The Fifth City by Liz Delton Page B

bloody wounds.
    There were no bite or claw marks; these looked like they were from a knife.  Though she was no Healer, none of the wounds looked deep enough to kill, but there were a fair amount of them, so it was no wonder he had collapsed here alone.
    “I must be dead,” she heard suddenly from the leaves.
    They rustled, and Falcon lifted his head.
    She raised an eyebrow at him.
    “Why do you say that?”
    He winced, bringing a hand to his ribs.
    “Because you’re here.  In the wilds,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly.
    Neve remained silent.
    I knew I should have left him , she thought, too late.
    “I just don’t get—” he took a sharp breath, “why it hurts so much.”
    She rolled her eyes, trying not to let her heart soften.
    “You’re not dead,” she spat.  “Who beat you like this?  The men from Seascape, or your Scout friends?”
    Confusion rolled over Falcon’s bruised face, and then his eyes flicked to the knife in her hand.
    “My….friends,” he said, taking Neve aback.  “How do you know about—”
    “The fifth city?” Neve said, watching the shock flicker across his face.  “A funny tale, you might say,” and she rushed into it, wanting to rent all of her frustration and anger of the past week out on him.
    “I happened to overhear the Scouts in the Broken Bellows the other night, boasting about a trip they were making; and they mentioned what an inconvenience the fight in Meadowcity had been, and something about boats being made in Riftcity.”
    “I thought it strange,” she continued, her voice rising with every word, “and went for a walk through the streets.  Who do I come across but a Rider from Meadowcity, climbing over the wall, trying to sneak into our city; because they knew it was on lock down by order of Governor Greyling, who, seems to be waging a war behind our backs and inside our cities!”
    Falcon’s face wouldn’t have looked so pathetic had it not been swollen with bruises, but he looked at Neve with something like remorse.
    She turned away.  She wanted to stay mad at him.
    “I couldn’t tell you,” he whispered.
    Neve stormed off a few paces, wondering again why she hadn’t just left him here.  She should just walk away now, go to Meadowcity, and leave him here to rot.
    She could hear him moving around, and the leaves rustled with his motions as he tried to get up.  She turned back to see him trying to examine the many cuts on his abdomen, and narrowed her eyes.  He winced as he pulled the fabric of his shirt away from one of the wounds.
    “The Scouts did that to you?” she questioned.
    He nodded slowly, and looked around at the surrounding area, perhaps for his pack, or weapons.  There was nothing.
    Then, a terribly sad look crossed his bruised face.
    “They killed Meera,” he said.
    Neve paused, still wanting to yell, to scream at him; but she knew how close he had been with his mountain lion.  She had never met the beast—the Scouts didn’t bring them around the city—but he had told her all about how he had trained the lion, and how she would hunt for him when they went scouting, and guard him while he slept.
    “Why?”
    “They disagreed with me—I guess you know the lot of it, why we were going to Seascape?”
    She nodded, crossing her arms over her middle.
    “Well, after the—beach—” he shut his eyes, and Neve, too, cringed at the memory of the pain.  “We woke up last night in the dark.  Somebody had taken us from the ledge and dumped us in the forest.  Once we woke up, we headed north to report back to Skycity, but everybody and the captain was ripping mad, threatening what we should do to them for hurting us like that.  And then we found Goram’s wolf, Wing, dead.  So they were all for going back to Seascape and finding another way to swim over and give them a piece of their mind.”
    “I thought I could try and calm them down about it, get them to report back first at least; but Jossen took it as threat, and