Chapter 3
Chapter Three
The silver finch
nik
You’d think chasing after Thorns all day would curb my desire to run.
It didn't. I came alive. Even though I had wings that carried me faster than my legs ever could, there was something powerful in the way my feet hit solid ground. Blood rushed through my veins, muscles straining against skin as my thighs burned from exertion. Every thud was a reminder that I wasn’t just a Lightner, or a soldier in the king's army.
I was a being that still lived—even after death.
I stopped a few houses down from mine, choosing to walk the rest of the way home while I gathered my breath. The warmth in Lucius couldn’t be compared to The Grey or Oscuro, for that matter. Even though we had all of the seasons, there was still the perfect amount of heat from the sun.
“Evening, Nik,” my neighbour called out as I passed by.
I dipped my head in greeting. “Adam. Your garden is flourishing.”
Yellow daffodils spilled between the white wooden pickets like melting butter, and delphiniums towered over the showy rose bushes. My garden consisted of a few cactuses in pots, so I admired anyone with a green thumb.
Adam beamed. “Winter in Lucius is never a disappointment.”
I grinned in agreement as my feet carried me towards the front door of my terrace-style house. The brass handle was worn in places that the palm of my hand knew like an old friend. I’d only been living here for over a year, but it already felt like home.
Olive green paint coated the extra-wide door—standard sizing for Lucius homes.
As I stepped through, my wings flexed instinctively, angling inward to clear the frame.
A few feathers skimmed the edge, a soft whisper against wood.
I drew in a slow breath, steadying the thrum in my chest. The heel of my leather boot clicked the door shut.
Grime clung to my skin like dust on oil, and sweat had salted the edges of my hair, thick and damp against my face.
I needed a hot bath before I headed back to The Grey to seek out the thief—or whatever she was.
I took the stairs—two at a time—that lead from the entrance to the upper level of my home, heading for the washroom. It was quiet here. Almost too quiet. Adalia often encouraged me to get a pet, though the amount of hours I spend at the compound for work meant I’m not around much.
Without much thought, I ran the bath and discarded my sweat-drenched clothing. I couldn’t help but groan as I eased myself down into the warmth, letting it rush over me. My muscles ached from the workout I did before the run.
My crimson red wings hung over the porcelain edge, scraping the wooden floorboards.
For a few moments, I allowed my eyes to close, my thoughts travelling to work—again.
Lately, there’d been dozens of Thorns bleeding into The Grey.
Whispers from the border spoke of a shift in power—someone new pulling the strings in Oscuro.
I had yet to capture a decrepit Thorn and detain them long enough to conduct a thorough interrogation into these so-called rumours.
It was also something I’d been meaning to discuss with Matthias, considering it was his father that had ruled there for the last millennium.
Work had just been to mind consuming. Adalia likely already addressed the subject. It was her job after all.
Steam curled into the air like fragile clouds, birthing and dying within moments. As I soaked my bones in the liquid heat, my mind wandered to The Night Jewel. Irises cut from sapphires, gleaming between lashes dipped in ink so black, it would make the night jealous.
I could have lost my soul to those eyes—if they hadn’t been filled with venom. Behind those glittering sapphires lay something darker, something I hadn’t been able to put my finger on. Was it the mind of a thief?
Or was it something more nefarious? Something out of her control. Pain, perhaps?
The memory of blotted purple and brown bruises swirled in my mind, staining the skin of her throat like watercolour on canvas.
I had caught the way her eyes widened—ever so slightly—when I’d noticed them.
Embarrassment had been so apparent in the way her warm skin flushed, inky lashes blinking too quickly as her lips slightly parted.
She’d glanced away. But the emotion was gone in an instant, replaced by a scalding venom.
Whatever softness had surfaced had been snuffed out like a trembling flame.
With a sigh, I cupped the water and splashed my face, rubbing hard as if the act might clear my mind of all its churning thoughts. No matter how hard I tried to clear my head, I kept seeing her bruised throat and angry eyes.
I sank lower into the water, but my mind refused to leave her.
~~~~~
Golden afternoon light drenched the streets of Lucius like honey flowing from a beehive as my feet carried me towards the gates.
It was almost half past five—the same time I’d caught sight of the cerulean-haired woman in The Grey a few days ago.
With my hands shoved into my trouser pockets, I gnawed on my bottom lip, a collection of thoughts dancing on my mind, centred on her.
I should be studying for the upcoming assessments for the ranking ceremony, yet everything was too loud inside my head.
I really had no idea what the king needed me to do, but I’d see it through until further instructions were given.
I was almost to the gates at the Veil—the threshold into The Grey. The middle realm. The place where Shadowkin lived, fought, drank, loved, and died without ever realising how thin the Veil between worlds really was.
There, I spotted a familiar figure.
“Blue!”
He turned, a grin stealing across his face. “Missed you the other night. River said you got called to the palace?”
I nodded, shoving my hands into my trouser pockets. “Trust me, I was shocked too.”
“What did the king want?”
“He asked me to keep an eye out on someone in The Grey.”
Blue’s brow rose ever so slightly. “That’s a pretty serious job. Who is it?”
With ease, my shoulders lifted and fell. “Some woman with blue hair.”
My forehead creased at the realisation of my own words. I studied Blue’s hair briefly. “Say, it’s almost the same colour as yours.”
“It’s not often you see that,” he murmured, dragging a hand through his curly mop.
I nodded, letting the words fall between us. “Well, I’d best get to it. Are you coming fishing tonight with River and I?”
Blue grinned as he backed away. “You bet.”
About once a week, River and I headed to the river called Somewhere to fish.
My father used to take me when we were Shadowkin in The Grey—he taught me everything I knew.
After he passed, it took a long time before I could find joy in it again.
But when I came to Lucius, fishing was one of the first things my father and I did together. It brought the comfort back.
I offered Blue a small wave, twisting on my heel, and headed for the gates. As I approached, I flashed my amulet briefly. The guards nodded in respect, and I stepped over the threshold, through the shimmering curtain and into The Grey.
Gravel crunched underfoot as I pushed off the frozen ground, catapulting into the skies. My feathers ruffled against the harsh chill as I snapped my wings open with a whispered whoosh. Cold wind clawed at my coat as I rose, the dying sun igniting my feathers in a blaze of red and gold.
Perhaps I’d circle over the marketplace and see if I could locate the woman from above. It was a lot easier to spot prey with an aerial view.
I pushed my wings down, thrusting myself towards the centre of District Five.
Already, I heard the low chatter of Shadowkin murmuring through wagging tongues.
Wooden window shutters slammed closed, shutting out the bite of winter.
I dipped and twisted between red brick chimneys blackened by soot.
Dreary grey smoke curled into the air, mixing with the bitter wind.
There was no denying it, I’d much rather be at home in the warmth, or fishing, than here.
A sea of canvas stall roofs stretched below me, their patchwork threads catching the last dusting of sunset.
Lanterns hung in swooping arcs between them like spider’s silk.
Their amber glow doused the cobblestone streets, casting long, swaying shadows that danced with every movement of the crowd.
Scents from sweet flowers, hot spices, and woodsmoke curled together in the air—both rich and raw.
Every draw of my breath tasted of something new.
It was no Lucius, but a small part of it reminded me of my childhood.
Laughter echoed over the clattering hum from the merchants as they called out their wares.
Women thrust their dyed silks and dried roots into the faces of passersby, hoping to make a sale.
Orphaned children darted between legs with sticky fingers and stolen fruit, their frightened eyes snapping to faces as they purposely lost themselves in the crowds at the centre of the marketplace.
As I neared the ground, I tucked my wings close to my body, landing on the cobblestone with practised ease. So far, I’d seen no one with cerulean hair and sapphire eyes.
Maybe I had to find my way to the richest-looking folk and hope that sticky fingers—itching to lift jewels and coin from the pockets of those draped in abundance— might lead me to the whereabouts of The Night Jewel. The thief.
I wandered through stalls, keeping a sharp eye on the crowds around me.
I tuned my senses in, narrowing in on shadows and peering into the windows of jewellery stores.
I watched the hands of those around me, waiting to see if one of them would give themselves away.
Perhaps they could lead me to the thief.