Shadows in the Trees: Book 1

Chapter 59

Over a week had passed since Julian had seen those three chairs on the hill. It was all he could think about. While everyone else had been preparing for more battle, caring for the wounded, Julian had been looking for a way out of the city. 

So far, he had found nothing. He had even ventured into the storm drains and sewers, where he had vomited several times from the smell. But all of the tunnels had multiple metal grates keeping anything larger than a rat from going in or out. 

He walked along the walls of the city yet again, praying to find a ladder, a foothold, a hole he had missed. He passed under the ramparts he had fought on, avoiding the eyes of the soldiers posted there. The walls shuddered as another boulder slammed into them, dust falling down like snow. But they didn't break. 

He almost wished they would. 

He didn't dare ask to leave the city for fear of being labelled a traitor. Not that any of the women here would honor his request anyway. He was largely ignored, something he wasn't used to. He wondered if the soldiers and advisors at home only listened to him because he was a prince and not because he was smart, or interesting, or helpful. He shook his head. Of course not, he thought to himself. But the doubt lingered, clinging to his shoulders and weighing them down. 

Flaming projectiles whistled over his head from the ramparts. He noticed the women had been raining their strange, purple fire down on his father's armies for days now, though the gates remained firmly shut. He coughed as the breeze shifted, bringing the caustic smell of sulfur and burning flesh back over the wall. 

The prison came into view as he left the ramparts behind. He had gone to see Jaida once, but she mostly just moaned in her sleep. Rhiannon hardly left her side except for the occasional council meeting, gripping her hand like Jaida would float away if she let go. The thought left an unexpected pang in his chest. Though he loathed to admit it, he found himself caring more about the Kheprians than he expected. He murmured a quick prayer to the One God for Jaida, asking for a swift recovery. 

The wall had led him behind many of the villas on the outskirts of the city. Most had gardens filling the space between the home and the wall. He pushed aside the plants that stood in his way, popping the occasional ripe tomato or berry in his mouth as he passed. 

He nearly tripped over Vess, her mottled skin blending in with the greenery. 

"By the One God!" he blustered, straightening his tunic. "What are you doing sitting in the middle of someone's garden!"

"What are you doing picking berries that are not yours?" Vess countered, looking pointedly at his stained fingers. He tucked them behind his back. 

"These gardens are for everyone," he said. He wasn't sure if that was true, but it seemed like something a Thraelian would say. 

If Vess knew better, she didn't argue. She looked back at the dark soil she was perched on. 

"You seem . . . sad," Julian said, taking a seat next to her. The soil compressed like his down pillows at home, cradling his body. "You never told me what you were doing out here." 

Vess studied him with her bottomless eyes. "You are not the sort to ask after one's well-being. What are you after?" 

"Sure I am!" he said, affronted. "I'm not after anything, I just -- I don't know. You remind me of myself, I guess." Vess tilted her head. "It's just -- after my mother died, I used to go out and sit in the gardens like this when I wanted to be left alone." 

"Why?" 

"Damon and I always took walks in the garden with my mother," he said. His voice grew thick, remembering the flower crowns they would make each other. "It reminded me of her. And the gardens were so large, it usually took a while for anyone to find me."