The Shadow Soul (10 page)

Balance.

Nature.

Cupping her hands, Jinji pictured the jinjiajanu between the elemental strands, the pure white mother spirit that tied everything together. And then she imagined a rock resting on her fingers, painted with the faces of her family members.

Closing her eyes, she spun the weave, praying to the spirits to listen to her plea for a moment to mourn, a moment to remember.

When she opened them, the image was there, dancing an inch over her fingers, solid. Four faces—her father, her mother, Leoa, and Janu—all smiling, as though saying hello. She would not forget their faces, ever. And to make sure, she had called this illusion every day since she had left the village. Each time, her throat caught and her eyes burned, but she didn’t look away.

"Ka'shasten," she whispered,
my family
.

Jinji's heart slowed, her mind began to clear, and for a brief moment, she felt at peace.

And then a shadow passed overhead, skipping over the image, distorting it.

Jinji released the illusion, gasping, and looked up.

A bird.

Just a bird.

And yet, she looked out over the water, following the shadow as it floated over the waves, reminding her of the dream—her nightmare.

A shadow was never just a shadow. Not for her.

"Rhen?" She called, jumping to her feet.

But as she spun around, it was not Rhen standing close by. On the other side of Ember, a few feet from where she stood, two men were in close conversation. Their clothes hung loose on their bodies, dirty and ragged looking. Their skin a deep tan, not born that way but turned that way from hours of exposure in the sun.

They hadn't seen her, were not paying attention.

Jinji leaned in closer, following a hunch that told her this was not a coincidence. 

"Dead?" One man asked, shock coloring his words.

"Ay, dead," the other confirmed.

"But how?"

"Another mystery." The second man shrugged. "They found the two of them below deck, one stabbed and the other with a cut throat. No one knows how it happened, or why."

Cut throat?

Maniuk flashed before her eyes, the image of his hand stilled and a blade at his throat. A shadow was never just a shadow, she repeated. This time it was a sign.

"But Georgey? Kill himself? I've never seen a man more at peace on the water, like a fish he was. Always climbing the ropes, securing the sails, never a complaint. He used to say it was as close as a man could get to flying, standing all the way up on the lookout while the wind whipped his face raw."

The other one shook his head. "I guess there was more going on than we knew."

"Ay, something unnatural, something godly, like we're being punished. You heard about the little boy and his sister found just outside the wall not two days ago? I heard rumors her throat was slit too, though the Lord of Roninhythe says the children fell to their deaths." 

"Fell to their deaths?" He guffawed, "if they fell, then I'm a Son of Whyl."

The other man laughed. "If you're a Son of Whyl, then I'm the conqueror himself."

"You smell enough like the grave."

They both fell into a loud round of laughter, giving Jinji enough time to crouch down and hide behind Ember's wide body before they noticed her eavesdropping.

"Jin!"

Rhen's voice startled her, coming from the same direction she had just turned from. She straightened her legs, watching as the two men jumped apart, bowing their heads low as he neared. Rhen paid them no attention, walking straight to Ember as they scurried out of the way.

"I found my ship." He smiled, obviously proud of himself. "We leave tomorrow."

"And until then?" She asked, anxiety leaking into her chest.

Rhen winked. "Follow me."

Jinji paid little attention to her surroundings as she followed Rhen down the docks and back to the street. The mud was squishy and wet beneath her feet. Her mind was still on what she had just overheard, wondering if the deaths could somehow be connected—if her shadow was after more than what it had already taken, after more than just her ruin.

She might be closer to answers than she ever realized.

If only she could talk to more people, learn more about these deaths.

But—she looked down at her clothes, at her skin—she was nothing more than something to gawk at to these people. A walking myth. Something to stare at, not talk to.

Looking to the side, she eyed Rhen's profile. His straight, sharp nose. His pearly flesh freckled and kissed only minutely by the sun. His red hair, gleaming brighter against the stone around them. He stood out too, but not nearly as much. And he was powerful amongst these people—it radiated off him. If she asked him for answers, he would find them. It was only a matter of opening up and telling him what she searched for.

But her lips tightened, unsure, holding back.

Now was not the time.

And Jinji wasn't sure when or if she would ever be able to talk about what had happened, with anyone, anywhere.

He met her stare, green eyes sparkling like the surface of the water she had just been studying.

"We're here." He grinned. Her lips tugged wide, a natural reaction to his overflowing glee.

And then she looked above, at the sign hanging overhead. She couldn’t read it, but somehow she knew what it said.

The Staggering Vixen
.

Her gut dropped to the floor, the word
whore
fluttering back to the forefront of her mind.

Rhen tied Ember to a post, flicking a coin into the hands of a skinny boy waiting by the door, who immediately ran inside and emerged seconds later with a bucket of water to place by her hooves. Ember sunk down, licking greedily, and Rhen pushed open the door, letting Jinji enter first.

Holding her breath, she passed him, resisting the urge to close her eyes and walk forward blindly.

But oh, how she wished she had.

As soon as she had crossed the threshold, Jinji was grabbed into an embrace, her face thrust into the largest breasts she had ever seen, while a woman cried out, "What a darling you are!"

Jinji pushed away, careening back and out, immediately crossing her arms over her considerably smaller chest to keep them flattened and contained, as if the mere proximity to the busty women around her would somehow spurn them into growth.

"Martha!" Rhen called behind her, slapping Jinji forward and farther into the room. "An ale for my young friend. And two for me!"

Jinji groaned inwardly as his laughter rang in her ears, loud once more.

6

RHEN

~ RONINHYTHE ~

Priceless.

That was the only way to describe Jin's face when they walked in, Martha doing exactly what Rhen had expected of her. She couldn’t resist goading a young boy on, couldn't resist the attention.

As another chuckle poured from his lips at the mere memory, Rhen wished he could relive the scene again—just once—maybe twice.

But, he remembered, looking at Jin in the center of the tavern, arms still crossed awkwardly over his chest, face still glowing red—there was more fun to be had.

"Sit down," he announced loudly, starting to play up the role of the womanizing prince—his usual fallback, especially in this tavern.

Jin looked at him with utter confusion, so taking charge, Rhen pushed him over toward a booth where the boy sat down stiffly, still not uncrossing his arms.

"Relax, Jin, these women aren't here to bite," Rhen said, slightly caring and slightly goading. The boy's eyes sparked, almost taking him up on the challenge, but then softened.

Breasts interrupted Rhen's eyesight, filling his vision.
Good old Martha
, he thought,
always putting the goods on display
. She was older than most of the women in the tavern, but she made up for it by pulling her corset the lowest and proudly displaying her ample bosom. 

"Maybe he's never kissed a girl," she said, her voice high pitched and airy, at least until she had a few ales in her and then it would drop a few octaves, the ladylike persona gone. Rhen had even heard her belch before, alongside the men, no shame—just the way he liked a girl. Unafraid. Real.

Thinking of ale, Rhen reached out, grasping his cup and taking a long, full gulp. Damn, it tasted good. He'd been far too long in the forest.

"Cheers," he said, lifting the cup. Jin paused for a moment, unsure, then followed suit, clanking his glass against Rhen's. He took a sip, winced, and then grinned. "Be careful," Rhen warned, "if you're not used to it, that drink will go right to your head." Jin would most assuredly be an entertaining drunk, but Rhen needed a few things to look forward to on the journey ahead.

Jin nodded, eyes bulging as Martha came back boasting a cup of her own and sat next to him on the booth. Rhen picked his ale up, hiding his smile behind a large gulp.

"Have you? Kissed a girl?" Martha asked, leaning forward and closer.

Rhen watched a blush creep up Jin's dark cheeks, turning his skin a rosy copper as his gaze flashed back and forth between the view before his eyes and the foamy rim of his glass.

Jin just shook his head.

Rhen paused—he could intervene, save the boy—but why?

Martha pressed forward, figuratively and literally, asking, "You've never had a sweetheart?"

Another shake, but this time a shadow fell over Jin's eyes, a darkness crept into his expression. The blush was pushed aside by an ashen hue and his eyes fell to his cup, not looking anywhere else in the room.

Rhen's brows closed together as worry clenched his heart. If Jin had a sweetheart, she was dead now, along with the rest of his people. A memory was playing in the boy's head, flashing behind eyes that had grown distant, and Rhen couldn’t help but feel sorry, feel hurt himself watching the pain pierce his new friend's entire being.

Just as he was about to speak up, about to intervene, another voice entered the conversation, and Rhen turned just in time to open his arms for the female that landed in his lap.

"Who's never had a sweetheart?"

"Reana," he said, remembering her name and nodding his head in greeting. She was new; a petite blond Martha had recently found and pulled from the streets. He saw her not two weeks ago when he first arrived in Roninhythe, and already he noticed the change. Her clothes were tighter, her cheeks had been rouged, her appearance fake like the others. But still, it felt nice to have a warm body on his lap, a skinny waist to wrap his arm around, even if just for a few hours.

"Surely not our Prince Whylrhen," she cooed, leaning in closer to his body, not providing quite the same view as Martha. "That poor innkeeper's daughter. Her reputation will never be the same. We heard her father tried to chase you from the city!" She drew a hand flat against her chest in mock distress. Rhen saw Martha's eyes narrow, annoyed that she was no longer the main attraction. "Is that why you came to the Staggering Vixen, instead of the castle?"

Rhen laughed loudly, adding, "Now why would I go to the castle when I have everything I need right here?" He lifted his glass and gripped her waist tighter, earning a soft giggle as she snuggled closer to his body.

Martha jumped in, bringing Jin back into the center of conversation, but Rhen's mind wandered elsewhere.
Cal better have dropped off the gold
, he thought, making a note to bring it up when he saw him later. He hoped the poor girl wasn't ruined for life. He had needed a reason to leave the city, a reason to move so suddenly and so urgently, but the last thing he wanted…

Ugh
, he sighed, leaning back in the wooden booth. According to the rumors, he had ruined many a girl along the path of the Great Road. If he even spoke to a woman, the gossip began and a mere conversation would be turned into an affair before the sun fell. It was one reason Cal kept his very proper sister very far away from Rhen.

But there was no better way to sneak around castles and the town at night, no better cover than the story other people would create. If he was caught wandering the streets, it was brushed off as Rhen going after another conquest—not Rhen, looking for information, spying on other lords, working under the cover of darkness. That was a weapon he couldn't afford to lose.

And he knew it.

It was also a weapon he would deploy tonight, he knew, hugging Reana closer to his body, feeling her limbs buzz with excitement as she cast a sidelong glance in his direction, a coy smile plastered on her lips.

He'd chosen her.

Just not for the reason she thought.

The noise around them had grown, Rhen realized, casting a glance around the filling tavern. Night must have fallen. The more stars in the sky, the more men in the tavern—it was just how these things worked. More girls had come out of the woodwork, serving drinks and providing some much needed companionship.