Shadow Touched (Editing)

11. FINCH

I arrived in Onhama the morning after my conversation with Grey. It's usually a two-to-three-day ride to the central province. Still, we cut through Aspus—the province formerly controlled by Lord Solditch, now a virtual ghost town.

Riding through the night, we stuck to the Messenger's Path. Stopping for not even a moment. Fortunately, my boy Aiolos is accustomed to long journeys and doesn't spook easily.

For years now, Aspus has been hostile land. Lord Solditch ruled the province as his own little fiefdom. The people were less a populace than a militia.

After Solditch murdered Naima's father, King Vincent sent the newly minted General Welland with a battalion to march on Aspus. It was to little fanfare. Solditch was nowhere to be found. He and the rest of the populace disappeared, leaving nothing but empty homes, some with fires still burning and clothes in the wardrobe. It was unnerving.

Solditch Keep—a three-hundred-year-old castle fortified with allure, the magic of the gods—was locked. An impenetrable forcefield strong enough to rival Fridigate's famed Umbra Claustra kept the greatest army in the Six Realms from storming the building.

And yet—five years later, riding through the province, I feel a change in the wind. The smell of rotting carrion left by Skavingers no longer fills the air. Instead, the sweet smell of burning wood that comes when summer turns to fall follows us as we ride.

It's cold. Almost oppressively so. Odd, since winter is still a few months off. Dark clouds fill the sky. Crackles of lightning rip through the air, streaking it with brilliant flashes of silvery fire. Memories of a similar night from five years earlier swirled in my head, only to be interrupted when the distinctive call of Skavingers tore through the night, pulling me back to the present.

I pushed Aiolos forward, encouraging him to pick up his speed, not wanting to give the creatures time to consider our position as lone rider and beast.

~*~

Usually, I ride one of the palace steeds for everyday work, but since time was of the essence, I knew my old boy was the one for the job. I've had the horse for years, a family gift for my 18th birthday. A dappled thoroughbred, his white hide is covered in a beautiful smattering of black. The spots ebb and flow across his frame, darker in some areas. They look like tiny stars. He's fast, too, and loves to run.

Once out of Aspus and its uncomfortable cold, it takes no time for us to make it to Onhama. Together, Aiolos and I rode the wind for the final hours of our journey. For a time, I was able to forget my responsibilities.

Until I saw her.

Naima and her crew of heathens tend to move around. I suppose staying in one place too long isn't good for business when your business is crime and theft. I had it on good authority that she's been hanging around Onhama for a while now. Apparently, she's the new favourite of some old, fat warlord wannabe named Habib.

Tracking her was easier than I think she knows. It's hard for Naima to blend into a crowd. I doubt she ever really wants to, but the fact is—and it pains me greatly to acknowledge this—she's beautiful. Not in that way of gentle ladies.

No, Naima is beautiful in a fearsome way, like a Goddess of Vengeance. Her light brown skin is luminescent, like a pearl. Her hair, which she now keeps long, falls down her back in perfectly tight spirals. And her eyes. They are the silver-grey of turmoil, startling like a lightning storm. They're big, round, and expressive. They pull you in, and you can drown in them like Grey if you're not careful.

I booked myself into a local rooming house in the city centre. It was cheap and indiscriminate but provided a warm bed and hot meal.

It sits directly across from a large building called the Seven Belles. The name alone is enough to tell me exactly what kind of establishment it is. The constant stream of men coming and going further confirms it. I can't believe my luck. If there's one thing I know about Lady Naima, it's that she enjoys various pursuits of pleasure. A brothel, which, if it's any good, will consist of sex, drink and gambling—it's pretty much her idea of paradise.