City of Burning Shadows (Apocrypha: The Dying World) by Barbara J. Webb Page B
Authors: Barbara J. Webb
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eccentric. He liked to watch non-Jansynians going about their lives and entertainments. Not unlike going to the zoo. I never met him face-to-face, so I don’t know if he was as unpleasant a person as he sounded.
But I did meet Seana as she and her security team scouted Kaifail’s temple in preparation for his attendance.
I drew short straw that week, so I’d been assigned to assist her and her team, to show them anything they wanted to see and keep them from getting lost on our sprawling campus. Four Jansynians in sleek black suits, taciturn and superior and—I was certain—quietly judging me. Because I wasn’t one of them. Because I was different. I knew enough about them back then to understand that, in their eyes, different was one of the greatest sins I could commit.
I hated it. Not just because they weren’t any fun to be around, but because I had research of my own sitting neglected while I played babysitter. I wanted it over with. I wanted them to go home.
Until Seana started asking me questions. Not just questions about how many doors there were into the theater and how many people we expected opening night, but questions about the art on the walls, the stories behind the topiaries in the gardens and the mosaics in the narthex.
Then she asked if she could see the library. Of course I was happy to show it to her. Her companions were impatient. What could Kaifail possibly have here that Jansyn hadn’t already collected, cataloged, processed? Seana sent them back to the Crescent and I escorted her alone on what I would later think of as our first date.
Seana was a sensualist at heart. As I walked her through Dark Kaifail’s cathedral, she traced her fingertips down leather bindings, inhaled the scents of old paper and ink. She marveled at the research room in the archive, and listened so attentively I rambled at length about my job.
We went for coffee and it was my turn to listen. She talked about Arisia, about the Crescent, what it was like to be born into a life where you knew there would always be a place for you, always someone to care for you—even if that someone was a company. No, not a company, she explained—a family.
Two nights later, she came to my house. In her hand was a bottle of wine, because she understood that was how humans pursued romance. I didn’t turn her away then, or any night that came after.
She was intense. Brilliant and interested in everything, and deeply passionate, even if she expressed that passion differently from any person I’d ever known.
I loved her. She loved me.
For three years, I believed that was enough.
#
When Micah and Copper arrived, neither looked pleased with the other. “What happened?” Micah asked as soon as he was up on the roof. “Are you all right?”
“Iris got to Copper before she could shoot me.”
“Before she could—what?” Micah rounded on Copper who’d just stepped off the ladder. “You tried to shoot him?”
Copper rolled her eyes. “I didn’t plan on shooting him. I just had the gun out so he knew I was serious.”
Which was a lie. Or maybe, now she’d had a chance to calm down, Copper believed that. Either way, it wasn’t worth arguing about. “It doesn’t matter. Everyone’s fine.”
Micah still looked uneasy but didn’t argue with me. “We should get out of the sun, at any rate. Let’s move this upstairs.”
“Fine,” Copper said. “Might as well show them where we’re hiding. Not like that’s a secret anymore, since he saw you from the lift. And then next we can send engraved invitations to the Jansynians.” She gave me one more black look, then waved for us all to follow.
From the rooftop, we crossed a rickety-looking plank bridge to another access ladder that ran up a girder. That terminated at a locked electrical box, but a rope web had been woven among the thick wires that led out from the box. Copper made it look easy, finding purchase on the rope with her overlong fingers and
But I did meet Seana as she and her security team scouted Kaifail’s temple in preparation for his attendance.
I drew short straw that week, so I’d been assigned to assist her and her team, to show them anything they wanted to see and keep them from getting lost on our sprawling campus. Four Jansynians in sleek black suits, taciturn and superior and—I was certain—quietly judging me. Because I wasn’t one of them. Because I was different. I knew enough about them back then to understand that, in their eyes, different was one of the greatest sins I could commit.
I hated it. Not just because they weren’t any fun to be around, but because I had research of my own sitting neglected while I played babysitter. I wanted it over with. I wanted them to go home.
Until Seana started asking me questions. Not just questions about how many doors there were into the theater and how many people we expected opening night, but questions about the art on the walls, the stories behind the topiaries in the gardens and the mosaics in the narthex.
Then she asked if she could see the library. Of course I was happy to show it to her. Her companions were impatient. What could Kaifail possibly have here that Jansyn hadn’t already collected, cataloged, processed? Seana sent them back to the Crescent and I escorted her alone on what I would later think of as our first date.
Seana was a sensualist at heart. As I walked her through Dark Kaifail’s cathedral, she traced her fingertips down leather bindings, inhaled the scents of old paper and ink. She marveled at the research room in the archive, and listened so attentively I rambled at length about my job.
We went for coffee and it was my turn to listen. She talked about Arisia, about the Crescent, what it was like to be born into a life where you knew there would always be a place for you, always someone to care for you—even if that someone was a company. No, not a company, she explained—a family.
Two nights later, she came to my house. In her hand was a bottle of wine, because she understood that was how humans pursued romance. I didn’t turn her away then, or any night that came after.
She was intense. Brilliant and interested in everything, and deeply passionate, even if she expressed that passion differently from any person I’d ever known.
I loved her. She loved me.
For three years, I believed that was enough.
#
When Micah and Copper arrived, neither looked pleased with the other. “What happened?” Micah asked as soon as he was up on the roof. “Are you all right?”
“Iris got to Copper before she could shoot me.”
“Before she could—what?” Micah rounded on Copper who’d just stepped off the ladder. “You tried to shoot him?”
Copper rolled her eyes. “I didn’t plan on shooting him. I just had the gun out so he knew I was serious.”
Which was a lie. Or maybe, now she’d had a chance to calm down, Copper believed that. Either way, it wasn’t worth arguing about. “It doesn’t matter. Everyone’s fine.”
Micah still looked uneasy but didn’t argue with me. “We should get out of the sun, at any rate. Let’s move this upstairs.”
“Fine,” Copper said. “Might as well show them where we’re hiding. Not like that’s a secret anymore, since he saw you from the lift. And then next we can send engraved invitations to the Jansynians.” She gave me one more black look, then waved for us all to follow.
From the rooftop, we crossed a rickety-looking plank bridge to another access ladder that ran up a girder. That terminated at a locked electrical box, but a rope web had been woven among the thick wires that led out from the box. Copper made it look easy, finding purchase on the rope with her overlong fingers and
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