Xeni
Darknessembracesthecityin a way that feels artificial. It’s far different from nighttime in the village. There, true blackness reigns, broken only by the occasional flicker of a flame or the soft glow from a window. The electricity there is novel enough to be a luxury, usually leaving nights wrapped in quiet stars and peaceful silence.
Here, a truly dark night is an impossibility. Streetlights line the main paths in steady rows, shop signs remain illuminated despite the late hour, and the high-rise buildings cast towering grids of yellow light from their windows onto the roads below. Even the alleyways are lit by a gentle glow, though shadows linger in the corners and crevices.
Sakane has lived a lifetime in this city and knows its twists and turns by heart. We spent the afternoon mapping a routeand several alternatives, then snatched a few hours of sleep to prepare for the long night ahead.
Atlanta spans almost ten miles from the east wall to the west, and we’re on foot. Our planned exit is an old drainage system that ends in a culvert through the walls. According to Nelly, it was never guarded because the rushing water had always been too dangerous to consider it a viable entry point. As rain has become scarcer over the years, the flow has all but vanished, but no guards were ever stationed there to account for the change.
The four miles from Nelly’s apartment to the culvert will take all night and possibly stretch into the morning. We’re relying on sewers, vacant buildings, old subway tunnels, and unpatrolled alleyways, but we still have to be smart—and being smart means channeling my nonexistent patience.
Nelly walks us to the basement, where everyone takes turns saying goodbye. I hover at the back of the group as always, never quite sure where I’m wanted or appreciated, but she spots my discomfort and reaches for me.
Her hug is motherly and smells of cinnamon and vanilla. It holds a warmth I haven’t felt since Bheera was forced away from my side that night.
“I see pieces of her in you, you know,” she whispers, pulling back to look at me with eyes full of quiet affection. “The way you rub your thumbnail against your pointer finger when you’re nervous, and how you think biting your lip can hide your smile. She’s in your laugh. It’s subtle, but it’s there. She left a piece of herself in you, and she would be proud of what you’ve done with it.”
Heat prickles behind my eye, and I swoop her in for another hug, holding on a moment longer.
“I’m sorry you lost her,” I whisper as I fight back my tears, “but is it okay to say I’m happy I got to have her for those years?”
“Yes, child. Of course it’s okay. Her love was always so generous. She wanted to spread it to everyone she met, but you were special. She gave you more than most because she saw you needed it.”
I squeeze tighter, clinging to the comfort in her arms, and I hope she can feel Bheera in my hug in the same way I do.
“She showed me what it meant to love. I would’ve been swept away by the hatred in that house if it wasn’t for her. She was there for me when no one else was, and I will never stop being thankful for her and her fantastical stories.” We both choke on a laugh. “All those ridiculous bedtime tales about fated mates and love so powerful it could heal the world. Can you imagine?”
“Ridiculous, indeed,” she agrees with a soft chuckle.
I pull back to look into her shimmering eyes. “You’re sure you can’t come with us? I would protect you.”
“Running is a young person’s game, Xeni. I’m far too old and stubborn to leave this place after so long.”
“You could be free.”
Nelly reaches for my face, and I duck to accommodate her shorter stature as she tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and pats my cheek.
“Bheera has been gone for over thirty years now, but I still feel her here. Just like that pull draws you to him,” she says as she nods toward Bash, “that tug in my middle yanks sometimes when I’m home. I can’t leave her, even in memory.”
She becomes contemplative as she studies my face. “How that must’ve destroyed you to be away from him.”
“It did,” I agree, twisting to find Bash watching us curiously from the sewer entrance. “But it was worth it to save him from the same fate.”
“Keep him safe,” she says with that same quiet sadness.
I turn to her once more. It’s goodbye, in that same inexplicable way I knew it was goodbye when Bheera walked out of my bedroom all those years ago. In my heart, I know I’ll never see her again.
A flood of emotion hits me as I pull her into another hug. “Take care of yourself.”
“You do the same, sweet boy,” she whispers into my shoulder, and her gaze is fond as it sweeps over the group. “Be safe. If you should ever find yourselves in the city, my home is always open to you.”
Metal scrapes as Cato drags the cover off the sewer entrance, and he gestures toward the ladder as he glances at me.
“It’ll be nice not to haul your heavy ass through this time.”
“Youcarried me?” I ask, appalled.
Bash chuckles as he comes to my side. “You aren’t exactly small,” he says. “Do you have any idea how exhausting it was to carry your unconscious body for that long? I was too worn out to get you up that ladder.”
