40°23'37.1"N 49°58'48.4"E– Qara?uxur, Bak?

  24.05.2024 – 10.00 UTC +04.00

  I drank some water, replenishing my strength. My dry mouth appreciated it, and then I spoke:

  “Nizami. I recognize it. She is there. I see her too. She is scared, but she is okay.”

  The man across the table shifted awkwardly. His tongue moved across his lips and mustache, making him appear like a lizard. He was just a man, however. A sad man. Maybe violent, but I had nothing to fear.

  I guess the bitch went back, I heard his mind whisper. I tried to block it out by focusing on the candle’s flame at the side of the table. I was not interested in learning the back story.

  “You need to get specific,” the man said. His voice grated on me; I knew he had no reason to trust me. I was Cursed, in a city where no Cursed should be able to roam free.

  “The money. And then you get the address.” My eyes darted left and right. Nobody in the coffee shop was paying attention to us. They were locked onto the television, broadcasting news from the war in the West.

  The man clicked his tongue. I was running impatient.

  “You want the address or not?”

  He tossed an envelope on the table. I grabbed it and hid it underneath the table. I ran my fingers quickly through its contents and let my Farsight do the rest.

  “Yes, I see it.” A street name and number.

  I wrote it on a piece of paper in front of me, and I slid it to his side of the table.

  “Now scrum.”

  The man looked at the note and crumpled it.

  “If you are…”

  “You will forget me. Now go.” I whispered. The candle’s flame was immobilized for a split second, as my whisper infiltrated his thoughts.

  He did not resist. As he stepped away, I let my eyes drift to the television screen in the middle of the coffee shop.

  Footage of birds, starlings no doubt, flying in a stormy sky. The videos were shaky, taken mostly by witnesses using their smartphones. A presenter gave a harrowing description of the aftermath in Q?b?l?. Hundreds of dead, and hundreds unaccounted for. Aircraft were seized by the “Cursed militia”, as well as the airport itself.

  What a coven of shapeshifting Cursed starlings needed aircraft for – I could not guess.

  Footage of the interior of the airport, mostly blurred to make it fit for public viewing, and still implying enough to satiate the viewers’ curiosity, gave a tour to recreate the chaos of that stormy evening.

  A couple of old men commented between their teeth, and one of them sneered: “Let the birds flock to fight the weak. Bak? would never flinch.”

  I pondered their confidence. In the couple of days that I explored the city, nothing looked different, besides the absolute absence of Cursed, and the peculiar worshipping stance of locals towards Shadows. I had caught a glimpse of a couple of Shadows, touring in the center. Dressed in gray long clothes, looking taller, stronger, and richer than the rest. Surrounded by servants and sycophants. They were a social class of their own, mystically tied by kinship to the ruling class.

  I had diligently avoided crossing paths with their kind in the past days. Not because they were stronger than me, by no means. If it came to it, my Curses could bend tens of them. But they were more than that, hundreds, thousands perhaps, flocking to the city turned into a haven of longevity for them. And they were all somehow inexplicably linked through Ramin’s Domain.

  The footage on the television changed to a different scenery, still familiar, but unexpected.

  The view from the coast of Sumqay?t, unless I was mistaken. The Caspian Sea extended to the north. And although it was a sunny day, there was steam and fog limiting the horizon.

  IS THIS ANOTHER SIGHTING OF CASPIANS?

  I squinted my eyes. A squiggly shape on the horizon that looked like a ship. A Caspian Frigate? Debatable. More likely that it was a speck on the camera.

  I raised my glass to finish sipping on my water. As I did, a man pulled the chair and sat across me.

  “Seat’s taken,” I said, and I saw his hand move and extinguish the candle’s flame.

  “Give me five minutes, for once,” he pleaded.

  Dark eyes, hair tightly knit into a braid. A faint stubble of a beard.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  R??id had found me. Once again. At this point, I doubted there was any point in my trying to ward against him. It did not seem to work. Was it because he had broken my ward already once? Or was it the hex we had cast together in the airport? I did not know, but I was annoyed.

  “I have nothing to give you.”

  “You send abusers to their wives for payment, but you have nothing to give me.”

  So, he has been watching for a while, my exchange with the man before. I was cynical, but I was a bit offended R??id still believed I would be so callous.

  “Tsk. She has a gun. If she aims right, she can get him. He had no use for money. And I don’t care to explain myself to you.”

  “You did anyway.”

  “Out with it.”

  His face lit up –it was the first time I had agreed to negotiate with him. The first time he remembered, at the very least. The very first day I was out of the hospital and wandering in Bak?, he approached me. It did not go well. That time, and every time I entertained it. Always the same dialogue.

  “You and I. We are probably alone here.”

  “There are more people in here, R??id.”

  That’s not what he meant, and I knew it.

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Look, we can benefit each other.”

  “You mean, I can benefit you.”

  “I can talk with Ramin. We just need to find him somewhere alone.”

  I leaned forward and whispered in an ironic conspiratory tone.

  “You mean the General Secretary? Any ideas where he is?”

  We both knew where he was. The National Assembly, at the center of the city, had turned into a palace for, well, him.

  “We both know where he is. The Assembly.”

  I sighed. This conversation had gotten old. I left the glass on the table.

  “Look, I am tired. Yes, we could go talk to him. Your silence, my ward, together we go unnoticed. But then, when we find him, what do we tell him? You want a flight to Aridaria. I want to stay here because I care too much about this land. That, at least, this city is out of reach for both birds and trees, and as long as I lay low, I can get by and save enough money. And when the war outside this Domain is over, find a nice place in the valley. Or cross the Caspian Sea.”

  R??id leaned back, his face turning red. Perhaps in anger, or realization. I continued.

  “And then you call me selfish. And then I tell you that it is not only visions of Catastrophe in Africa. I see visions of other places, too. An ocean, and even Antarctica. And in the mountains in China. Carnage. You tell me that we have to fight an unknown threat. That this is bigger than me, and that I don’t understand.”

  I felt a knot in my throat. The words were unfair, but true.

  “And then I tell you that everyone and everything I have ever fought for has betrayed me. I tell you that you should have killed me that night. That we are called Cursed for a reason.”

  It was my turn to lean back now.

  “How many times?”

  “I don’t know. Five? You keep coming back.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “I know why I came searching. What I don’t know is, why do you erase my memory?”

  I felt a throbbing pain in my head. My heart beat faster, and my face turned hot.

  “Well, I guess today you are lucky. I don’t feel like it. Don’t follow me.”

  I left a banknote on the table and took my leave.

  I spent the rest of the day trying not to think of R??id and his question. And wondering if I should have warded his memories out like always. But it was done.

  After I spent most of my payment on essentials, rent for the next weeks, I decided that I had to take the evening off. The past nights, I spent them lurking in alleys, waiting for someone whose thoughts revealed enough trouble that I could solve. Stalking them, making sure it was worth the risk. Making sure they were desperate enough to seek a seer and making sure they are not related to Shadows.

  No, this evening I needed some of the night breeze. And I knew just the place, back from my twenties.

  Sultan’s cape. It was not a very long ride from my current apartment. It was nothing but a humble pebbly cape, whose rocky coast extended deep into the Caspian Sea. Far from the hustle of the city’s main ports. You could gaze far into the sea, but also gaze back and take in the view of the entire city.

  I found my path to the cape’s end quite quickly. It was late and dark. I bet no woman would feel safe coming this far on her own. But I was never scared of the rough terrain, nor men. So tonight, it was a nice chance to enjoy the northern breeze of the cape.

  The sea looked dark, only illuminated by the moon and the lights of the city. But it was calm and soothing. The breeze became even stronger, and the north wind flattened the sea. I closed my eyes, letting the wind hit my face. With my hands, I unraveled my hair, letting it fly unruly against the wind.

  Had I missed flying as a starling, riding the wind? Maybe. It has only been a few days. But I missed most of all the quiet. Peace. In the past years, I had only dealt with escalation after escalation. And now, covenless, I had nobody to hunt or to be hunted by. The past few days, I had the best sleep of my life.

  The wind quieted down, and as it did, the sound of bells reached me.

  I opened my eyes. An enormous frigate had appeared near the archipelago of Bak?. Its decorative lights extended from mast to mast. And I recognized the bells’ sounds, hanging from the main mast. I did not need to see the flag waving. I knew it was a Caspian Frigate.

  The northern wind carried now more bells, different, larger, and made of brass, ringing across the city. Bells of welcome, not of threat. The city was welcoming them.

  If the domain of Shadows had brokered an alliance with the Caspians, no other covens in the area had any hope. Maybe Ramin was right, and he could end this war. And maybe I was also right; I just needed to wait it out, from my little corner of the city.

  I wanted to smile, but I could not. I knew I was not right. I was so unbelievably wrong. That’s why I always made R??id forget our chats. I needed him to try again until he convinced me.

  And the more the wind blew, the more certain I was. It was almost imperceptible, but I could feel it switching. It was no longer the northern breeze I always knew. A more treacherous wind from the West.

  I could feel his grey eyes searching for something.

  Zephyr.