The figure beckoned, mist swirling around them like a cloak. Asha hesitated, heart pounding, then stepped closer. The cave's air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something else – a hint of cardamom, like the spice traders brought from Zanzibar.
As Asha approached, the figure lowered their veil. It was an old woman, her skin like polished mahogany, eyes gleaming with ancient knowledge. A silver band adorned her forehead, etched with symbols of the whindi.
"I am Kambi," she said, voice like the wind through reeds. "Malkia wa Pepo awaits."
Asha's breath caught. "The Wind Queen?"
Kambi smiled, teeth gleaming. "She who commands the whindi does not wait long."
Asha followed Kambi deeper into the cave, water sounds fading, replaced by a low hum – like the forest breathing. They reached a chamber lit by glowing fungi, casting eerie shadows.
Malkia wa Pepo sat on a stone throne, winds swirling around her like a living veil. Her eyes met Asha's, and the air stilled.
"You are of the wali blood," the Wind Queen whispered, her voice everywhere and nowhere. "The mountains whisper of a forgotten path. Will you walk it?"
Asha felt a weight settle on her shoulders. "What path?"
"The artifact hidden by my ancestors," Malkia said, winds picking up. "It holds the whindi's power. But shadows seek it too. Will you find it before they do?"
Asha swallowed. "I'll try."
Kambi handed her a small pouch. "Follow the wind's song. Trust no shadows."
Asha opened the pouch – a feather, a crystal, and a note with coordinates.
Malkia's voice echoed: "The whindi guide you. But beware – some secrets are not meant to be kept."
Asha stepped out of the cave, dwindling light catching her like a shroud. The coordinates led northeast, into the highlands. The wind's song hummed in her ears.