City of Mages

Chapter 31: Alara

Alara pressed herself against the trunk of the tree, wondering if its boughs were hiding her completely. She placed a hand on the dagger at her waist and peered out between the branches. The light of the sun, fully risen, blinded her for a second before she could make out what she was seeing. A small group of councilguards trudged through the forest a few yards away.

Alara's heart leaped, and she was on her feet, the aches and the exhaustion forgotten. It had been a while since anything had gone right.

"Thank El'dyo!" She called out, scrambling from her hiding spot. Before she could say anything else, a set of spears was pointed at her heart, a look of contempt passing across the eyes of the lead guard.

Alara stepped back instinctively and put her hands up in front of her. "Sorry to surprise you. I was just excited to see councilguards out here. I'm Alara Ayar."

The spears didn't twitch and their sneers didn't falter.

"What the hell are you playing at, you dirty bruya?"

Alara's eyes went wide for a second. "I..." She looked down at the dirty tunic and shawl she was wearing and realized the mistake. "Right, my clothes. I stole them. I'm the magite who went missing. Alara Ayar." She looked around at the unfamiliar faces that had moved to surround her. These were likely scouts that guarded the borderlands—no one she would have grown up around. "Alara Ayar. Senye Linda Emaru would be looking for me."

One councilguard stepped forward, his sneer twisting in amusement. "You don't look at like a magite to me."

"I just escaped from a bruya camp."

"And you think we'll believe you just escaped the bruyas without a scratch on you?"

"Sounds like a spy," one man said.

"Or a trap," another suggested, eyes narrowed, surveying the surrounding woods.

"Well, what are you then, girl? A spy or a trap?" The sneering man stepped forward, and it took all of Alara's strength and stubbornness to stand her ground. He was close enough she could see a thin silver scar that crossed his forehead and into his left eyebrow, splitting it in two.

Alara squared her shoulders. "Neither. I told you, I am the missing magite Alara Ayar, and I demand you take me back to the Haven."

One of the men jeered behind her. "She demands."

The man leaned closer to her and brushed a strand of hair from her face, his breath bitter and warm. "No one's going to buy that excuse about stealing bruya clothes. Perhaps if we removed them, we'd have a more objective... look."

Alara paled and stepped back, stomach twisting. There was a smattering of laughter around her, and she felt dread crawling up her spine. This was not what she expected.

Suddenly, she remembered the gold cuff that circled her wrist. She moved to pull back her sleeve, but the fast movement caused the surrounding guards to step forward, their spears almost touching her now.

She raised her hands again. "Hey, morons! I'm just trying to show you—"

Before she could finish, the guard behind her grabbed her arms. The one in front of her moved closer, pressing against her. Without a second thought, she brought her knee up, hitting him between his legs. He gave a groan and folded over. The man holding her arms jerked slightly in surprise, but his grip didn't loosen.

"I told you—" Before she could finish her statement, a whistle broke through the woods and an arrow grazed the side of her face, painting her cheek with the blood of the councilguard's shoulder who had been holding her. She turned to see the rest of the arrow sprouting from his shoulder as he yelled out in pain, his hands finally loosening around her wrists. Alara twisted, a little off balance, and saw bruyas darting out of the woods behind them, more arrows flying.