Chapter 4
J A N E
M y jaw drops from blinding uncertainty. “What the fuck.”
“Of course ,” Soren growls.
It’s… him .
My father’s face.
Familial roots, miserable feelings of abandonment, and over a decade of loneliness collide into a wreckage. My breath is utterly robbed from me as I take in how the Scorpion is dressed unpretentiously in black pants with a messy gray tunic tucked into it. A long black leather coat shrouds him, one with tattered edges.
He’s so simple, yet sharp, in appearance.
I have spent many nights envisioning a reunion, about how we might embrace. How I yearned to hear him validate everything that happened, to tell me it will be okay.Those expectations, however, leave my heart as if they never existed; I can’t read his face, or make sense of the eyes that roam over me.
Distant .
He doesn’t even take me in for long before sliding his mahogany gaze to Soren. “That’s a careless injury,” my father cooly remarks.
Bumps rise all over my skin as I exhale—it’s his voice. He even drawls out his last word like he does in my memories. Crow’s feet frame his dark eyes as a slight, inky smudge darkens the surrounding skin. His heavy eyebrows— that hasn’t changed—are furrowed, his cheeks slightly gaunter, accentuating a thinner nose, a commanding, matured appearance.
The smallest, involuntary sound squeezes from my throat when I register how his face has aged in ways that indicate we missed out on years .
My dad is actually here.
Alive.
“What do you want?” Soren asks, unmoving.
“My daughter.”
There it is—acknowledgment.
It’s almost painful how long that hangs in the air, as if I’m waiting for something more profound to occur. Bafflement changes into frustration as that’s all it remains, an acknowledgment . “Um… who exactly are you? You need to explain what happened with you looking like Ern a few moments ago.”
The words sound just as bizarre as thinking them.
I glance at Soren almost instantly, feeling as if I may have admitted that I’m going crazy. His skin is balmy and pallid, his under-eyes darkened. All this walking was probably detrimental to him, and yet his gaze burns at my father like he’s only suffered a nick to the skin.
“You’re not losing your mind, Jane,” Soren quietly comforts, maintaining his gaze ahead as if he’s at full strength.
Clenching my fists, I turn to glare at my father in the dim lighting. It still feels like I’m addressing a hallucination, making me feel like someone has removed my entrails and wrung them so tight that I’m completely hollowed.
“I am Charles Ritter, Jane… and Ern.” The Scorpion returns his gaze to mine, the intensity of his furrowed brows loosening, his eyes softening like they used to at Mother.
I shift my weight between each foot, standing in front of a legend that terrifies many just by name alone, yet all I see is a father I don’t recognize. “That makes absolutely no sense,” I say through thin lips, my voice breathless from adrenaline.
“It does if he’s a skin shifter,” Soren comments.
A… no.
No .
I had never considered that.
We heard about them growing up, and I honestly forgot they existed after living in Coalfell for so long. They seemed more like a fable that might exist only over the Black Sea, like mentions of a vampire.
I take my father in all the more as he stands there. His hair is wrong… yes, that’s what’s annoying me, too. Mom liked it long, and he’s gone and cut it. My lips part, but I still can’t actually process this. “Are you seriously saying you’re a skin shifter?”
“We have a lot to go over,” the Scorpion gently replies.
Soren snorts behind me. “No shit.”
I prefer his voice over anyone else’s.
The Scorpion looks at Soren over my head, any warmth that might have existed completely washing away. It reminds me that two Zenith occupy the same empty room and are both extremely capable, if not the most capable, at delivering carnage.
“I’ve been watching you,” my dad remarks to Soren, as if I’m not here.
“Bet you have,” Soren mocks, not an ounce of fear present.
“Blackwell knows,” my father states swiftly, his eyes searching the room even as his head remains still, before our gazes connect. “About who you are, Jane. That I’m alive and somewhere in this city. We need to clear that air so you know everything in case this all goes under. I nearly approached you just now, but then I saw Shade in the distance and knew to back off. I have no idea why he acted so carelessly, but perhaps it was for the best if it got you down here.”
My heart twists uncomfortably as this entire moment reminds me of watching someone reunite, only for one side to realize the other hasn’t been thinking about them at all.
It’s not terrible, but… I wanted more. I dreamt of more. I survived Coalfell because I swore to myself I’d get more than this . That we would have a reunion to make it all worth it.
“I need to have questions answered before we discuss anything , even Blackwell,” I say, like he’s an apparition that I only have so much time with.
He closes his eyes as if he’s dreading what comes next before opening them. There’s enough of a pause in his uncertainty that I notice an unfamiliar scar that slices deeply through his cheek, and my gaze lowers to his exposed neckline—new tattoos. On both sides, just barely visible. They’re decorative lines that don’t immediately create an image, and I stop trying to find one.
It just confirms how much he is no longer the man I knew .
The Scorpion finally rises from his seat, nearly matching Soren in height, as he takes a few steps forward while rolling a ring on his finger. “Jane, Ern is me, and has been this entire time, because I am a skin shifter. I always have been.”
“Then how the fuck did I not know?” Soren asks. “I met you at Talon’s Perch.”
Dad motions around us. “As the rubies indicate, Cypress is heavily involved in this orchestration. You met exactly who she wanted you to meet.”
My body twitches as if I’m possessed by tremors. Somewhere behind my consciousness, my mind pieces everything together, and seeing the painting of it for the first time—my father is a skin shifter and declares he was Ern.
“No…” I utter, moving my head around but keeping my furrowed gaze on him. “That doesn’t even make sense. I mean, if that’s true, that means…”
You’ve been in Talon’s Perch this entire time.
“Yes, Jane,” he confirms with a heavy sigh. “ That’s what it means.”
No.
No.
That’s impossible. The twisting of my heart morphs into feeling as if my entrails are sliding out of a deep wound that finally bleeds, like the one that killed my mother.
I can’t…
I replay this man transforming from Ern to my father in my mind’s eye, all the while touching my stomach as if I might actually find a gash there that would explain why it feels like I will collapse at any moment.
But there is no wound. No physical injury to blame for why I feel this way.
He lied to me. To my face. For years.
Even if that concept collides in my mind, not a single one sparks any bit of understanding. “ How? ” is all I manage out, in an annoyingly small voice, like it will give him the chance to take it all back. It’s such a foreign, needy sound that I almost want to carve out my tongue.
“I’ve been there since a little after you arrived, Jane.”
For a moment I stare off into the distance, eyeing a ruby growing out of a wall before turning to Soren, hoping that his knowledge of the world can aid in my understanding.
Soren’s pale gaze lowers to meet mine. I nearly demand him to read my father like an open book until his recent wound catches my eye, the sewn flesh still angry and red. He’s probably ready to sleep for two days straight, and instead, he’s standing here with me. Watching over me.
Looking back at my father, the violence within lifts its claws, cracking from dormancy, yet I make a conscious effort to restrain myself.
For now.
“So,” I state, using the same arid expression and tone as him. “You truly were there, every night, while I thought I was abandoned? Is that actually what you’re telling me?”
His lips thin as if he doesn’t like the accusation. “I was never far, correct.”
“Ah, I see,” I reply, taking a few steps near this man as he stands only a few feet from me now. “And you never reached out?” That seething heat is all the way in my throat as I give him every chance to explain the confusion away.
“No.”
I can’t help it.
I propel myself toward him, unleashing a torrent of blows on his chest. The impact forces the Scorpion to take the smallest step back to brace himself. As I strike my father with my other hand, my wrists ache from slamming so hard.
It’s strange to touch him after so long. It’s even stranger how much it breaks my heart to strike him.
It’s too much. All of it is. The truth that he is alive and has been close the entire time, that he seems annoyed more than happy to see me—this is not the dad I remember.
Glancing up at his face, he doesn’t seem to feel a fucking thing. I pound on his chest again like it’s a wooden door, and I’m trying to get the attention of anyone inside.
“You left me!” I cry out, shoving both hands into his chest, feeling my palms dig into his body. “Now you say you were around this entire time, and even talked to me when Kathleen and I would visit! I needed you! I trusted you! That you would come for me!”
Heat sears my veins, and my cheeks flush as tears flow freely. The next time I hit his chest—without any friction from him—only a visceral sound escapes rather than any words of hurt.
When my imagination gets the best of me and plays a scenario in my head of him sitting at a table, all happy and eating a hot meal at Ern’s Pub while I’m all alone in Coalfell, sleeping in the rented attic space infested with rats that I occupied for years…
My hand is at my hip, sliding out a dagger as I aim right for the heart. Right where he taught me?—
My father tightly grips my wrist as my seething mixes with a shaky exhale. Through tears, I say, “I swear to all the fucking gods, if you have a second family out there and were playing daddy dearest to them while I waited for you, I’ll send them your head myself. Ern would talk about his family ? — ”
“ Jane ,” the Scorpion warns.
I eye the tip of the dagger that’s pointed right at his chest, blood trickling down my knuckles; I must have hit one of the buckles on his leather straps.
“I lied about having a family,” he breathes. “It’s only you. You are my only family.”
I yank my hand back, and he releases me, only for it to be caught by another. The Scorpion’s eyes flare with danger as I realize that Soren is behind me and holding my hand back, prompting space between my father and me.
“My daughter doesn’t need protection from me ,” the Scorpion hisses.
“You’re either not who you say you are, or your mental state has been altered if you think any aspect of you is trustworthy . Jane, of all people, won’t give it so easily.”
My dad’s scoff is bitter and judgmental. “Don’t pretend as if you know her.”
“And stop pretending as if the last decade of her life hasn’t torn her apart.”
The words of recognition stroke against the angry demon in my chest, contradicting the fury that clearly leaches from feelings regarding my father.The tension in my body slightly loosens, my arm sagging even if still firmly gripped.
“And how hard would it be to remove you?” my father asks, nodding to Soren. “You’re only here because of my good graces. Nothing more.”
“Soren goes nowhere ,” I hotly reply, my arm tensing again. “Or you and I will never speak again.”
There’s the smallest flash of emotion in my father’s eyes, but it only exists within the space of a heartbeat, potentially never at all. It’s so unlike him… Silence settles in the room like a thick fog, like a bunch of thieves waiting to see who will stab first, to which Soren eventually releases me but positions his body slightly in front.
This is going so terribly.
No ‘I missed you, Jane. I’m sorry I lied to you for over a decade.’
No embrace.
No sheer relief that we’re finally meeting without the skin suit of another man.
The man I remember would have stood instantly from his chair and held me for as long as I wanted him to.
I think—I think that father is gone .
When there’s enough silence between us for me to accept that fact, I shake my head as the words pour out of me, “Well, if that grand reintroduction is over with, you need to start talking before I lose my shit and find a way to gut you, as I’m doing a lot to keep it together.”
His harsh eyes gentle, the lines of his face momentarily giving way. His sigh is clearly burdened with regret; even I can see that, but he has to earn the luxury of me believing him. “I honestly didn’t know how to come to you, Jane. I still don’t even know how or where to start. I waited here in the Undercroft as Ern, as a place to begin.”
He sucks in air as if he’s about to continue, but nothing more comes out.
“You… you didn’t know how to come to me ?” I raise both hands, slightly leaning over as if it will make the words clearer. “You could have just appeared . And what do you mean starting as Ern? I would have really liked a hug first, or a ‘How are you,’ or a ‘Why are you back in Skull’s Row.’ Not the innkeeper. ”
I glance up at Soren, about to demand him to read my father and strip every emotion bare so I can understand, to break through whatever barrier the Scorpion has in place. But when our eyes connect, I realize he’s devouring me more than my dad.
With whatever finesse I have in situations like these, I try to motion to Soren what I want; I know he can feel that. Instead, he just nods toward my dad as if telling me to keep talking.
Nearly huffing as I look back ahead, I tap my foot and arch a brow. “You’re oddly indifferent. You don’t seem like the man I remember. Honestly, it would have been better if you stayed in the shadows. Then at least the imaginary version of you could have comforted me when I missed you, versus whatever you are now .”
I expected to see him tense or even—if I was lucky—to witness his heartbreak. Instead, he merely smiles, revealing the rather straight teeth of his. It’s a detail that stuck with me for so long when so many pirates from Skull’s Row have teeth ravished from scurvy.
He’s been in good health all this time, it seems…
My father dips his head in a single nod. “Sometimes I liked to think your tenacity was from me, but I think it was from your mother. Or more so her mother. That woman couldn’t be molded into anything. Getting her to like me was one of my greatest feats.” He turns around and walks back to his seat, sighing as he reclaims it. “The trait you got from me is your temper. And since now we’ve had the proper reintroduction, let’s talk about what’s important.” His head slightly lowers while his fervent gaze is on me. “You’re being hunted, Jane. And it’s not by something that any of our men can fight.”
The temper he mentioned is ablaze inside, but there’s a bit of Kathleen’s voice telling me to hear what he just said. Kathleen . Make good choices for her safety, at least. “What does that mean?”
He looks at me almost apologetically. “What I’m going to say will be a lot to take in.”
My tutting laugh echoes as I place my hands on my hip. “Right, don’t want to shock me or anything,” I sarcastically reply. “Get us somewhere to sit, at least. Soren needs it.”
The Scorpion nods to some of the reclaimed barrels.
“Soren needs something more substantial. Get him an actual seat,” I order.
Something about that clearly pisses off my father, and Soren coughs out a chuckle that’s almost enough to distract me before I point to the open space in front of us. “I’m serious. Here. Put something real here.”
The Scorpion begrudgingly complies, his eyes narrowing as he calls out to the empty room, only for someone to appear in the threshold that gets everything moving. Whether his attitude while requesting his men to fetch something is from annoyance at me giving orders or his aversion to aiding Soren, I’m too overwhelmed to care.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoes through the room as things are set up for us. It’s only when a large chair, one matching the Scorpion’s, is brought out and Soren sits in it with an extra flare for drama—as if rubbing it in—that I suspect he’s more so upset to accommodate the other Zenith.
“ Continue ,” I state with clear articulation, still not sitting myself.
Soren inclines his head to my dad, rolling a hand as if he’s Bones and supporting my demand.
The Scorpion’s gaze rakes over the floor like he’s hopeful that the situation will somehow get better. “Alright, let’s resume, then, about being a skin shifter. It’s one of the reasons I’ve gotten to where I’m at. Unless there’s someone like Soren nearby that can sense someone no matter what skin they wear; I can become whoever I want and infiltrate wherever I want.”
“Are you—are you common ?” I dimly ask, still completely dumbfounded.
“I am very rare over here. The reason we hear about it across the Black Sea is because magic exists with more order there. More definition. We—those living in the Balar Coasts and its mainlands—are the bastards of people from over there, breeding with those that live here . The connection to the gods is subsequently weaker.” His gaze holds mine when I’m about to interrupt, “Magic exists here like a broken language that only a handful are fluent in. It’s why sometimes the magic seems to appear randomly, like with me .”
To be completely honest with myself? My mind is absolutely blank. “Did Mom know?”
“Of course,” he replies, almost offended by the question.
When Dad is about to speak again, I throw a hand up to silence him as I face Soren again. “Is any of this true?”
“I want to keep hearing what he has to say,” he answers, still staring intently at my father while leaning his chin into his hand.
Okay, it’s not a clear answer, but we can work together here. I’ll keep the Scorpion talking, then.
“I wanted to tell you so badly, Jane. I wasn’t permitted,” Dad immediately explains with a clipped tone, pulling my attention back to him. “After I got you to Melona, I waited in Skull’s Row with the skin of another man, waiting for the signal that you had made it to Coalfell. Once I received it, I shifted into another that became known as Ern in Talon’s Perch, taking over the tavern, waiting even more… until it became clear I’d have to watch you turn into a woman from afar. I was even present the night the village burned down. As soon as I got word of Coalfell, I left and went through the woods, killing those that I could. You even looked in my direction, once… I hoped you’d come my way… but then you didn’t.” I admit I hear a tremble of emotion breaking through, only for everything to go cold in his expression before he adds, “And then I watched Soren pick you up and carry you off.”
I strain to listen as the words reach my ears, their meaning sinking in, but accepting them is an entirely different, overwhelming task. “You could be lying. It doesn’t make any sense. Why couldn’t you approach me? Let me know it was you ?”
With slight acknowledgment to one of the rubies growing out of the wall, the Scorpion’s knuckles turn white as he calmly states, “Because of a web we’re stuck in that I’m desperate to get you out of.”