Annika’s night continued …
Giving the vial a shake, Annika frowned at the powdery substance and gave an experimental sniff.
“This is … odd. It smells like a drug that I know … but I think it’s cut with something else.”
Clara nodded while pretending to lounge against a pillar. The cook still hadn’t emerged from the room with the woman Annika had learned was called Elizabeth Nonata. The viscountess had gathered the name from one of the other girls while pretending to inquire where her “master” might be able to submit a donation to the house. She of course had been pretending to be the page boy for a merchant, and fortunately most of the occupants of the room were too inebriated to be suspicious.
Thus far her disguise was going over quite well, though she had a few choice words that she kept to herself when some of the other patrons began suggesting that “the small errand boy” should join them in their evening activities.
“What is the drug you know of?” Clara asked, bringing Annika’s attention back to the task at hand.
“It’s called kava. More or less makes the taker experience heightened sensitivity to light and euphoria mixed with relaxation. Could make someone be pretty trusting. If it were cut with perhaps something that would make the mind a little foggy, it’d be quite the deadly combination.”
Clara nodded, when her blue eyes suddenly became fixed on the balcony above.
“Fin and Mage Lee are coming out now. They look fine.”
Annika let out a sigh of relief. Finally, she could get him home, put him to bed, and come the morning, give him her scathing reprimand.
As she watched Fin draw closer to the stairs, her mind began to turn to a question that she hadn’t had much time to dwell on.
What exactly is the king having him do? Earlier he was looking at those two men … I wonder if this has anything to do with witches. Or perhaps the Troivackians … but no. I’m investigating the origins of the Troivackians involved in the carriage attack, His Majesty wouldn’t send someone as inexperienced as Fin into the city to look for the same people …
The tall redhead touched down onto the main floor and began to cross around the perimeter of the room, when he suddenly stopped. He was talking to someone …
The crowd started growing quieter and quieter, setting Annika’s already frazzled nerves even further on edge.
“Well, why is it your wife’s fault for not showing affection the way you’d like her to? She loves you, doesn’t she?” Fin asked innocently, his voice carrying throughout the room, which was fortunate for the curious patrons wanting to hear about the captivating drama unfolding before them.
Why does he sound like he is mimicking a woman’s voice? Annika wondered with growing dread.
“But … but why doesn’t she rush out to greet me when I come home?! I’m gone at sea for months sometimes!”
“Would you rather her angry with you for always being gone? Does she not get you a bath and have a warm supper prepared immediately?”
“… I know. But … but …”
“Have you tried telling her this?”
“Well, I don’t want to seem … everyone will laugh … I’m a man!”
“Alright, listen here, silly goose, there’s nothing wrong with telling someone how you like being treated! Especially your wife! You there, yes, you sexy biscuit, do you tell your wife when you feel something is lacking?”
Annika turned to Clara, her face stony.
“Summon my knights. I’ll stay here until they arrive.” Annika’s words were choked.
Fortunately, Clara didn’t hesitate in springing to action. She darted around the crowd that was rapidly growing more and more enthralled with the dramatic scene playing out for them, and she slipped out the door without anyone noticing.
All Annika could do was wait. Wait and hope to the Gods she didn’t have to do something even more drastic to save his drugged-up arse. As she bided her time, she couldn’t help but repeat to herself over and over what had quickly become her mantra since growing closer with Fin.
Man of my dreams … man that I love … don’t get yourself killed so quickly.
Present day …
Fin strolled along the sunny street with nausea wrangling his stomach thanks to the remnants of the drugs he’d been fed.
He and Annika had yet to have their full discussion about work, as a messenger from the king had come for her shortly after she had calmed down. Fin had quickly made himself scarce, and after a hasty promise to avoid trouble for at least a day, the two had parted for their separate schedules.
Sighing heavily, the redhead decided to avoid Madam Mathilda’s side of town, and instead try farther north in the city. He’d investigate closer to the castle to see if there were any abandoned buildings that could offer a good viewpoint to a group of enemies.
The walk uphill was normally something Fin found relatively easy after growing up on Quildon with its steep rolling slopes, but under the hot summer sun, and still feeling ill from the previous night, it felt as though he were treading water with weights shackled around his ankles.
He had just reached the end of a shadowed alley that exited onto a road that ran parallel to the main road of Austice, when he slumped against the wall of the nearest building. Taking a moment to bask in the feeling of the cool stone he could feel through his tunic, he closed his eyes and braced himself for the unforgiving heat he would once again step into on the next sunny street.
Fin opened his eyes again wearily and turned his head to his right; at least his trek back down the hill would put the sun to his back. He had just straightened himself out when he noticed a woman staring at him. Her long straight hair was pure snowy white, and yet she couldn’t have been older than his mother. Her blue eyes were such a pale shade that they almost appeared colorless, which somehow made her eerie despite standing in a bright street with people surrounding her.
Yes, she looked like a snowdrop in the middle of summer, but her striking looks weren’t what bothered Fin …
It was the way she was looking at him with open dread, fear, and perhaps a hint of sickness.
He had never been looked at in such a way, and Fin felt himself hesitate before momentarily looking around to see if she was perhaps staring at someone else. Everyone that passed by him, however, were moving targets, and she was quite fixed in her focus. He shoved his hands into his pockets and pushed away from the wall, fully aware that there was no mistaking who her attention was on.
Swallowing with some difficulty, Fin stepped back into the heat, and gave the woman a wide berth. He didn’t know why her expression disturbed him so much, but it was twisting his stomach into knots.
Unconsciously, the redhead hunched his shoulders and strode by her with mounting apprehension.
“Gods … are you … Katelyn’s boy? Finlay?” Her voice was breathy and weak.
Turning swiftly, the witch stared apprehensively, and he was once again alarmed when the woman cringed away from him.
“Please … please don’t look at me like that. You look too much like him.”
It was as though Fin had been dunked in an icy bath when he realized that this woman was talking about none other than Aidan Helmer. His father.
“I’m nothing like that man. Whatever he did to you, I am sincerely sorry.” Fin’s hands were clenched in his pockets as he felt the growing urge to vomit.
“Oh, I … I am so sorry. I … that was a terrible thing to say. Please, I-I am a friend of your mother’s. My name is Sky. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” The woman took two tentative steps forward as though still uncertain of whether or not he would attack her.
Fin blinked several times, his mind blank.
“We were close friends years before you were born; in fact … I’m an … an air w-wit—”
The speed with which the redhead stepped forward to stop the woman from saying anything more in the bustling street caused her to squeak, her eyes growing wide.
“Might we have a talk somewhere more private?” Fin breathed hastily, his tone apologetic.
The strange woman named Sky stared up at him, appearing every bit as terrified as a field mouse.
That is, until she gazed into his eyes.
Visibly relaxing, but still a little dazed, she nodded.
“My house is just down the road, why don’t you step in for a cup of water?”
Fin bobbed his head slowly and indicated she should lead the way.
As they walked, he still couldn’t shake the hesitation he felt at the sudden encounter. Then again, he had not faced a witch while being powerless in many years.
Sky’s house was one that simultaneously blended into the street, and yet stuck out with its odd circular doorway painted a rich green with a bold brass knocker in its center. The inside was equally contradictory with one half of the main sunny room being sparse with a lone potted tree in the corner and hand-sewn pillows resting in front of the fireplace, while the other half was cluttered with jars of herbs and tinctures that Fin was all too familiar with seeing.
“I thought you were an air witch,” he observed when he noted the fresh cut flowers and drying herbs.
“I am,” she replied shortly as she crossed over to one of the pillows on the floor and seated herself.
Slowly, Fin moved to join her while waiting to see if she would explain the two very different styles of the room that indicated an earth witch also lived there.
“I take it you are one of those people who prefer not to be open about having witches as acquaintances?” Sky asked, her eyes gazing outside the house instead of at her guest.
Fin grew more wary as the woman revealed how very little of him she seemed to know.
“You said you were friends with my mother?” He changed the topic, hoping to glean more about her.
“Ah yes … yes. Before she chose to marry your … your father.”
The clenching in Fin’s stomach made him hesitate in his next question.
“You seem scared of me. I hope you can understand that I am not like Aidan.” The somber note in Fin’s voice finally made Sky turn her attention to him, though the silence in the room somehow made this even more unsettling.
“You look like him in nearly every way, but … your eyes. I believe those are like your grandfather’s.”
Fin’s eyebrows shot upward. He had heard little of his mother’s life before her marriage to his father. Mostly because she was always preoccupied with patients, or schooling …
“What were my grandparents like?”
“Strict. Serious. A little cold … your grandmother was an air witch, your grandfather a water witch. Your two aunts took after them. I believe I—”
“I have aunts?!”
His outburst made Sky blink rapidly and straighten her posture. “Your mother never told you? Well, I suppose she was never really on good terms with them … still. It is surprising.”
Fin tried to process the information he had just received but found it difficult to comprehend. Just as he opened his mouth to ask another question, the front door burst open.
“Alright, Sky, don’t for a second think I’m going to forgive you if the reason you forgot to meet us at the market was to stare at a flock of seagulls again. I don’t care if you think you might be blood related somehow, I’ve told you that—” The woman who had appeared was clad in a brown skirt and a deep green tunic with a mustard yellow handkerchief tucked in a black leather belt around her waist. Her dark hair puffed away from her scalp in an impressive Afro, and her ebony skin looked warm to the touch.
She carried with her two satchels overflowing with vegetables that looked to be quite heavy as she plunked them down on the worn kitchen table. Turning with a swirl of her skirts, her burst of movement stilled immediately when she laid eyes on Fin.
“Oh. Hello.”
As the woman turned to stare quizzically at Sky, the obvious question shouldn’t have needed to be asked. Yet the air witch’s response was to smile dreamily at the woman, who took matters into her own hands, clearly familiar with the scenario.
“I’m Adamma, and you are?”
“Fin. Nice to meet you.”
Adamma was about to say more, when in burst two more people carrying sacks of flour, both sweating profusely.
“Aunt Adamma, remind me again why you can’t carry one of these?!” The first to speak was a young man who looked similar to the woman named Adamma, only his hair was cropped short to his head, and his skin appeared to be a few shades lighter.
“Because I’m your elder and you are living in my house for free,” she reminded him while placing her hands on her hips.
“Then why do we have to buy flour in the middle of the day when it is the absolute bloody hottest time?” It was a young woman who had spoken. Fin was guessing the young man to be her brother given the particular shade of skin tone they shared, but where she differed was her wild wavy black hair, and a sullen expression. A young woman not yet in her twenties … a fearsome age indeed.
“Because when I tried to wake you both earlier this morning, you each had creative threats for me.” The woman named Adamma reached out and gave a stern yet gentle pinch to the girl’s cheek. An action that was not well received.
It was then the two youngsters noticed Fin, making them both freeze. Despite the skeptical looks given between him and Sky, the air witch still seemed set on watching Adamma wistfully, completely oblivious to the awkward tension.
“Children, this here is Fin. Say hello, and let’s try and get Sky to tell us why he is in our house,” Adamma remarked briskly, taking the situation in hand.
Finally snapping out of her reverie, the air witch stood and strode over to Adamma’s side.
“This here is Finlay Ashowan. Kate’s son,” Sky explained with a sweep of her arm.
“Wait, Finlay Ashowan, the Royal Cook?” Adamma’s surprised but excited smile was so dazzling that even Fin found himself caught off guard. He was surprised that even the younger siblings reacted to the news as well.
“Really?!”
“The house witch?!”
Fin blinked in confusion. The children seemed to know more about him than his mother’s friend. He stood awkwardly and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants in anticipation.
Noticing his confusion, Adamma stepped forward and shook his hand.
“Don’t mind us, we’ve just heard a thing or two from my brother, their father. I believe you’ve worked a bit with him. His name is Kasim. Kasim Jelani.”