Tasen was abuzz with the change in weather. Morning was always a chaotic time in Azurei as people scurried about to get tasks done before the heat of the midday sun drove them indoors. Evening was much the same. But there was something about this late morning that was different than usual. There were more children out, excused from some of their regular chores for a moment. And the elderly that usually sat outside barking orders at said children were now couched under awnings, or just inside their homes with the curtains that served as doors flung aside. People in the market were sometimes less jovial about it, as it meant that they had to protect their wares with cloth and couldn't hock them as well--especially spice traders. They were often found standing together, brewing up a pot of Orosian coffee and grumbling, but not too hard. And when Darin came by them, they all genuinely smiled and waved at her. 

The sailors loved her. Whether it was because they had a deep connection to the sea and to the sea spirit Istaerih and could sense her love and joy for Darin, or if it was simply because the turbulent wind and seas made for bad fishing and therefore gave them the day off, it was hard to say. But they seemed to love her as much as the children did, of which there were many in her proximity. The sailors begged her to play a gambling game with them, though they used wooden chips instead of money and happily offered some so she could play. One even offered to give her a tattoo right then and there. Not an Ojih mark, for he was not qualified to give someone their first and it was not a step to be taken lightly, but a more ordinary tattoo. Ridahne explained that was a true act of friendship and love to offer up the work of one's hand to mark permanently the body of another. They all marveled as the sea spit her back out onto the dock like it was a kind of game. Ridahne, who laughed and stood beside her, was drenched and her red uri clung to her knees, but she did not care. The rain was warm and refreshing.

But Ajoran was not there. Somewhere between the market and the docks, he had disappeared. Ridahne knew, and knew also what he was up to, though she did not let on that he was even missing. For one thing, it was not necessary. The work Ajoran was doing was best done in secret, and no other ears needed to know of it. More importantly though, she and Darin were having fun, and she did not want to sour the moment for Darin by telling her that she'd sent him away to apprehend the man who'd stared Darin down in the marketplace. Ridahne had seen him at once, and when Darin was busy chatting with a shopkeeper, she had strayed beside the man and leaned in close, whispering into his ear. 

"I am a ghost of the sands. I am the shadow behind every door. I am the chill of a moonless night. I am the blade, and I am death. Be awake, Red Hand. For I will haunt your nightmares." 

To all appearances, she was an amicable stranger, or perhaps a known friend come to speak a private word. There was even a soft smile on her face. But nothing about Ridahne was soft, and to those that knew her, the softness alone betrayed her intentions. She left him and rejoined Darin before she'd finished her conversation with the shopkeep, and the man was left with a cold thrill in his chest. He watched as the she-ghost spoke, seemingly lovingly and flirtatiously with the man she was with, and he caught her amber eyes one more time as she looked back to him as if indicating him in particular without pointing. He saw the man nod slowly, and knew he had to run. But he could not afford to make a scene, so he tried to slip quietly away and slink far enough from them that he could move more openly and with more speed. With every step, his heart pounded harder and harder, and he looked all about him like a hunted rabbit scenting a trailing fox. 

And indeed, the fox came. The man got further than he'd hoped, but with that time his fox had gathered two more foxes, and all three penned him in. Two wore Taja sashes, and the other, the first, he guessed was also a Taja just by his bearing. The man swallowed hard. He thought bitterly that he was about to die for the cause, for the true freedom of Astra, but instead of slaying him openly, the three led him away quietly to a building not quite attached to the palace, though it was considered part of it. And he was placed in a dark room lit only by some low burning coals in one corner. A thick rope was slipped over his hands and another over his head, closed around his neck, tightened. But it did not wrench. There was just enough tension in the rope that if he stood flat on his feet, it would press at his throat and make it difficult to breathe. But if he stood on his toes, he could breathe clearly enough. Eagerly, lusting for air, he took the chance and stood on the balls of his bare feet and felt at first like he'd cheated the foxes. But then, as the coals were stoked, and all three Taja exited the room and shut the door with a clang, the man realized that this hope, and the building heat, was made especially for his torment. And if he wanted to survive, he had to keep it up.

--

The sailors were pointing out different kinds of small shellfish that clung to stones or dock pylons, and telling Darin all the information or legends they all knew about them, when Ajoran came back. He kissed Ridahne on the cheek and said in a formal tone, "Taja Torzinei, you're awaited." 
Ridahne kissed his cheek in return and looked at Darin, and for the first time she gave away some hint that there was anything but joy happening today. There was a determined, hardened glint to her eyes. "Darin, sister, there is a task I must see to urgently. It cannot wait. I'll tell you everything over a meal tonight, but it's dark business, and best told in brief and beside the cheerful crackle of a fire in the hearth. In the meantime, Ajoran will stay with you."