WeatherMaker Hearts Desire Prologue

It was midday when the two entered the town the next day. White Feather remained visible, keeping close to Amaia for her safety, thought he kept his wings hidden. It couldn’t be denied that many gave the pair strange looks, their eyes lingering longer on Amaia, making her feel uncomfortable.

‘I don’t like this place’ Amaia whispered under her breath to White Feather as they walked.

‘I know’ White Feather replied quietly. ‘It’s not safe here’ he said glaring suspiciously about him at the people. ‘Stay close to me.’

Amaia reached down to hold White Feather’s arm. White Feather didn’t say anything, but he could feel Amaia’s grip was vice-like. He stopped suddenly and observed his surroundings.

‘What’s wrong?’ Amaia asked him.

‘I’m thinking’ White Feather replied.

‘About what?’ Amaia glanced behind her to a scary looking man, before turning sharply away again.

‘How do we find your father?’ White Feather said aloud. ‘This town…it’s such a large place…when looking for one man.’

‘We should ask around’ Amaia said, and then immediately regretted it. ‘I don’t like this place’ Amaia said again.

White Feather frowned at her thoughtfully.

‘Hey pretty boy!’ called an unfriendly voice.

White Feather glanced around to a rough looking man, aged and scared.

‘You don’t belong around here’ the man shouted, hanging around a corner with his beefy arms folded. ‘I think you should make yourself scare before you get hurt.’

White Feather snapped then, speaking in a harsh voice Amaia had never heard from him before. ‘And who’s going to hurt me? You?’

The man’s attention then drifted towards Amaia with hungry eyes. He didn’t say anything, only smirked.

‘Come on’ White Feather mumbled, putting an arm around Amaia and leading her away.

They wandered back and forth from place to place, White Feather questioning every shop owner, inn keeper, blacksmiths, armourers and anyone else they could find who might know something. Eventually they came to another inn; the both of them at this point were getting tired. They had not yet met a person who knew or had met either Farrell or Arlen, and at this point their spirits were beginning to dampen, but they carried on regardless.

‘Stay here’ White Feather whispered again, and Amaia waited outside as she had done several times before.

White Feather walked boldly into the building, striding up to the bar to speak to the inn keeper.

‘I’m looking for someone’ he said in a robotic voice, repeating the words he had said so many times before. ‘Can you help me?’

‘Depends if you be more specific’ the innkeeper replied in an equally bored tone, not looking up from what he was doing.

‘A man called Farrell’ White Feather said.

‘Never heard of him’ the barman droned on.

’There’s another man I’m looking for also, named Arlen, have you heard of him?’

The barman paused and glanced up suddenly. ‘Yeh’ he said sounding surprised. ‘In fact there were two people in here several days ago fighting, one of them was called Arlen. I remember because the other one was calling out his name, he kept saying how he didn’t want to fight.’

‘Do you know where they went?’ White Feather asked, now suddenly animated. Hope and excitement filled him inside.

‘No’ the innkeeper said, ‘but I know someone who does.’ He turned and called back to the kitchen behind him. ‘Karla!’

A second later, a woman entered through the doorway, she had long hair dyed a bright and artificial red, with heavy makeup around her eyes.

‘Yes?’ she asked curiously.

‘This young man wants to know where Arlen went’ the innkeeper explained.

‘Arlen?’ her eyes lit up at the sound of his name.

‘You know him?’ White Feather asked.

‘He and I were lovers’ Karla explained, ‘but he left me, to find his daughter.’

‘I know where his daughter is’ White Feather said eagerly. ‘Please, you have to tell me where Arlen is so that I may find him.’

‘I will tell you’ Karla nodded.

White Feather felt suddenly a sharp emotion inside him, one coming from Amaia. She was frightened. But he waited just a moment longer to hear the woman speak, before turning on his heel and running out the building.

Outside Amaia waited nervously, anxious for her guardian to return. She kept her head down, sticking close to the wall behind her and trying her best to keep out of sight and remain unnoticed. But it was not enough. A man approached her, one with a predatory gaze. Amaia began to feel uneasy, even more so than before.

‘Strange, to see a woman on her own’ the man remarked. ‘Especially in a place like this, it’s not safe around here for those who cannot protect themselves.’

‘I can protect myself’ Amaia said firmly back, sounding braver than she felt.

‘Is that right?’ the man said with a cruel smile, taking a step towards her.

‘Stay away from me!’ Amaia ordered, straightening and lifting her head.

‘What strange hair you have’ the man remarked. ‘Green hair. You must be a gypsy. You’re certainly not from around here.’ He smiled again. ‘That means you won’t be missed.’

He grabbed her then, pulling her towards him.

Amaia screamed; trying to pull away and grasping the strangers hand with her own, trying to prize his fingers off her arm.

‘Let go!’

There was movement suddenly to her right. She didn’t at first comprehend what had happened until after it was all over. The man that had grabbed her stumbled back. He straightened suddenly to state at White Feather who had appeared at Amaia’s side. Amaia noticed then there was blood gushing from the man’s throat. He collapsed, and didn’t move again.

‘Oh gods…’ Amaia breathed, clamping her hands over her mouth and stepping back. She glanced quickly to the side towards White Feather, seeing a flash of a concealed blade in his hand. A tiny knife that was needle thin and sharp.

‘You killed him’ she gasped in shock and disbelief.

White Feather didn’t answer. He quickly tucked away his blade, hiding it again on his person before grabbing Amaia roughly by the hand and pulling her with him as he ran, back to where they left their horses.

‘I was afraid of this’ he was saying as they darted through the narrow streets. ‘We’ve stayed here too long. This town is not safe.’

‘But why…?’

‘I heard their whisperings’ White Feather glared back. ‘They want to sell you. I think I’ve just made them angry.’

‘Sell? Them? You mean there’s more?’

‘We’ve been watched for quite some time. Quickly now, get on’ White Feather said when they had reached their horses.

Amaia mounted hers.

‘I know where your father and Arlen went’ White Feather told her hastily. ‘He went north to a town called Dilston.’

‘I know the one.’

‘It’s in that direction’ White Feather said pointing off into the horizon. ‘You must hurry.’

‘You’re not coming?’

‘I have to stay here. Those men will come after you if I don’t.’

Amaia hesitated.

‘Don’t worry’ White Feather smiled confidently then. ‘I will find you again. Trust me. Now go!’

Amaia wheeled the horse around and kicked her heels hard into its sides, sending the beast into a gallop.

She ran across the open plains alone, shortly after, disappearing into woodland. She slowed her horse down when the forest began to thicken, eventually dismounting altogether and walking alongside the horse as she led it onwards. Only when she was sure she could not be found by any man, did she stop to rest.

The hours dragged on, and Amaia began to worry. White Feather still had not returned.

The hour began to grow late, and only after the sun had set, did White Feather at last appear.

At first she was frightened by the looming shadow that moved towards her between the trees, but when she saw the silhouette light up by magic, she saw White Feather, and breathed a sigh of relief.

‘I thought I’d lost you for good’ she told him. And then she gasped, seeing him clearer.

The skin around one of his eyes was heavily bruised, his lip was split and there were several cuts and red marks over his face.

‘I’m fine’ White Feather said before she could express her worries. ‘Just sleep’ he told her. ‘We’ve got a long way to go yet.’

That night, Amaia slept on blankets laid out on the forest floor. It was warm enough to not need cover. Everything around her was utterly still and silent. Not even the insects or owls called tonight.

Amaia woke gradually some hours later, her mind fraught with worry for White Feather. When she opened her eyes, the night was in full bloom. Amaia saw that White Feather had made a small fire a short distance away. She lay her on her side watching him as he sat on a tree stump with his back to her. She saw his silhouette as he moved in the firelight. He had lifted his shirt, and was tending to an injury at his side.

Amaia watched him. He had a needle and thread, and appeared to be sowing closed a wound, grimacing with pain.

Amaia let herself relax, and her world began to darken once more.

The next morning, White Feather let her sleep, and when she at last woke, it was midday.

‘Why didn’t you wake me earlier?’ she asked him.

‘You needed your rest’ he replied simply. ‘You were exhausted.’ He reached towards her, stroking her green hair back briefly before rising to his feet. ‘Come on’ he said. ‘I’ve already tended to the horses. They are ready to go.’

Amaia noticed that when he moved, he seemed to do so very stiffly, as if he was in great discomfort, but was trying his best to conceal it.

The next few hours that passed were uneventful as they travelled. They were none the less glad to reach their destination, a town that was large and flourishing and beautiful. It was everything the one they had left wasn’t. Dilston, the town that prospered.

Amaia had no will to admire her surroundings. She was exhausted. Having brooded for many years behind stone walls, where the further she had travelled was the next room; the journey of such a great distance was taking its toll on her.

‘I know exactly where to go’ White Feather was saying. ‘That red haired woman at the inn told me where Arlen would be.’

Before she knew it, Amaia was in a strange building, standing before a strange man.

‘Well well well’ Danior smiled in amusement. ‘This is a peculiar predicament.’

‘How long ago did he leave here?’ Amaia asked.

‘It was several days ago. I sent them to a remote village to find you. And suddenly here you are.’

‘What village? Please, you must tell us.’

‘I will’ Danior replied to her. ‘But you are looking tired and hungry. I will have some rooms prepared for you, you will rest, and then you will eat. And you will have your wounds looked at’ he said to White Feather. ‘No point in objecting’ he quickly added waving him away. ‘I’m not blind.’

‘And what do you ask in return for such kindness?’ Amaia asked suspiciously, as White Feather beside her slumped his shoulders, biting his lip.

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing?’

‘See it as my good deed for the day’ Danior answered. ‘I am leaving these shores to travel to lands far from here. War is coming you know, and I don’t want to be around when it happens.’

‘War?’ Amaia echoed fearfully.

‘I am leaving later today’ Danior went on as if he had not heard her. ‘You won’t see me again. My servant will take you to your rooms. You can stay as long as you like.’

White Feather glared around suspiciously as they were led away, fearful of a trap.

Amaia slept deeply on one of the soft beds they had been given. White Feather however did not rest. He stayed awake the whole time, watching over her, looking out the window, listening, walking up and down the corridor outside the room before returning again to her side.

The next day Amaia was fully rested, and the both of them had eaten all they could that they were given (White Feather insisted on trying everything first as he still suspected a trick of some kind). When they had finished, another servant led them to a courtyard where their horses waited for them. They had been fed and rested and now carried full bags on their backs.

‘Supplies to last you several days’ the servant explained.

Amaia and White Feather exchanged an uncertain look.

‘Why would you do so much for us?’ Amaia asked the man.

The servant shrugged. ‘These are our master’s orders. He is a cruel man, but some days he shows his better side. You were simply lucky enough to pick the right day.’

Amaia felt disappointed at the simplicity of all of it. She mounted her horse without another word, and she and White Feather set off, to start the next part of their journey.