Wielder

Chapter 25 - Under Siege

Li'ia glistened with splendor. Elegant boutiques with floor-to-ceiling windows proudly displayed hand-designed dresses and hats and purses. Charming bakeries overflowing with treats sported crisp white tables and chairs at which to spend an afternoon chatting with friends. Garden boxes hanging from windows contained fresh green herbs and colorful berries that spilled down curling vines. Tiny birds plump from crumbs chirped along golden balcony railings. The people that milled through the streets sported expensive fashions, from trailing skirts to feather-plumed sun hats to brightly-colored jackets.

Unfortunately, the city's glamor was ruined by the overwhelming number of soldiers sweeping the streets.

They were everywhere; a splotchy stain of black drowning out the vibrant colors of every corner. They barked orders to keep traffic flowing. They stared down shoppers slipping in and out of stores. They stood guard along pathways, the swords at their hips glinting in the summer sun.

Alie stood in the middle of the street, staring at them. They were overpowering here, a swarm of locusts in a garden. Though people tried to keep going with their everyday lives, she could tell they were on edge. No one smiled in her direction. No one apologized when they bumped into her. They kept their gazes downcast, focusing only on themselves, rushing to their destination but trying to look unhurried.

She trembled. But not from fear. From anger.

Darrel slipped a small hand into hers. To anyone looking at them, he was just a child latching on to the support of his older sister. But Alie understood the reassuring squeeze he gave her fingers.

Don't let them upset you. Don't give them reason to think you're suspicious.

She pursed her lips and released a heavy breath. She slipped her arm around Michael's, the image of a daughter keeping close to her father, and let him drag her and Darrel through the crowd.

The Imperial presence didn't thin as they wound through the city. She felt the soldiers' eyes on her constantly, and wondered if any of them were clever enough to see through their disguises. No one said anything, but sometimes the stares lingered.

They stopped for lunch at a bustling delicatessen that hosted a menu they could just barely afford with what coin they had left. Its entirely outdoor seating area on the edge of a large plaza gave plenty of shade under a host of umbrellas. They picked a table nestled into a corner, to keep out of the main view of the plaza and the soldiers within it. Even then, they kept their voices low and spoke little as they ate.

Darrel only finished half his sandwich. He scowled at the rest, his young features pouting. "I'm tired of this place already," he grumbled irritably.

Michael scratched at his beard. "Yeah. We should probably leave before dinner."

Alie set down her chilled spiced cider, her fingers clenched tight around the golden mug. "They have to be here for a reason. I'm not leaving until I know what it is."

Darrel shot her a look that aged his disguise by at least a decade. "You'll blow our cover if you poke your nose where it doesn't belong."

She squeezed the mug harder. "We're not cowards."

"It's really bad here, Alie," Michael sighed. "Really bad. At best, you could find out what's going on just in time to be arrested."

"I know." Her lunch swam uncomfortably in her stomach, making her fidget in her chair. "But we can't do nothing. What if they're poisoning the world? Think about what happened in the Marketplace. What would have happened if we weren't there to help? I can't leave these people to fend for themselves."