City of Mages

Chapter 19: Alara

Alara found a comfortable-looking spot among the roots of a large tree and sat down, her back against the smooth bark. The soil between the roots was cool beneath her and she felt the dampness seeping through her skirts. Normally, she would have worried about getting her clothes so dirty. Emaru had often yelled at her when she came back to their dorms with grass and mud stains all over her clothes. She learned to keep herself clean as she ran around and trained with Adelmo—to avoid Emaru's sharp looks. She doubted the councilwoman would yell at her in this case, though.

Alara leaned her head against the tree trunk behind her and looked up through the canopy of leaves above her. She could just make out a small piece of the inky black sky above their clearing, the stars shining brightly.

She tapped at the club in her hands as she tried to stay awake. She could just run now that she had a weapon. Find the river and make her way to Attalea. A voice in her head urged her to do just that. Alara looked into the dark underbrush surrounding them and thought about the pumisi's yellow eyes again. She had saved them once, but there was no guarantee she could do it again. And direction had never been her strong suit. Where was the river? Down the hill, surely, but the fact she didn't know instinctively irked her.

Alara let out a soft groan and she closed her eyes tightly. Perhaps Emaru was right—after all her training and learning how to fight without her magia, she was still completely useless at saving even herself. With a quiet huff, Alara shook herself from her thoughts. She focused her eyes on the shadows across the clearing. Like she had many times before in her councilguard training, she let her mind go blank and her body go still.

***

"Why didn't you wake me?" Quenti said as she brushed her eyes awake.

"I wanted to keep watch," Alara said curtly. Amid everything happening around her, the responsibility of keeping her fellow magites safe was warm and familiar, even if her "fellow magite" in this case was technically her captor.

Alara stood, brushing off the dirt and leaves that had stuck to her in the night. She wound her aguayo back around her and tied it over her shoulder. She looked back at Quenti expectantly. "Are we ready to go, then?"

Quenti gave an almost growl as she slung her bag over her shoulder and marched past Alara. "You better keep up with me. Don't think you can use lack of sleep as an excuse."

Alara followed in silence.

They walked like this for hours. Alara could hear the constant gurgling of the river somewhere off to their right. She knew they were following it. Following it away from the Haven. Away from home. She watched her feet carefully as they hiked along, stepping over twisted roots and around muddy puddles collected among the underbrush. She was happy for the soft leather sandals she wore, but even then, her feet began to ache by midday. Her legs were sore and she noticed an annoyingly subtle incline of the ground as they trudged on, though she refused to voice her complaints. When she slipped on a root hidden beneath caked mud, she simply bit her lip as pain shot up her ankle.

It was past midday when Quenti finally broke the silence.

"Come out with it."

"What?" Alara didn't look up, still concentrating on where her feet were stepping, her ankle still smarting from her slip earlier.

"I get you're mad at me, but I'm gonna go crazy if we spend the next few days in silence. So get it out—yell at me and tell me all the reasons I'm awful."

"I think you kidnapping me pretty much covers it," Alara said, still not looking up.

Quenti didn't respond and the silence fell heavy between them again, Alara's gaze still fully focused on the ground in front of her. Step. Look. Step. Look.