The City That Forgot

Zerodawn Archworth.

The name had followed Julian into sleep.

Or attempted sleep, at least.

Every time he closed his eyes, Fort Giden returned in pieces: stone rushing past his body, blood filling his mouth, red eyes inside impossible darkness, a sword passing through his chest without killing him.

Then the memories changed.

Mirai at the dinner table.

Geen beside her.

The sealed marriage agreement between their Houses.

Andrei's name burning beside his own above the Fate Urn.

Rudorfild.

Fifteen days.

No—fourteen now.

Julian opened his eyes before dawn and remained staring at the ceiling until the first pale light began leaking through the window.

The mark beneath his shirt was warm.

Not painful.

Just present.

That was somehow worse.

A knock struck the door.

"Julian."

Geen.

Julian closed his eyes again.

"He's dead."

The door opened.

Geen stood there already dressed, black hair immaculate and expression unimpressed.

"Unfortunately, no."

"Then why ask?"

"I didn't."

Julian pushed himself upright. "Good point."

Geen remained in the doorway.

"Father wants everyone downstairs."

"That sentence has never improved a morning."

"He has a field assignment."

Julian's sleepiness disappeared.

"For whom?"

Geen looked at him.

That answered the question.

Julian stared back.

"Wonderful."

Geen turned away.

"Five minutes."

"Ten."

"Five."

"Eight."

Geen kept walking.

Julian waited until his footsteps faded.

"Seven, then."

"Six," Geen called from the corridor.

Julian frowned.

"Fucking demon."

A soft feminine laugh answered from somewhere in the room.

He froze.

The sound vanished before he could locate it.

"Not you."

No response.

That was becoming irritating.

Julian stood and reached for his shirt.

Before he managed to pull it over his head, another knock came.

Gentler this time.

"Come in."

Fehrir Natalian entered carrying a small breakfast tray.

Her long dark-brown hair had already been braided behind her, and the sober household uniform made her look as though morning had been waiting for her permission to begin.

Julian eyed the biscuits.

"Mother sent reinforcements?"

"Those are for Juny."

"Brutal."

Fehrir almost smiled.

Then she lifted an envelope from beneath the folded cloth on the tray.

"This is for you."

Julian's humor disappeared.

Heavy paper.

Wax seal.

Makinden.

He did not need to open it to know whose handwriting he expected inside.

"Arrived this morning," Fehrir said. "The courier asked that it be delivered directly."

Julian accepted the envelope carefully.

It weighed almost nothing.

It still felt heavier than Gilty Defender probably did.

"Did he say who sent it?"

"No."

Fehrir glanced at the seal.

"But I don't think he needed to."

Mirai.

Of course.

Maybe an apology.

Maybe an explanation.

Maybe something Julian absolutely did not want to read before sitting at a table with Geen.

He slipped the envelope into the inside pocket of his coat.

"Thanks."

Fehrir's eyes lingered on him.

"You aren't going to open it?"

"Eventually."

"That's not the same thing."

"Today it is."

She studied him another moment, then nodded.

"Lord Antonius is waiting."

"So everyone keeps reminding him."

"He doesn't enjoy waiting."

"Neither do I."

Fehrir raised an eyebrow.

"One of you commands this house."

"Temporary structural failure."

This time she did smile.

Small.

Quick.

Then she left.

Julian touched the envelope through the fabric.

Fourteen days until Rudorfild.

A demon in his head.

A woman in a letter he was afraid to open.

And now his father had found somewhere else to send him.

Excellent.

He headed downstairs.

◆ ◆ ◆

The entire immediate family was already seated when Julian entered the dining room.

Antonius occupied the head of the table, naturally. Jeane sat beside him with a cup of tea she had apparently forgotten to drink. Geen sat straight-backed and silent. Juny had placed his sketchbook beside his plate and was attempting to draw something without Antonius noticing.

Antonius noticed everything.

He simply chose which things deserved punishment.

"Sit," he said.

Julian pulled out the chair between Geen and Juny.

"Good morning."

Antonius ignored the attempt at civility.

"The next two weeks will require adjustments."

Geen's eyes moved slightly.

Juny stopped drawing.

Antonius continued.

"Geen will spend several days at the Makinden residence. Joint preparation has been scheduled with Mirai's group before the next cycle of Lazarell evaluations."

Julian kept his face neutral.

The letter inside his coat suddenly felt warmer.

Geen did not look at him.

"Juny has his seminar at the Central Chapel," Antonius continued. "The schedule remains unchanged."

Juny sighed.

"Can it change?"

"No."

"Thought I'd ask."

Antonius's attention shifted to Julian.

"And you will travel to Aridem."

Julian blinked.

Jeane looked at her husband.

"Aridem?"

There was enough concern in the single word to make Julian pay attention.

Antonius folded his hands.

"I require a fresh Clastinos sample."

Juny stopped pretending not to listen.

Geen's expression sharpened.

Julian leaned back slightly.

"That sounds like a sentence containing several things I should already know."

"Clastinos is an anomalous residue," Antonius said. "Viscous. Unstable. It appears in areas of prolonged spiritual contamination."

"Much better."

"You will collect a sealed sample and return."

Julian waited.

Antonius waited longer.

"That's it?"

"That is the assignment."

"Travel to a town everyone speaks about like it's already dead, find supernatural slime nobody wants to touch, put it in a bottle and come home."

"Correct."

Julian looked around the table.

"Does anyone else find it worrying when my missions become simpler after nearly killing me?"

Geen spoke without looking over.

"You complained when they were complicated."

"I contain multitudes."

Juny raised a hand.

"I can go."

Everyone looked at him.

Juny lowered the hand halfway.

"What? It's just collecting something."

"No," Antonius said.

Juny frowned. "Why not?"

"You have your seminar."

"I would rather touch cursed sludge."

"That does not improve your argument."

Julian looked at his father.

"Why me?"

Antonius's eyes returned to Julian.

"Because Geen is unavailable."

"Juny just volunteered."

"And I refused."

"Which brings us neatly back to why."

Jeane set down her cup.

"Antonius."

Her husband glanced at her.

"He only returned from Fort Giden days ago."

"He attended the Seleniatary yesterday."

"That does not mean he's recovered."

Julian's gaze moved between them.

Antonius's expression remained unreadable.

"The task requires endurance, not exceptional magical output. Julian can travel alone without attracting the attention a full DeRose field unit would."

Reasonable.

Too reasonable.

Julian disliked it immediately.

"And if something happens?"

Antonius looked directly at him.

"Then he handles it."

Silence settled over the table.

Jeane's mouth hardened.

Geen shifted almost imperceptibly.

Juny looked down at his sketchbook.

Julian smiled.

Not because anything was funny.

"Now that sounds more familiar."

Antonius did not react.

"You leave before noon."

"Today?"

"The request is urgent."

"What request?"

"A Council requisition."

"Which branch?"

"Not relevant."

"To whom?"

"Julian."

The warning entered his father's voice.

Julian recognized it.

He also recognized something else.

Antonius was watching him too carefully.

Not like a father deciding whether his son could handle a journey.

Like a man waiting to see which question Julian would ask next.

The thought arrived before Julian could stop it.

He knows something.

Maybe not Zerodawn.

Maybe not the sword.

But something.

Seven days beneath Fort Giden.

No food.

No water.

A body returned without the wounds that should have killed it.

And Antonius had barely asked how.

That had bothered Julian ever since.

Now Aridem.

Clastinos.

A substance produced around spiritual contamination.

Coincidence was becoming difficult to afford.

"Fine," Julian said.

Jeane looked at him.

"You don't have to accept immediately."

Antonius's gaze moved to her.

Julian caught it.

So did she.

"Apparently I do."

Julian stood.

"How much do you need?"

Antonius reached beside his chair and placed a reinforced glass vial on the table.

Two layers.

Metal cap.

Runic seal around the neck.

"Fill it to the marked line. Do not touch the substance directly."

Julian picked it up.

The glass felt unusually cold.

"Anything else?"

"Return alive."

Julian looked at his father.

It could almost have sounded like concern.

Almost.

"That's usually the difficult part."

He turned to leave.

Juny caught his sleeve.

"Julian."

He glanced down.

His younger brother lowered his voice.

"Aridem's weird."

"Insightful."

"I'm serious."

"So is he."

Juny ignored that.

"People disappear there."

Julian looked toward Antonius.

His father had already begun speaking to Geen.

"Apparently everyone forgot to put that in the briefing."

Juny did not smile.

"Just… come back."

The simplicity of it struck harder than Julian expected.

He tapped two fingers against the sketchbook.

"Draw something insulting about Geen while I'm gone."

"I've been working on his nose."

"Excellent."

Geen's voice came from across the table.

"I can hear both of you."

Juny covered the drawing.

Julian finally smiled.

Then he left.

◆ ◆ ◆

His room felt different after the meeting.

It shouldn't have.

Same narrow window.

Same desk.

Same scattered bottles of ink and books stacked with no regard for the architectural concept of shelves.

But Julian had begun to notice shadows.

Not darkness.

Shadows.

There was a difference now.

He placed the Clastinos vial on the desk.

The Makinden letter followed.

For several seconds, both objects sat beside each other.

One belonged to his father.

One to Mirai.

Julian wasn't sure which frightened him more.

"Open it."

Zerodawn was sitting on his windowsill.

Julian did not startle.

He was getting better at that.

"Which one?"

Her blood-red eyes moved toward the letter.

"The one that hurts."

"Helpful."

Zerodawn looked more solid than she had the previous night.

Her long black hair spilled around pale shoulders and down the side of a dress that seemed to exist somewhere between fabric and shadow. Black lace traced deep crimson beneath it. The clothing looked aristocratic until one noticed how deliberately it mocked aristocratic modesty.

She crossed one leg over the other.

"The bottle merely wants your blood. The letter wants your honesty."

Julian stopped packing.

"What did you say?"

She smiled.

"The letter—"

"The bottle."

Zerodawn's expression changed by half a degree.

That was enough.

Julian picked up the vial.

"What does Clastinos do around blood?"

"Most blood? Very little."

"And mine?"

"Interesting question."

"Zero."

Her smile widened at the shortened name.

"You've started calling me that already."

"Answer."

Zerodawn slid down from the windowsill.

Barely a sound accompanied her feet touching the floor.

"Clastinos is residue left when certain things press too heavily against this world. Memory. despair. corruption. dream. Depends on what made it."

She approached the desk and bent close to the vial.

"It notices contamination."

Julian's jaw tightened.

"Contamination."

"A rude word. Accurate enough for humans."

He looked at her.

"Would it react to the pact?"

"Possibly."

"Possibly?"

"I have not personally conducted laboratory experiments on your blood, Darling."

"So Antonius sends me to collect something that may react to whatever happened at Fort Giden."

Zerodawn's eyes gleamed.

"Now he's learning."

Julian gripped the vial harder.

"He knows."

"Perhaps."

That answer frustrated him more.

"You said they knew."

"They know you came back wrong."

"Different."

"Humans prefer gentler words for things that frighten them."

Julian turned.

"If he wanted proof, this is a test."

"Maybe."

"Stop saying maybe."

"Then stop asking questions whose answers neither of us possesses."

That silenced him.

Zerodawn stepped closer.

For once, the amusement left her face.

"Your father notices things. He also hides things. Those are not the same as understanding them."

Julian looked toward the door.

"If Clastinos reacts—"

"Do not bleed on it."

"Excellent plan. I never bleed anywhere."

"Then try something new."

He glared.

Zerodawn smiled again.

There she was.

Julian returned to packing.

Dagger.

Bandages.

Food.

Water.

Three potions.

A change of shirt.

The reinforced vial.

He reached for the Makinden letter.

Stopped.

Zerodawn watched him.

Julian tucked it into the inner compartment of his travel bag.

"Later."

"Of course."

"Don't."

"I said nothing."

"Your face did."

"What an intelligent face."

He closed the bag.

Zerodawn drifted behind him.

"Aridem is lovely this time of year."

Julian paused.

"You've been there."

"Many times."

"Why?"

She gave him an almost tender smile.

"Aridem attracts things that wish to be forgotten."

Something about the answer made the room colder.

Julian slung the bag over one shoulder.

"And we're going there voluntarily."

"We?"

He looked at her.

Zerodawn showed her fangs.

"Darling."

The shadow beneath Julian's boots bent toward hers.

"Where you go, I go."

◆ ◆ ◆

The road to Aridem changed as the land approached the coast.

Ostium's fields and managed estates gradually gave way to rougher ground. Trees grew twisted by constant wind. Soil darkened. The air acquired a trace of salt long before Julian could see water.

His cart rattled along an increasingly neglected road.

The horse disliked it.

Julian couldn't blame her.

Clouds had gathered by midafternoon, flattening the world into dull gray. Small roadside shrines appeared every few miles—stone boxes, rusted charms, old wax hardened beneath images whose faces had been scratched away.

Zerodawn occupied the rear bench.

She had not climbed into the cart.

One moment Julian had been alone.

The next she was there, swinging one boot lazily above the wheel.

"Does anyone else see you?"

"Sometimes."

Julian looked over his shoulder.

"That's not an answer."

"It is. You simply dislike flexible truths."

He turned back toward the road.

"Fehrir heard you."

"Mm."

"Can she see you?"

"No."

"Could Lysara?"

Zerodawn became very still.

Julian noticed.

"Who?"

He looked back again.

"You said the name in my head on the way here."

"I did not."

"You absolutely did."

Zerodawn's expression brightened.

"How interesting."

"You're terrible at pretending."

"Perhaps I wanted you to ask."

"Who is Lysara?"

"Someone who sells alcohol."

"That's all?"

"Nobody is only one thing."

A fallen road marker emerged through the mist.

ARIDEM — 8 MILES

Below the carved letters, someone had scratched a warning.

The words had been gouged too deeply to read.

Zerodawn leaned forward between the seats.

"Do you smell it?"

Julian did.

Salt.

Wet earth.

And something faintly burned.

Not wood.

Something sweeter.

Worse.

His stomach tightened.

"What is that?"

"Ash."

"There's no smoke."

"I know."

The horse began moving faster without encouragement.

Julian let her.

◆ ◆ ◆

Aridem was not abandoned.

That would have been easier.

Abandoned places could be mourned.

Aridem was alive enough to suffer.

Houses lined narrow streets descending toward a coast hidden behind fog. Most windows had shutters closed despite the afternoon hour. Salt had eaten through metal hinges, signs and railings. Nets hung drying outside some buildings, but Julian saw almost no fishermen.

People moved when they needed to.

Quickly.

Eyes down.

A woman carrying bread crossed the street and disappeared indoors the moment Julian's cart approached.

Two children stopped playing beside a drainage channel. Their mother called them inside before Julian passed.

No one waved.

No one asked what a DeRose carriage was doing there.

That was worse.

Zerodawn stood in the road after the cart stopped.

Julian stared.

"You were sitting behind me."

"I grew bored."

He looked back at the cart.

Nothing.

Then at her.

"Show-off."

"Correct."

Julian left the horse inside the stable of what appeared to be the only functioning inn.

Across the street, a sign swung from two rusted chains.

A carved bird with no eyes.

THE BLIND HARPY

"Subtle," Julian muttered.

Zerodawn's mouth curved.

"I've always liked it."

Julian stopped.

She had already walked through the door.

"Of course you have."

◆ ◆ ◆

Warmth hit first.

Then smoke.

Then the smell of wine strong enough to clean surgical instruments.

The Blind Harpy was larger inside than its exterior suggested, though age had won several battles against the furniture. Tables had been repaired repeatedly. Floorboards bore burns and knife marks. A fire struggled inside a broad stone hearth.

Six customers occupied the room.

None looked at Julian for long.

At the bar stood a woman polishing a glass.

Red hair fell thick over her shoulders, copper where the firelight touched it. Freckles crossed a pale face, and her green eyes were vivid enough to remain noticeable even in the dim room. Her dress mixed dark green, black and old gold, fitted in ways that suggested she had never once confused modesty with professionalism.

She looked warm.

Beautiful.

Inviting.

Julian distrusted her immediately.

Zerodawn leaned against the bar beside her.

The red-haired woman continued polishing.

But her eyes flicked sideways.

Just once.

Toward Zerodawn.

Julian noticed.

The movement was so small he almost convinced himself he had imagined it.

Then she looked at him.

"Drink?"

Julian approached.

"Information."

"More expensive."

"Naturally."

She placed the glass down.

"How expensive?"

"Depends how stupid the question is."

Julian rested three silver coins on the bar.

"Name."

The woman looked at the coins.

Then at him.

One eyebrow rose.

"That's not usually how gentlemen introduce themselves."

"I'm not usually accused of being one."

"Fair."

She swept the coins into her palm.

"Lysara Vey."

Zerodawn's smile became almost imperceptibly wider.

Julian looked from one woman to the other.

Lysara's gaze stayed on him.

"And you are Julian DeRose."

His hand went automatically toward his dagger.

Several patrons remained entirely uninterested.

Apparently weapons at throats were not uncommon enough in Aridem to justify interrupting a drink.

"How do you know my name?"

Lysara looked at his coat.

"House crest."

"That gives you DeRose."

She studied his face.

"You have Antonius's jaw and none of his patience."

Julian's hand stopped.

"You know my father."

"Unfortunately."

Zerodawn laughed.

Lysara's eyes flicked sideways again.

Julian saw it clearly this time.

He turned toward Zerodawn.

She was inspecting her fingernails.

Interesting.

Lysara reached beneath the bar and produced a narrow blue bottle.

She poured a cloudy drink into a glass.

"Swamp Tear."

Julian did not touch it.

"What does it do?"

"Half a glass makes bad memories tolerable."

"Whole?"

"Creates new bad memories."

"I'll pass."

"Wise. Rare around here."

Julian placed the reinforced vial on the bar.

"I need Clastinos."

Lysara's expression changed.

Not fear.

Attention.

She tapped one fingernail against the glass.

"Fresh?"

"Fresh."

"Antonius sent his defective son to Aridem for fresh Clastinos."

Julian's jaw tightened.

Zerodawn looked delighted.

Lysara noticed.

"Sensitive?"

"Selective."

"Same thing with better clothing."

Julian leaned closer.

"Where is it?"

Lysara sighed.

"You are the fifth person this week to ask."

"My father sent four others?"

She laughed genuinely.

"Oh, mon chéri. Don't flatter Antonius. People besides your family are capable of making bad decisions."

She began counting on her fingers.

"One wore Paladin gold beneath his coat. One smelled like Council ink. One claimed to be an alchemist. Terrible liar. The fourth never gave me a name."

"What happened to them?"

"Two left."

"And the others?"

Lysara picked up the glass again.

"Aridem kept them."

Julian stared.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning if you require every warning explained, warnings won't save you."

Silence settled between them.

Then Julian asked:

"What produces it?"

Lysara stopped polishing.

Zerodawn straightened.

There.

That was the real question.

"Clastinos isn't simply produced," Lysara said. "It accumulates where something presses too hard against the world. Fear. Memory. despair. Dreams that refuse to remain dreams."

She set the glass aside.

"Here, it comes from one source more than the others."

"The Demon of Ashes."

Julian had never heard the name before.

It still felt familiar.

Zerodawn spoke beside him.

"My melodramatic little relative."

Julian turned.

"Relative?"

Lysara's eyebrows rose.

He realized too late that the question had escaped aloud.

"Interesting," she said.

Julian ignored her.

Zerodawn smiled.

"Human words are imprecise. Brother. cousin. kin. Servant of the same old nightmare. Pick whichever helps you sleep."

Lysara leaned over the counter.

"Talking to someone?"

"No."

"Of course."

Julian looked at her.

She smiled pleasantly.

He hated this tavern.

"The Demon of Ashes," Lysara continued, "is an Architect of Sleep. It doesn't simply kill people. Killing wastes material."

"What does it do?"

"Removes."

"Removes what?"

"Depends what you value."

Her voice became quieter.

"A face. A name. A childhood. The reason you loved someone. Eventually you become a person carrying an empty room where a life used to be."

Julian's fingers tightened against the bar.

Lysara pointed toward the reinforced vial.

"Clastinos is what remains when enough of that suffering takes physical form."

The explanation made the glass suddenly unpleasant to look at.

"And people collect it."

"They collect anything dangerous enough to be useful."

"What is it useful for?"

"Alchemists dilute it for memory work. Some seers use processed forms to loosen perception. A few idiots believe it amplifies spiritual output."

"Does it?"

"Sometimes."

"And sometimes?"

"They become part of the sample."

Julian looked toward Zerodawn.

She was watching Lysara now.

No mockery.

No smile.

Recognition, perhaps.

Or caution.

Julian filed that away.

"Where?"

Lysara held out her hand.

"One gold."

"You've already been paid."

"For my name."

"Three silver for a name?"

"It's a very nice name."

Zerodawn nodded solemnly.

"She has a point."

Julian muttered something obscene and placed one gold coin on the counter.

Lysara made it disappear.

"Cemetery at the northern edge of town. Follow the old road until the stone wall. There's a well near the center."

"The Clastinos."

"Yes."

She held out her hand again.

Julian stared.

"No."

"This part is free."

"Miracles happen."

Lysara's smile disappeared.

"Don't drink anything you find there. Don't eat anything. Don't answer voices that sound familiar."

Julian's expression tightened.

"And if the Demon appears?"

"Leave."

"He's an Executor."

"Then execute the ancient nightmare that eats memories. Why didn't I think of that?"

Julian exhaled.

Lysara moved closer.

"Listen to me."

For the first time, she sounded completely serious.

"If it offers you what you want most, it isn't offering. It's looking for the shape of the hole."

Julian said nothing.

Mirai came to mind.

Power.

Antonius looking at him differently.

Geen losing that effortless superiority.

The answer was less simple than it should have been.

Lysara watched all of that happen behind his face.

"Good," she said.

"What?"

"You don't know."

"That's good?"

"People who know exactly what they want are easier to trap."

She slid the untouched blue drink away.

"Good luck, Julian DeRose."

He turned toward the door.

Behind him, Lysara added:

"And if you survive..."

Julian looked back.

Her green eyes were on Zerodawn.

Not him.

"...bring your shadow inside next time instead of leaving her leaning on my furniture."

Julian froze.

Zerodawn's smile vanished.

Lysara picked up another glass.

"What?"

Julian stared at her.

She stared back innocently.

Then she winked.

He left.

◆ ◆ ◆

"What the fuck was that?"

The Blind Harpy door swung shut behind him.

Zerodawn walked beside him through the damp street as though nothing unusual had happened.

"What?"

"She saw you."

"Perhaps."

"Zero."

"Maybe she saw you looking toward an empty stool and made an educated guess."

"She called you her."

"Language is an imprecise art."

"You know her."

Zerodawn stopped.

The fog moved through the road behind her.

For an instant, her expression belonged to someone much older than the woman Julian knew.

"I know many people."

"Who is she?"

"A bartender."

"Liar."

A small smile returned.

"Good."

Julian stared.

"Good what?"

"You noticed."

She continued walking.

Julian followed because apparently that had become the structure of his life.

The farther they moved from the central street, the quieter Aridem became.

The coastal wind brought moisture over the rooftops. Mud replaced stone. Several houses stood completely abandoned, doors nailed shut with old boards.

Then the smell returned.

Wet charcoal.

Burned flesh.

Rain striking embers.

Julian slowed.

Zerodawn did not.

"We're close."

The cemetery wall emerged through the fog.

Old iron gates stood open.

Not broken.

Open.

As if someone had been expected.

"No."

Julian looked at Zerodawn.

She smiled.

"The tavern woman said not to come at night."

"The tavern woman enjoys suspense."

"You told me this was dangerous."

"It is."

"And this amuses you."

"Also yes."

Julian drew his dagger.

Zerodawn looked at it.

"Adorable."

"It's killed things."

"So have spoons."

He ignored her.

Beyond the gate, crooked gravestones leaned from saturated earth. Dead trees clawed upward beneath a moon hidden by cloud.

At the center stood an ancient stone well.

Something black overflowed its rim.

Thick.

Viscous.

Almost liquid, except liquid should not have pulsed.

A faint blue sheen moved across its surface.

Clastinos.

Julian reached for the reinforced vial.

Then stopped.

Something moved beyond the well.

Tall.

Too thin.

The shape seemed clothed in torn robes until Julian realized the robes were smoke. Ash constantly peeled from its body and vanished before touching the ground.

Its arms reached almost to its knees.

Black claws curved from hands that possessed too many joints.

Where a face should have been, darkness spiraled inward around two faint points of blue light.

The Demon of Ashes stopped circling the well.

Its head turned.

Directly toward Julian.

The sound did not enter through his ears.

It opened inside his mind.

Julian.

His breath stopped.

Finally.

The cemetery disappeared.

For one horrifying second, Julian could not remember the color of Mirai's eyes.

Then he could not remember why that terrified him.

The Demon opened its arms.

Come.

Something inside Julian's memories began tearing.

Forget.