This was only a small detour. He'd be back on the road in no time.
Noah tightened his grip on Shadow's reins. Big glossy carriages blocked the street, and on either side shopkeepers shouted their prices as if competing for who had the loudest voice. It was Noah's first time in the capital – big cities weren't really his thing.
His fingers brushed the letter folded in his coat pocket. He had to find the healing house on Castle Road. Noah looked up at the massive stone keep that loomed over the city center. By far the tallest building he'd ever seen, it displayed Fellera's emblem, a giant blue star with silver tips.
Next to Noah and Shadow, a couple dressed in silks and furs stepped out of their carriage and examined a merchant's booth. Noah wanted to ask for directions, but with his threadbare black coat and dusty breeches tucked in busted leather boots, he figured he shouldn't mingle with the fancy people. Instead he jumped off his horse and asked one of their servants.
The boy indicated a side street to their left. "But I heard the healer is sick. Must've caught something from one of his patients."
Even though he already knew, anxiety tightened Noah's chest. What if he was too late? He thanked the boy and made his way to the narrower street, guiding Shadow by the reins. For all his years and greying black coat, the old stallion was still strong and resilient. But they'd ridden hard the past two days, and as they passed an inn from which conversations and laughter spilled out, Shadow tilted his head and whickered softly. Even the smells of ale and roasted meat couldn't hide the scent of horses and haystacks of the inn's stable yard. Noah gave him a reassuring pat.
Soon he halted in front of a sturdy, white stone building with granite columns. It looked like a temple, except no statues of the gods surrounded the entrance, and the sign said Place of Healing. After handing a few coppers to a bored-looking kid to watch over Shadow, Noah strode to the white door, his heart pounding. Well, here goes nothing.
Inside, the late afternoon sunlight streamed in from mullioned windows over rows of curtained beds. Noah stopped by the desk, behind which a young woman was placing jars on neat shelves. She wore a solemn black dress, and as she turned to face him, her face was pale and her eyes red-rimmed. The noose tightened around his chest.
"Oh, is this about supplies?" She cleared her throat. "Trust me, I wish I could buy some, but my funds are very low at the moment." She'd mistaken him for a Laethi merchant. Since he had the dark hair and tan skin typical of Fellera's eastern neighbors, the misunderstanding wasn't surprising.
"Don't worry, I won't try to sell you anything. My name is Noah. I was hoping to find Master Victor Starborn."
"It's nice to meet you, Noah. I'm Ambry. But . . . I'm so sorry." She shook her head. "Master Starborn passed away. They buried him today in Blackhill Cemetery. If you want, there's a little shrine in the back. It really isn't much, but . . ."
"Thanks." Grateful to have something to do with himself, Noah walked between the beds. He cringed at the tangy smell of sleeper's fix, a tea known to relieve pain and cause drowsiness. When he got sick as a kid, the orphanage nurse kept forcing that stuff down his throat.
He passed a goddess statue and paused in front of a wooden stand, which held a golden plate, pink roses, little candles, and a painting of an affable man with grey hair and blue eyes. Noah realized he'd seen him once before. No anger or sadness came with the memory – only numbness. It was eight years ago, when Noah was twelve. This man had stopped him in the street, looking all troubled. He had asked about his mother's name. I don't have a mother, Noah had replied before running off.
The numbness gave way to an urge to laugh. Suddenly needing to get out of here, Noah hurried back to the entrance. But he drew up short, holding the door halfway open, and glanced at Ambry over his shoulder. "Was he your father?"
"No." She smiled. "He took me in as an apprentice. He didn't have any children, or even a wife. Married to the craft, you know."
"Right. Well, thanks for the shrine."
Ambry leaned over the desk. "Wait, I'm curious. Why were you looking for him?"
"Sorry, I've got to run." Noah stepped out before she could voice another question.
Shivering in a chilly wind that sent russet leaves scurrying across paved stones, Noah got Shadow back and headed towards the inn they'd passed before. Shadow needed the rest, and he could use a drink.
~ I'm here if you need me. You don't have to be alone. ~
His demon's charming voice resonating through his mind was a brutal reminder that he was a dark mage in the capital, where Fellera's new queen famously liked to throw people like him in her dungeons.
I don't think I can see you right now, as much as I'd like to. I should lie low until I'm back on the road.
~ Then maybe drinking isn't the best idea. ~
Kili, I'm late for the mission my adoptive father gave me because I came chasing after my long lost biological one, and now it turns out the old man's already dead.
~ Maybe one drink, then. ~