Chapter 3: Alara

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"You didn't need to knock the poor girl out," Alara said.

Raquel and Emaru lifted the dazed girl into the cart that had just arrived from the Haven. She hadn't spoken and was holding a hand to her head where Raquel had hit her with the sandbag-tipped arrow.

Raquel shrugged, looking back at Alara. "I thought she was a bruya."

Alara motioned toward the embroidered dress that the girl was still wearing. The fabric was rough, but clean and well fitting. The skirt hit the girl at the knee and flared out from her waist. Bruyas didn't wear any particular uniform, but the ones that Alara had seen were always disheveled and dirty, and their females did not wear brightly embroidered dresses.

"Does she seriously look like she's been living in hiding in the cloud forest to you?" Alara said, noticing the village girl's eyes flickering awake.

"She's so much older than magites normally are," Raquel said, her voice lowering to a whisper. "Why hasn't she been found before in the testings?"

This last question was directed toward Emaru, who was climbing out of the cart. Her lips were pursed and eyes narrowed. She ignored the question and walked away to speak with a group of gathered villagers.

Raquel turned back to Alara, her brown eyes flashing. "You sure she has magia? You're not exactly flawless with your powers."

Alara couldn't quite argue that point. "Emaru tested her, too. She definitely has abilities."

She looked toward the wagon again. The girl was now hunched in the cart, eyes cast downward. Her dark, loosely curled hair stuck up a bit haphazardly, and there was a streak of mud on her chin. But she still managed to look defiant, a grim expression on her face. She was also tall, her shoulders broad with muscle. Alara wondered what kind of job she did around the village.

"That's the father, I assume," Raquel said, moving her head toward the man Emaru was talking with.

Looking him over, Alara could see the resemblance. He had the same dark skin and hair, cropped close to his ears. While he was taller than even his daughter, his body was round and soft, making him look less formidable than her. Dull eyes hid beneath bushy eyebrows, his soft chin lined with a graying beard.

The man's brows furrowed in confusion, and he shook his head as Emaru spoke. Alara and Raquel occasionally looked back at the wagon where the girl sat stone silent. Finally, Alara saw the man give a curt nod before turning away, not even sparing a glance toward the wagon.

"I don't think he knew," Alara said.

"El'dyo," Raquel rolled her eyes. "Blameless villagers can be so stupid."

Emaru returned to the wagon and looked up at the girl, who still sat hunched and silent. "Quenti," she said softly.

The girl's—Quenti's—honey eyes flashed, and she finally swiveled them sharply toward Emaru. They sparkled with something that Alara couldn't quite read.

"You have nothing to fear, child," Emaru said. "My name is Senye Linda Emaru, and I am in charge of the school at the Haven. I have spoken with your father and he understands the situation. He's packing your things and then we will be on our way to your new home."

No response. Alara couldn't tell if this was a sign of defiance or confusion on the girl's part.

"I imagine this is all a bit of a shock for you, but we'll have plenty of time to talk on the journey." If the girl's silence and lack of decorum bothered her, she didn't show it. Emaru flashed an enormous smile. "This is the beginning of your new life!"

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