Inkblots: A Tale of Magic, Adventure, and Romance

XX. The Desert

Gradually, Kit grew less grim, and became more apt to joke around with his adventuring friend—and eventually even with Alia and Darine. Alia could see why he'd been irritated by Darine's presence, because for every moment that she stumbled, or lagged, or didn't know how to do something important, Darine struggled even worse. But—though she never did say it—privately she was quite sure that these setbacks were worth the girl's cheery presence and near-magical ability to make conversation.

As the journey pressed on, one afternoon they approached a double set of hills, softly mounded and smooth except for beige grass. Kit elbowed Caddock and said, "My favorite hills!" in a jocular tone. Alia was fascinated to see this cheerier side of the man, but unsure what was so special about this particular ridge.

Caddock laughed heartily, noise booming out ahead of them. "Even though they're the last hills before the desert?"

"Oh yes," said Kit, with a twinkle in his eye and one of those make-you-stop-and-stare grins. "They're flawless."

Darine turned pink and started giggling next to Alia.

"What?" Alia whispered to her friend. "I don't understand."

The other girl didn't even say anything, but instead cupped at her ample chest for a moment with another giggle.

Alia felt her face flare hot. Oh. Maybe she'd have done a better job recognizing the suggestive nature of the hills if she'd had more than the slight suggestion of curves on her own skinny body.

When they came over the last hill of the pass, which thankfully stopped looking so blush-provokingly suggestive once you were on it, a low, lightly angled slope spread down and down and down, and beyond that was... emptiness. It was all so flat, and beige-colored, spotted with only low-lying scrub. Alia looked down upon her shadow, stretching down the hill beyond them. She didn't feel disappointed, exactly, but it was more awe-inspiring with the sheer emptiness than the exotic place of interest she'd been imagining.

"You should have seen it at night," Kit said unexpectedly. "The magic gleams would swirl across it like the flag dancers of Scypia."

"What are the flag dancers like?" Darine piped up brightly. "That sounds beautiful."

Caddock looked just as curious, but Kit pressed his lips into an amused line. He'd say nothing further. Alia found herself suspicious that this was something like the pair of hills—and she wondered just how much travel he'd actually done. But no answers were forthcoming, and instead the man just stepped onward, dropping down over the edge of the ridge and moving off into the desert.

Alia and Darine struggled on together, commiserating over the masses of blisters that were forming in their weathered shoes. Neither of them were brave enough to complain to the men, knowing that they were already on shaky ground with their slower speed and lack of experience with the outside world. When the curvy blonde wasn't complaining, she was gossiping—either about old acquaintances at the Librum, or their current companions. She was totally aflutter with admiration for Caddock, and she never made it more than a bell's length without falling back at Alia's side to whisper about the strong man.

"Alia, do you see the size of his arms? I never saw a man like that."

"Well, they call him Strongarm for a reason."

Breathlessly: "Oh, still..."

Hissed in her ear as they waited for Kit to return from an expedition to relieve himself: "Oh, he's so kind. Handsome men are never kind at heart, but he is. Did you just hear?"

"Hear what?" She hadn't heard anything but the odd whistling of the desert wind.

"He asked how I was doing! He's so thoughtful. He had the sweetest look in his eye when he said it."