City of Mages

Chapter 22: Alara

"Runeo, what is in the world is going on?" The woman's voice was warm and her eyes wide and dark. She sat beside the older man, holding an air of power about her. She was obviously older than Alara, but her skin was still smooth and the magite wondered just how much older she could be. The woman's hair was dark black and tightly coiled, falling in thick spirals around her face. Beside her, on her left, was a third man, likely closer to Emaru's age, based on the graying of his hair and the soft lines of his face.

"Why is Quenti tied up?" the woman asked.

Runeo gave a small bow of his head and acknowledged her. "Quil'la." He then jerked his head toward Quenti, who Alara could see paling beside Khuno. "That's Quenti. This one is a magite from the Haven who tagged along with her."

Quil'la stood up and Alara felt her body go rigid, bracing for a blow or a fight. But the woman's eyes slipped away from her without a second glance. She walked past Runeo and Alara before stopping in front of Quenti. Gently, the woman took the girl's face in her hands, the copper rings along her fingers glinting in the firelight.

"Of course it's you." She gazed into Quenti's eyes, smiling. A thin finger swiped gently across the girl's face, brushing back a loose strand of hair. "You look just like your mama, don't you?"

Quil'la turned back to face Alara, and the magite was once again aware of how many eyes watched her.

The woman stepped toward her, head tilted and eyes narrow. It was almost as if she was trying to place her—as if she might recognize her—and Alara's heart jumped at the thought of what it would mean if a bruya did, in fact, recognize her. But the woman only gave Alara a level look.

"You are?"

"Alara." Her voice almost cracked, and she felt her cheeks redden. Clearing her throat, she tilted her chin up and repeated her name again, clearer.

"Alara...? Do you have a family name?"

"Leon," she finally said, giving Adelmo's family name. She was certain they couldn't tie her back to the Council with his name.

Quil'la didn't respond for a moment, her black eyes studying Alara's face. But finally she nodded. "And how did you end up here with Quenti, Alara Leon?"

"I—" Alara shot a look at Quenti. The anger that had finally started to thaw was returning. What right did any of them have to be angry? She didn't exactly come here willingly.

Quenti cut in, perhaps seeing the thoughts racing across Alara's face. "I sort of—I mean, I accidentally..." Quenti paused again, as all eyes in the room swiveled on her. "The councilguards were threatening me and I didn't really think, and I grabbed her. And well, once we were out in the wilderness, I couldn't very well leave her alone. She's kind of useless by herself."

Alara opened her mouth to protest this last comment, but one of the older men that had been sitting beside Quil'la stood up sharply. He was taller than Quil'la by almost a foot and towered over the others.

"And how had those councilguards found you in the first place?" he said.

Quenti glanced at Alara. "I don't know how they found me."

Alara started at this, realizing that Quenti most definitely knew how the councilguards had found her. She was protecting Alara, even to her own detriment. If she didn't know how they found her, then who's to say they couldn't have followed her again?

The bruyas spoke all at once, a ripple of anxiety permeating the room. Alara felt like she could sink into the background, forgotten. She felt herself step back, and then a hand fell on her shoulder. It wasn't rough, but she bristled all the same. Where in El'dyo's name did they think would she go all tied up like this?