Ashton’s journey went deep into the night. His courser huffed and slobbered in exertion as rows of huddled trees rushed past. Quaint towns were nestled between Monarch’s Hold and High Hill; Ashton felt a twinge of hatred as he passed each one, revolted by the façade. When he came upon High Hill, Ashton finally gave the courser a trotting break. Days ahead of schedule, Ashton reflected on the series of seemingly preordained happenings that had come together to accelerate his objectives.

The night watchman was tired, but pleasant, and let Cheddar in after a few harmless inquiries. Cheddar guided his courser on foot to a nearby stable and dropped a handful of coppers on the drowsing stable-hand’s lap.

High Hill was built on a minor mountain at the southwest edge of Unitare, with the poorest slums relegated to the literal base of the mountain where rainwater frequently flooded the sewers. As Ashton ascended the inclining brick-ways and steep stairs, he noticed the residences grew more moderate and comfortable.

Ashton had outpaced word of the king’s death to High Hill; Orsa’s place was still bustling with activity.

Inside the high-end brothel, Ashton perused the wares with the detached, clinical interest of a farmer evaluating cattle. Once he had seen enough, he asked to speak with the housemother.

“And you are?”

“Tell her Cheddar wishes to see Boo-boo.”

“Boo-boo? Is she a new girl?”

“No. Just a bitch.”

Ashton waited until Orsa, the housemother, pulled a curtain aside and saw him.

Orsa opened her mouth to say something but shook her head. She turned around and let the curtain swing close behind her.

Ashton followed. 

Cheddar and Orsa exited through the rear. He followed her until they entered a private kennel.

“Poor girl’s getting old,” Orsa told him, placing her hand on top of the cage, “thinks you’ve forgot about her.”

Most of the dogs had woken up when they entered, yelping and fussing over their arrival. Boo-boo got up in her cage and squinted at Cheddar.

He handed Orsa a small pouch of silver for housing Boo-boo. The housemother turned over the light pouch in her hand, none too pleased.

“Heard you took up the cloth,” Orsa told him.

Ashton didn’t reply. Keeping his eyes locked on Boo-boo, he removed a second pouch from his coat and handed it over.

Housemother Orsa was much more pleased at the weight of this one, and gawked when she spotted the gold inside.

“Boo-boo shall be coming home with me. The rest of the gold is for girls, I shall need a suite of them.”

 ~

Boo-boo licked some blood off her chops while Ashton studied the runes he would need to recreate. Line-after-line and page-after-page of detailed instructions on covering the bell’s entire exterior in the language of the Watchers.

He turned to look at Boo-boo, who was resting her head on her paws, looking up at him. She had grown massive since being a puppy, but still had the same dense, liver-colored coat. Ashton had trained her years ago and found himself remembering the time fondly.

Cheddar reached out to pet Boo-boo. She lifted her head and sat up to meet his extended hand. He pulled his hand away, though, returning to the texts.

Days ahead of schedule, and he still felt time escaping him.