City of Mages

Chapter 22: Alara

It took a few seconds for Alara to realize the lift had stopped. Her knuckles gripped white against the railing and her arms ached with tension. She could see amusement playing on Micos's face as he gently guided her off the lift. The young bruya gave her a smile. It seemed genuine, but it made her chest tighten.

"You get used to it," he said. "The first time I took it down as a bruyita, I almost peed myself."

Alara didn't know what to say—or if she even wanted to respond. Before she could decide, Runeo was next to them, roughly grabbing her arm.

"Hurry up, mage."

The tone should have annoyed Alara, but she was too captivated by the surrounding sights to notice. They made their way through the treetops, walking along wood planks tightly pieced together and somehow balanced on the tree branches. Under normal circumstances, she would have been terrified, but given how tightly the planks were packed together, it offered no opportunity to see the dizzying fall below. Besides that, there was plenty to see above the planks to keep her eyes occupied.

The city was a maze of bridges and stairways, stretching as far as she could see. While it made for quite a sight, Alara hadn't the faintest idea how the bruyas didn't get lost. Each tree looked the same, but everyone around her seemed to know where they were going. She wondered if this was how Quenti felt when she was first brought into the Haven.

Hundreds of bruyas milled about the city, some walking fast with a purpose and others taking their time, chatting in groups. Laughter rang out across the treetops. Two young children darting between legs and across a rope bridge caught Alara's attention, seemingly unaware of the fall that awaited them if they stepped the wrong way or lost their balance.

The bruyas gave Alara's group a wide berth as they passed, but a few more curious souls followed behind their train, necks craning to see where she was headed, arms still tied behind her. She lifted her chin and kept her gaze fixed above the bruya's heads. Her stomach roiled with an emotion somewhere between hate and fear as she tried not to make eye contact with anyone in the village.

They walked, weaving their way from platform to platform, crossing the village—or perhaps Runeo had only taken them in a few circles. Alara truly couldn't tell. But they finally made it to the front of a large wooden hut. It was larger than any of the other buildings Alara had seen. Balanced between five separate trees, the round structure sat along a large platform stretched between the trunks. Smoke ribboned from its top, where the thatched ceiling gaped at the center. Intricately weaved curtains hung in the doorway and a small boy leaned against the frame, looking bored. Until he saw them.

"Runeo!" The boy straightened immediately. "I'll let them know you're here."

Runeo simply nodded as the kid darted into the building. Less than a minute later the curtains parted, and Alara was ushered into the room, Runeo's grip still tight on her arm.

Inside, the air was hot and thick. A fire crackled in the center of the room, though the light was dim, with only a few slivers of sunlight stretched across the floor, the torches and fire at the center fighting against the inherent darkness. It took just a few seconds for Alara to realize just how much fire was contained within the wooden—purely wooden—building. Her heart lurched, and she stumbled a bit before catching herself. Runeo had let go of her arm and pushed her forward. She took a few steps, edging away from the minor inferno that crackled in the center.

When she looked up, she saw three pairs of eyes trained on her. One of them—an older man with nearly white hair and a deeply creased face—moved his hand to rest on the hilt of the dagger that was tucked in his belt.