Son of No City

Chapter 18

The Black Fortress sat before him, flat and large on its bed of slightly elevated land that ended where the Initri River spilled out into the ocean. Leithan saw a couple of red-billed gulls flying over it.

It wasn't even black, it was gray. Just boring gray quarry stone.

But then, Leithan supposed, the Gray Fortress didn't sound as intimidating.

It was circular, built like a ring with an inner cloister where good-behaving prisoners could frequently go and take a walk, breathe some fresh air. Leithan knew his mom was let out twice a week, for one hour each time. It wasn't much, but she said it helped.

He was just in time for his mother's appointed visiting hours.

For nine years and a half now, he'd been coming here every Saturday afternoon.

It was always the same. The guard on duty, Jasper, put Leithan's name on the registry, got the brass key from a locked drawer, and walked with him along the women's wing.

The cell had enough space for two beds, a desk and chair, some shelves, and a small woodstove. There were hooks on the walls for clothing and accessories, one mirror, and a small barred window that looked out on the inner cloister. They also had their own adjoined bathroom, tiny but functional.

Over the years, and as soon as he'd had enough savings – which wasn't easy on a novice's salary – Leithan had helped furnish it. Against the rules, but no one had the heart to say anything, especially not Jasper.

Cieltz wool carpet to cover the stone floor, books for his mother's shelves, liquor bottles for the hidden stashes underneath their beds, two paintings of famous Rengleam Federation landscapes – the Yelen Peaks and the North Plains. Leithan and his mother were both fascinated by snow, having read about it and seen it on paintings, but never experienced it for themselves.

Valira Blackfeather sat, as usual, at the desk, books and notebooks laid open around her, scribbling with her left hand because she no longer had the right – just another shitty outcome of the dreadful night Leithan had lost his father. She'd had time to relearn, of course, but her scrawl had never got as elegant as it used to be.

Fin sat on her bed, propped up against the pillow, long legs crossed, and she had one of those wood logic puzzles in her hands, trying to figure out the solution. If Leithan remembered correctly, she'd already figured it out a couple of weeks back, but since then she must've forgotten how.

Jasper unlocked the barred door and let him in.

Valira smiled as she looked up from her notes. As always, she had ink stains along the edge of her left hand, from wrist bone to little finger. Being five inches shorter than he was, she raised herself up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and pull him into a hug, which he earnestly gave back.

"It's good to see you!" she said, a smile in her voice.

Leithan smiled back. "Good to see you too."

Most of the time they spoke in Rengleam, like just now. Sometimes they switched to Yoxai, mainly if Valira felt rusty and wanted to practice. Depended on her mood.

They took their usual spots, Valira at the edge of her bed, Leithan on the wooden desk chair, turning it around to face her. Then, he picked out items from his bag. It felt almost ritualistic.

Fin kept on grappling with her puzzle, pretending like nothing was happening. That, too, was conventional.

And Jasper took his seat in the hallway, by the open door, crossing his arms. But he was smiling. Years ago, he appeared all serious and solemn about his duties, but he'd mellowed greatly since then. Now he often participated in their conversations and he was basically a part of the family.