almost feel it. I sit up but immediately regret doing so when a stabbing pain shoots into my head.

  I groan and place my hand on my temples.

  “Ember!”

  A voice. Someone’s calling my name. “Here!” My voice sounds weak, so I force more air into my lungs and try again. “Over here!”

  A light. I see a light, then hear footsteps running toward me. Captain Mcallister is at my side in a minute. But he’s not a captain. He’s not a Defender. He’s James. Rain’s friend. A part of the Resurgence. He sets the lamp down, his chocolate eyes scanning my face.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  “She attacked me. And escaped.” I look around as though she’s still here. “We need to go. We have to get her before—”

  “Already done.”

  “You-you caught her?” I look at him, confused. “How long was I out?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know, but we figured you were out here when we caught her trying to sneak out of the cavern. Jonah sent a search party out for you. We’ve been looking for a good hour. But Aurora is back in her tent, well guarded.”

  “Good thing,” I say. “She was clearly trained in mortal combat. She threw punches so quickly I couldn’t even comprehend what was happening.” And she’s strong. Much stronger than I could have ever imagined. Much stronger than me.

  Just one more thing she has that I don’t.

  Mcallister helps me to my feet, and we head back through the cavern toward the camp. When I return, Dad envelops me in a tight embrace. Jonah approaches with some water, and I tell him what happened, how she was able to get the cords off, how strong and skilled she is.

 
“She’s not as weak as she looks,” I say, then mumble, “Or as dumb.”

  After the commotion dies down and everyone who was out searching for me is accounted for, I go outside. Alone. To get some fresh air and clear my pounding head. Mcallister tries to stop me, saying I should rest after a blow to the head like that, but I ignore him. I need to think. I need to breathe.

  A blast of brisk wind slams into my face as soon as I step out, and I almost regret my decision. If there’s just one thing I like about Frankfort, it’s the cupola. Seventy-two degrees sounds divine right about now. December through January are possibly the worst months to be outside. Snow. Winter vortexes. And ice, ice, ice everywhere. But spring will come in February like a warm embrace, with the heat of summer following close behind. I’ll take a hot summer over this bitter cold any day. I pull my coat tighter around my neck, tuck my ears under my cap, and begin walking up the pathway where I can get a good glimpse of the heart of Louisville in the distance.

  I miss Rain’s intolerable company. I miss the way he lightened the mood. I even miss how he provoked me at the most inconvenient moments. Because right now, I want to take a walk with Rain. I want to see how he would react to Aurora, and I want to ask how I should react. Because Uncle Jonah seems to think we should all get along. We’re family. But it doesn’t matter if Aurora and I have the same DNA, I want nothing to do with her. Except to get valuable information from her head.

  And I want all of it.

  How much does she know exactly? She said Titus tells her everything. And she already knows more than all the Patricians and half the politicians. She knows about the antitoxin and possibly where it’s stored. She seems like a shallow, snotty Patrician to me, but I’m beginning to wonder if she knows everything Titus knows so she can rule the country exactly as he does if anything happens to him.

  Which means if we dispose of Titus like the Resurgence wants to do, then we need to dispose of Aurora too. Unless we can get her on our side, like Jonah thinks we can.

  Jonah Walker. Leader of the Resurgence. I think he was more emotional at the realization that Aurora was alive than he was when I arrived. Maybe because he knew I was alive all this time, while he thought for sixteen years that Aurora was dead.

  And for the first time, I wonder what emotions Jonah is experiencing. His brother-in-law, Chief Aden, was a monster while leading Ky and now so is his nephew. His sister—my mother—is dead. And all that’s left of our family is incapable me, monster Titus, and now Aurora. Little Aurora who was supposed to be dead. Aurora, who has the knowledge and capacity and willingness to rule a whole country, but has the brainless loyalty to Titus like a dog to its master. Of course Jonah is excited about her resurrection from the dead. If he can just get her on our side, he has himself a real leader.

  And maybe I should be happy about that. Because there’s no way I can rule Ky. And if there’s no one here to rule Ky, the country will go up in flames. In order to make a smooth transition, Ky needs someone with Whitcomb blood to rule. And if Titus is assassinated, that leaves it to me and Aurora.

  So maybe.

  Maybe I should try a little harder to get on her good side. Maybe I should try some of this sisterly bonding time Jonah mentioned. Maybe I should let her know about the mother who left her, and maybe I should find out where exactly Aurora has been living all this time. Because if Titus is the monster I know he is, she might have had a worse childhood than me.

  And that one little sliver of knowledge is enough to make me turn around. And walk back into the caverns.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  My plan to talk to Aurora fails completely. I enter her tent, and she shows absolutely no interest in conversing with me. She avoids eye contact. Avoids showing any form of emotion. I almost feel invisible. And if I didn’t think she could overpower me, I would flick her nose just to have the reminder that she’s human and not a robot.

  And she goes on like this.

  For the next ten days.

  She won’t take any visitors, and she won’t speak a single word to anyone. Not even Jonah, who serves her food in her tent like a common servant. So entitled, that one. So used to living like a queen, she somehow manipulates those around her to treat her as such, and they do it.

  Disgusting.

  So I avoid her. It’s too maddening going in there, trying to reach out, when she clearly wants me dead. Mcallister and the three other ex-Defenders take turns standing by her tent, escorting her around the few times she chooses to step out.

  Until further word from Rain, the Resurgence continues their routine, spending the majority of the day exercising, training in mortal combat, learning how to shoot guns, and planning. I’m glad Aurora isn’t out here to watch. She would get a good laugh watching me try to throw a punch, considering she’s a pro at mortal combat.

  No word from Rain. Which means things must be going smoothly back in Ky, assuming Rain is okay. Holy Crawford, I hope he’s okay. No word of Titus’s people searching for Aurora. Which means he must not care for her as much as she thinks. No word from anyone, and as much as I like to believe that no news is good news, I’m growing anxious, restless, ready for something to happen. Because the longer it takes for us to take action, the more Proletariats are starving while others are being imprisoned for stealing food.

  It’s time for change.

  And for the sake of all our sanity, it’s best if that change happens soon.

  ***

  Someone prods me in the shoulder. I jerk up and almost scream.

  “Shh. It’s just me. Elijah.”

  My heartbeat slows to a normal rhythm. “What are you doing?” I ask. “Is it morning already?” It’s so hard to tell in these caverns, but usually I can hear people stirring when it’s morning, and I don’t hear anything but the deep breathing of Ash and Kate beside me.

  “I want to show you something,” Elijah whispers. “Outside the caverns.”

  After pulling on my boots, scarf, and the cap Rain got me, I exit the tent. Jonah’s already at the fire pit, rekindling the embers into licking flames, and Richa is setting a teapot over the fire. I follow Elijah down the corridor that leads outside.

  “Elijah,” I ask. “Where are we going?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  I laugh. “Why not?”

  “I just—I can’t. But I can promise you’re going to love it.”

  I follow him out of the cavern to the outside world. No snow covers the ground now, and the air isn’t nearly as cold as it was just ten days ago. It’s just a bit colder than the cavern, fifty degrees, maybe. Must be February.

  “It’s almost spring,” Elijah says, grinning back at me. It’s still dark out, but Elijah carries a lantern and I jog to keep up with him as we walk up the crumbling road leading to the ashen city.

  I try not to get too freaked out by the abandoned windows and the way the early morning wind whistles through the empty streets. The vines swallowing up some of the buildings are turning a deeper shade of green, another sign that spring is creeping on the horizon.

  I heard spring didn’t used to arrive until around March or April and winter began in November. But the world has changed in the last hundred years, and winter lasts all of two months. The payback is that summer is excruciatingly hot and long.

  We walk for a good couple miles until I see the bridge and the wide Ohio River ahead.

  “Elijah?” I say, apprehension creeping up my spine. “You’re not planning on…crossing the river, are you?”

  “Without Dad? No way. Besides, I’m having too much fun working with the Fearless Six.” He grins proudly. “I’m going to be a hero, you know.”

  “Is that how they got you to work with them?”

  “No. I always wanted change in Ky.”

  Of course he has. It’s something Dad ingrained in our heads from childhood. How bad the government is and how we shouldn’t be afraid to do something about it. I was never really willing to stand up for what I believed in. I just wanted to run
away. But then, Elijah is Dad’s real child. His blood carries those fearless, defiant genes that I lack.

  We walk closer to the bridge, then take a sharp turn down a narrower street, and we travel deeper into the heart of the city. The empty buildings get taller, more foreboding. The windows are blown out, and some of the buildings look like they could collapse at any moment beneath the power of the vines.

  I wonder what this city looked like when Thomas Merton had that revelation. I imagine the ashen city as it was before the White Plague struck, when life still hung in the air. I imagine traffic flooding the streets and people of every race crowding on the sidewalks, the sunlight splashing across their faces. I imagine the buildings standing whole and tall and complete, mirroring the strength of its inhabitants. What a city Louisville must have been. What a glorious community of radical thinkers and activists. I wish I could push back time and see it with my own eyes.

  We walk another good mile or two until we arrive at the tallest, most beautiful building in Louisville. One of the few that’s still standing tall and proud. The vines don’t even reach half the building’s height. It’s a good thirty-plus stories tall with a dome at the top. We step through a shattered window, and Elijah leads me up the stairs.

  “Are you sure you know where we’re going?” I ask.

  “Of course I do.”

  “You know this building could probably collapse at any moment, right?”

  He looks at me and rolls his eyes. “I’ve been coming out here for the past three weeks with the Fearless Six, training. Nothing’s happened yet. I think the most fragile parts have already crumbled.”

  The stairs are endless, and when we finally ascend thirty-five stories and step up to the window, I realize the entire trek was completely worth it.